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members is nearly divided between the | tice, and sympathy, which are due to a government and the opposition, and it is people whose work on this continent has obvious that the contest between the two just begun, and whose achievements may commercial policies has but commenced. yet be as remarkable as those of the great Looking at the question from the point of federation to their south. The same mysview of an impartial observer, we can see terious Providence, that has already dithat Canada is entering upon a very critical vided the continent of America as far as period in her history. She has reached the Rio Grande between Canada and the that stage when all the antagonistic ele- United States, and has in the past prements arising from those differences of vented their political fortunes becoming nationality, geographical situation, and one, still forces the Canadian communities commercial interests, that exist in a Do- with an irresistible power to press onward minion stretching for three thousand five until they realize those high conceptions hundred miles between two oceans, must which their statesmen and people already complicate its questions of government imagine for them in a not distant future; and require a careful, sagacious, and steady but whilst the stream of Canadian develhand at the helm. Canadians are now opment refuses to turn aside from its natpractically the masters of their own des- ural channel and swell the current that is tiny. From this time forward they have ever carrying forward the federal republic to face political, financial, and commercial to so high a position among the nations, problems, which it will require no ordinary Canadians wish Godspeed to their neighstatesmanship to solve wisely, and which bors in their unparalleled career, and trust, must test to the very utmost their patriot- as the months pass by, that the clouds ism, their fidelity to an old and cherished which hang over the two countries may connection, and their ability to preserve disappear, and a brighter prospect of contheir political autonomy on the continent, tinuous friendship may open before them and build up a great and prosperous na- both. tion, always in close alliance, we trust, with England.

In the mean time, while the Canadian people are endeavoring to establish themselves firmly in America, it is earnestly to be hoped that any negotiations, which their government may be able to enter upon with the authorities at Washington with the view of bringing about a settlement of all questions at issue between the two countries, will be eventually successful, now that a new and more liberal Congress has been elected by the people of the United States, and that the McKinley Bili has been unequivocally condemned by the public opinion of the republic. One thing is certain, and that is, the Canadian people, since 1866, have been taught the great lesson of self-reliance, and the necessity of developing all those qualities which are essential to the unity and security of their Dominion.* Conscious of the success that must be the reward of courage and energy, Canada is prepared to meet the difficulties of the future with confidence, and asks nothing from her great competitor except that consideration, jus

The present governor-general of Canada, Lord Stanley of Preston, speaking from the high standpoint of an English statesman, anxious for the welfare of Canada, has of late seized every opportunity that has offered itself of pressing upon the Canadians the necessity of cultivating this spirit of self-reliance, and of facing all the difficulties of the present and the future "in a manly and hopeful spirit." "Sympathetic speeches of this character keep alive an English feeling, and maintain the unity of the empire.

From Macmillan's Magazine. SAMELA.

A TRAGEDY IN THE LIFE OF A BOOK-HUNTER.

I.

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SOME ten or twelve years ago date is of no importance or the exact place - -an Englishman wandered down to the north of Scotland and invested some of his superfluous capital in a salmon river. Such an adventurer is often but poorly repaid for his enterprise. He generally finds that the water, which was low on his arrival, becomes lower during his first week, while for the remainder of his stay it is merely sufficient to keep the bed of the stream moist, and give the grouse something to drink. Or there is too much water; the river is running too big, and the fish make their way to quieter stretches above. And it now and then happens, when everything else seems right, that the fish are not up, or, if up, are able to find more profitable occupation for their spare time than taking artificial flies. In such wise the honest angler often makes his complaint. But this fisherman was more fortunate. During his month it rained a little almost every night, while four out of the five Sundays were regular specimens of Scotch downpours. It was very soothing, when lying awake at night,

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to listen to the drip of water on the roof,
or the gurgle of a choked-up pipe in the
yard a lullaby to a fisherman on the dry
north-east coast. On Sundays, too, clad
in rain-proof garments, it was pleasant to
splash across the hill to the little church,
and listen to the minister holding forth to
his small congregation of keepers and
shepherds, translating as he went, passages
from the psalms and lessons for the bene-
fit of his southern hearer.

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This paper has nothing to do with salmon fishing, or it would be a pleasant| task for us to give a minute and detailed account of the good sport which this Englishman Mr. John Gibbs-enjoyed; to describe with accurate pen the skill with which he chose the temptations he offered to the fish, and the courage and coolness he displayed in the struggles which ensued. There is, however, something monotonous in continuous success, and it is just possible that the reader, after devouring with avidity the description of the first twenty or thirty battles, might then become a little wearied, a little sated, and wish for a blank day.

though so far as the great science of bib. liomania went he was uneducated; a man who knew ever so much less about such matters than Mr. Quaritch might know a very great deal more than he did. But there must have been something of the blood of the old collectors in his veins. He could at any time spend a pleasant morning in poking about a second-hand bookseller's shop, and regarded with indifference the dust which settled on him in the course of his examinations. He loved the touch and feel of books, their backs and sides and edges, even the smell which hangs about the more ancient, seldom-opened specimens. A catalogue had a charm for him which he would not have found it very easy to give a reason for, certainly not one which would have satisfied any of his friends, who were for the most part of the pure sportsman breed, and who would have as soon occupied their time in reading a grocer's or an ironmonger's list as a secondhand bookseller's. Gibbs did not parade his little weakness before these friends; he found them unsympathetic, with souls above the Gibbs eat salmon till he hated the sight arrangement of type and the width of marof it, and he sent fish away to his friends to gins. A large paper copy, or one with an extent which almost made the landlord the headlines and the edges mercilessly think that the next dividend of the High-cropped, was to them a book and nothing land Railway would be affected; four, five, more; they cared nothing for the work of six, even eight fish in a day. "What the old printers, and you might call over slaughter!" some would say, who perhaps the names of all the famous binders withget their supplies by nets. But his honest out arousing any enthusiasm in their soul was never vexed by such a thought. minds. He knew over how many blank days that white month should rightly be spread to get a fair average, and he abated not a whit of his skill, or let off one single fish if he could help it.

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The recipient of one of these salmon
a friend in the south was the innocent
cause of the adventure which shortly after
befell Gibbs. After thanking him for the
fish the letter went on to say: "I see by
the Courier that there is to be a sale at
Strathamat, so I suppose that old Mac-
Intyre is dead. The old boy was very
kind to me years ago when I had your
water, and used often to give me a day on
his pools, which were very good. He had
some wonderful books, and as you are fond
of such things you should go over and
have a look at them. He said they were
worth a lot of money. There was one of
Shakespeare's- Hamlet,' or 'The Merry
Wives,' or one of those, which he used to
sit and look at as if it was alive. I thought
it was an inferior old article myself, but
then perhaps I wasn't a very good judge."
Our fisherman was very fond of books,

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“‘Hamlet,' or 'The Merry Wives of Windsor,' or one of those ! what possibilities were opened up by these random words! Gibbs knew that the sale was to take place the next day, for his gillie (who was on the eve of being married) wished to attend it, to pick up something for his house, and another man had been engaged to take his place. Now the Englishman resolved not to fish at all but to go also him. self.

The sale was advertised to begin at twelve, but it was well before that time when the intending purchasers were deposited at the scene of action, but a short time ago the home of the head of one of the most ancient clans in Scotland. Strathamat, as he was universally called, had been an embarrassed man. He had never been able to take in the world the position which was certainly his by birth. His wife had long been dead, he had no children, and for years he had led almost the life of a hermit, seeing few people except his bailiff and house servants. Then he died, and a great concourse of people

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came together from far and wide to attend | edition of "German Popular Stories,". him to his grave. He had been poor and what a dealer would call a spotless copy, little known and of little power in the in the original boards, as fresh and crisp world; but he was the chief of a great as if it had just been sent out from the clan, and hundreds of men of his name publisher's office. There was his "Hans came together to do him empty honor. in Iceland," with its strange, wild etchThe house had the usual desolate ap-ings, his "Life in Paris," a large paper pearance which houses have at such edition in the salmon-colored wrappers times. People were going in and out, just as it was issued. Interested and expoking and measuring furniture, and laugh- cited as Gibbs would have been at these ing and joking as if a sale was the best fun discoveries at any other time he had no in the world. The lawn in front of the thought now but for the quarto. It was house was littered with odds and ends; not among the illustrated books, and he it seemed as if the rubbish of half the searched again below among the larger county had been collected there that day. volumes in the bottom shelf. There stood Gibbs went into the principal sitting-room, Penn's " Quakers,' as it had stood for a dingy, faded place; some of the bed- perhaps a hundred years, defying dust and room furniture had been brought in to sell damp and draughts in its massive bindthere, and half filled it up; the carpet ing. There were old French and Spanish was rolled up in a corner, and near the dictionaries, a good edition of Tacitus door the chocolate-colored paper was in several volumes, the genuine works banging on the walls, where careless peo- of Josephus, and Gerarde's "Herbal." ple had banged it when bringing things What was this dingy, calf-covered thing in. There had probably not been a fire lying on the top of the rest, more in folio in the room for weeks, and the air was than in quarto size? Gibbs drew it out, heavy and mildewy. But Gibbs had no and when he had opened it he gave a kind thought for furniture or color, or even of gasp, and looked round to the door to smells that day. Up against one side of see if he was alone. The quarto was the room was a long, low bookcase, and as merely loosely stitched into the calf bindhe walked across to it his heart began to ing which had evidently been made for a jump a little at the possibilities which lay larger book; it had been kept with the therein. greatest care, and seemed without a flaw or blemish; it was quite untouched by the knife, and some leaves at the end were still unopened, -left so probably to show the perfect virginity of its state. It was not the history of the Merry Wives which lay imbedded in its pages, nor yet that of the Danish Prince, butPleasant and Conceited Comedie called Loues Labors Lost. As it was presented before her Highness this last Christmas. Newly corrected and augmented by W. Shakespere."

The collection was quite a small one. Perhaps there were five or six hundred books in the room, the majority of which were unspeakably uninteresting. There were many old works on agriculture, a great number of theological treatises, Hume and Smollett's histories, a broken set of Rees' encyclopædia, and a common edition of the earlier poets; the bulk of the shelves were filled up with material such as this. But here and there in the last shelf examined were some books of quite a different kind, shining out from among their worthless companions as gold dust does in sand. It was plain that while the majority had stood their ground there for many years- perhaps ever since they were bought by their first owner -that the few had been well cared for, and had not till quite recently been in the bookcase at all. Some one, looking through the old man's effects, had found them in a drawer or cupboard, and had stuck them at random into the nearest shelf where there was room. There were several books illustrated by Rowlandson, the "Three Tours of Dr. Syntax," the "Cries of London," a fine copy of Goldsmith's "Vicar of Wakefield.' Some of Cruikshank's rarest works were there; the first

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It was manifest to Gibbs that those who had the management of the sale knew nothing of the value of this book or of the few other treasures in the room; they were all to be placed on the same footing as Josephus, or Dickinson's " Agricul ture," and sold for what they would fetch. He had been hoping and trusting that this would be the case ever since he heard of the quarto, but now, when his wishes were fulfilled, and he found himself, so far as could be seen, the master of the situation, certain qualms began to pass over his mind. The casuistical question of what was the right thing to do troubled him a little. If he had come across the quarto on a stall and the bookseller in charge, presumably a man who knew at least the

The auctioneer was a stout, moon-faced man, with no doubt a fair knowledge of cattle and sheep and the cheaper kinds of furniture. His resonant voice could be heard all over the house: "For this fine mahogany table-the best in the sale with cover and extra leaves complete — will dine twelve people-thirty shillings, thirty-five shillings, thirty-seven and six! Who says the twa nots?" And when he had coaxed the "twa nots" out of the reluctant pocket of the Free Church minister, he quite unblushingly produced another table superior to the first, which was bought by the doctor for five shillings less, and which was the means of causing a slight coolness between the two worthy

men for a week or two. There are few more dreary ways of spending a day than in attending a sale of furniture when you don't want to buy any.

elements of his trade had asked a ridic- | under control as his, he resolved to take ulously small price for it-well, Gibbs up his quarters in the room, or at any rate would not have thought it necessary to en- never be very far from it, so as to be in a lighten another man as to his business; he position to counteract possible felonies. would have pocketed the volume and gone home with it rejoicing. But if on a casual call on a poor and infirm widow he had espied it lying on a shelf, and had gathered that, if he gave the owner half a sovereign, he would not only rejoice her heart but be held up to the neighbors as a man who had done a kind and generous deed for the sake of the poor, the question would have presented itself in a much more difficult light. Gibbs hoped in this case that he would have the courage to tell the old lady that her book was a great deal more valuable than she imagined, and that he would give her at any rate a fair proportion of what it was worth. But here was quite a different affair. The old laird had left no family; his property went to a distant relation whom he had cared little about; he of course must have known the value of his treasures, but he had left no will, no paper saying how they were to be disposed of. Could it be possible (thought Gibbs with a shudder which ran all through him) that it was his bounden duty to go to the manager of the sale and say: "Here is a priceless edition of Shakespeare, of whose value you are evidently ignorant; it is worth £200, £300, for aught I know, £500; it is absolutely unique. Take it to Sotheby's and let my reward be the consciousness that I have put a large sum of money | into the pocket of a perfect stranger." If this were so, then Gibbs felt that on this occasion he would not do his duty; he felt so sure that the attempt would be a failure | that it seemed to him better not to make it, and he could, moreover, always make the graceful speech and hand the book over after the sale. So he put the quarto carefully back and went off in search of the auctioneer. As he left the room a thrill of virtuous self-satisfaction suddenly came over him, which went far towards allaying the qualms he had felt before. He might have put the Grimms into one pocket, and "Hans of Iceland" into the other, and buttoned the quarto under his coat, and it was ninety-nine to one hundred that no one would be the wiser or feel the poorer. And he knew that many men would have done this without thinking twice about it, and in some queer way or other have soothed their consciences for the wicked act. It was with a swelling heart that Gibbs thought of his trustworthiness and honesty. But lest there should be others about with hands not so much

At last the books were reached. The bedsteads, the chairs, the kitchen things, the bits of carpet on the stairs and landing were all disposed of, and the auctioneer seated himself on a table in front of the shelves, while his assistant handed him a great parcel just as they had stood in line. Gibbs had satisfied himself that everything that was of any value to him was in the furthest corner of one of the lowest shelves; but now at the last moment a fear crept over him that his examination had been too casual and hurried, that lurking in some cover, or bound up perhaps in some worthless volume, there might be something too good to risk the loss of.

Some books, too, had been taken out by the country people, and might not have been put back in the same places. So he decided that for his future peace of mind it was necessary to buy the whole assortment.

It is related in the account of the evermemorable sale of the Valdarfer Boccaccio that, "the honor of firing the first shot was due to a gentleman of Shropshire . . . who seemed to recoil from the reverberation of the report himself had made." No such feeling seemed to possess the mind of the individual who first lifted up his voice in that room. He was a short, stout, red-faced man, the "merchant" of the "toun," as the half-dozen houses in the neighborhood were called, and being also the postmaster and the registrar for the district, he had something of a literary reputation to keep up. In a measured and

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determined voice he started the bidding. All those who were near enough to Mr. "I'll gie ye-ninepence," and then he MacFadyen, the postmaster, to nudge him glared all round the room as if to say, and whisper encouragement to him, did so. "Let him overtop that who dares !" "A With a frowning, meditative face the old shilling," said Gibbs. "And three-warrior, trying to keep one eye on Gibbs pence, retorted the merchant, turning and the other on the auctioneer and squintwith rather an injured face to have a good ing frightfully in consequence, stood, relook at his opponent. "Half a crown," volving no doubt many things in his went on Gibbs-how he longed to shout blameless mind. "And threepence!" out, "Twenty pounds for the lot!" But he gasped out at last, and there went a he feared to do anything which would "sough" through the assembly, and some make the audience, and still more the auc- almost held their breath for a time, so tioneer, suspicious. This hundred per awed were they at his persistence, and at cent. of an advance secured him the first the magnitude of his offer. Gibbs, staring lot, and the young clerk pushed over to at the dusty heap, thought he would risk him a collection which a hurried examina- the loss of it, a more hopeless-looking tion showed to be three odd volumes of collection he had never seen. And it was the Annual Register, three volumes of perhaps advisable to let this old man have Chambers's Miscellany, and the third vol- something, or he might grow desperate ume of "The Fairchild Family." when desperation would be dangerous. The second lot were by this time laid on So he smiled a bland refusal to the aucthe table; there seemed to be something tioneer, and that worthy, after trying in more of the Register in it, and a dull green vain for about five minutes to get another octavo gave some promise of a continua- threepence of an advance, had to let the tion of Mrs. Sherwood's excellent romance. heap go. The postmaster was at once The postmaster again began the fray with surrounded by an eager circle of friends, the same offer as before. "I'll not bid for and each book was carefully examined and that trash," said Gibbs to himself, and it criticised. They were for the most part seemed as if the government official was old sermons, but an odd volume of Molière to have his way this time. But just as the having got by chance in among them was auctioneer's pencil, which he used as a at once pounced upon, and Gibbs could hammer, was falling, Gibbs was seized hardly keep from laughing outright at the with a sudden fright at the bare possibility reverence with which it was treated. "It's of something valuable being concealed Latin!" whispered one. "Ay, or Greek!" somewhere in the unpromising heap; suggested another. "If it's no Gaelic!" Half a crown!" he called out in a great interposed a snuffy-faced old shepherd, hurry, and the spoil was again his own. who had arrived very early in the day with His surmise as to the Register was cor- three dogs, and had examined and critirect, but the green covers enclosed the cised everything in the house without the History of Little Henry and his Bearer "faintest intention of spending a farthing. - a work also by the amiable Mrs. Sherwood. When the next lot of books were put up the postmaster wheeled round and faced Gibbs, deserting the auctioneer, and as our friend saw that various neighbors were poking his opponent and whispering encouragement to him, he anticipated that the fight was to become warmer as it grew older.

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"Ninepence," said the local champion, fixing a stern eye on Gibbs. "Five shil. lings!" replied the latter, thinking to choke him off. "Six!" cried the merchant, the word escaping him almost before he knew what he was about. "Ten!" called out Gibbs. Then there was a pause. It was evidently the wish of the audience that their representative should carry off the prize this time, and show the haughty stranger that he could not have it all his own way, that they, too, even in Ross-shire, knew something of the value of books.

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"Here is an elegant work," said the auctioneer, after he had allowed a long interval to give time for the inspection of the Gaelic treasure; an elegant work by William Shakespeare"- Gibbs looked sharply up -"adorned with cuts- most suitable, with other beautiful and interesting volumes. Shall I say ten shillings again? But no, he need not-at any rate no one would corroborate him, and the whole collection became the property of John Gibbs for the sum of one shilling. And so it went on sometimes there was competition, sometimes not; the postmaster was inclined to rest on his laurels, and nearly every lot was knocked down to the Englishman. They worked along the shelves and at last reached the Cruikshanks. But by these happy country folk the drawings of the great artist were set on a level with those in the Penny Encyclopædia; the Grimms attracted no attention; a little

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