rival buyers feel the passion of emulation, and it was in an
auction-room that Guibert de Pixerecourt, being outbid, said, in
tones of mortal hatred, "I will have the book when your collection
is sold after your death." And he kept his word. The fever of
gambling is not absent from the auction-room, and people "bid
jealous" as they sometimes "ride jealous" in the hunting-field.
Yet, the neophyte, if he strolls by chance into a sale-room, will be
surprised at the spectacle. The chamber has the look of a rather
seedy "hell." The crowd round the auctioneer's box contains many
persons so dingy and Semitic, that at Monte Carlo they would be
refused admittance; while, in Germany, they would be persecuted by
Herr von Treitschke with Christian ardour. Bidding is languid, and
valuable books are knocked down for trifling sums. Let the neophyte
try his luck, however, and prices will rise wonderfully. The fact
is that the sale is a "knock out." The bidders are professionals,
in a league to let the volumes go cheap, and to distribute them
afterwards among themselves. Thus an amateur can have a good deal
of sport by bidding for a book till it reaches its proper value, and
by then leaving in the lurch the professionals who combine to "run
him up." The amusement has its obvious perils, but the presence of
gentlemen in an auction-room is a relief to the auctioneer and to
the owner of the books. A bidder must be able to command his
temper, both that he may be able to keep his head cool when tempted
to bid recklessly, and that he may disregard the not very carefully
concealed sneers of the professionals.

In book-hunting the nature of the quarry varies with the taste of
the collector. One man is for bibles, another for ballads. Some
pursue plays, others look for play bills. "He was not," says Mr.
Hill Burton, speaking of Kirkpatrick Sharpe, "he was not a black-