of the tiny Elzevirian books waxed pathetic over dates, already they
knew that a 'Caesar' of 1635 was the right 'Caesar,' already they
were fond of the red-lettered passages, as in the first edition of
the 'Virgil' of 1636. As early as 1699, too, the Parisian critic
knew that the editions were not very correct, and that the paper,
type, ornaments, and FORMAT were their main attractions. To these
we must now add the rarity of really good Elzevirs.

Though Elzevirs have been more fashionable than at present, they are
still regarded by novelists as the great prize of the book
collector. You read in novels about "priceless little Elzevirs,"
about books "as rare as an old Elzevir." I have met, in the works
of a lady novelist (but not elsewhere), with an Elzevir
'Theocritus.' The late Mr. Hepworth Dixon introduced into one of
his romances a romantic Elzevir Greek Testament, "worth its weight
in gold." Casual remarks of this kind encourage a popular delusion
that all Elzevirs are pearls of considerable price. When a man is
first smitten with the pleasant fever of book-collecting, it is for
Elzevirs that he searches. At first he thinks himself in amazing
luck. In Booksellers' Row and in Castle Street he "picks up," for a
shilling or two, Elzevirs, real or supposed. To the beginner, any
book with a sphere on the title-page is an Elzevir. For the
beginner's instruction, two copies of spheres are printed here. The
second is a sphere, an ill-cut, ill-drawn sphere, which is not
Elzevirian at all. The mark was used in the seventeenth century by
many other booksellers and printers. The first, on the other hand,
is a true Elzevirian sphere, from a play of Moliere's, printed in
1675. Observe the comparatively neat drawing of the first sphere,
and be not led away after spurious imitations.