As many of my readers may have little, if any, knowledge of this class of street-sold works, I cite a portion of the “epistle dedicatory,” and a specimen of the style, of “Philander and Sylvia,” to show the change in street, as well as in general literature, as no such works are now published:
“To the Lord Spencer, My Lord, when a new book comes into the world, the first thing we consider is the dedication; and according to the quality and humour of the patron, we are apt to make a judgment of the following subject. If to a statesman we believe it grave and politic; if to a gownman, law or divinity; if to the young and gay, love and gallantry. By this rule, I believe the gentle reader, who finds your lordship’s name prefixed before this, will make as many various opinions of it, as they do characters of your lordship, whose youthful sallies have been the business of so much discourse; and which, according to the relator’s sense or good nature, is either aggravated or excused; though the woman’s quarrel to your lordship has some more reasonable foundation, than that of your own sex; for your lordship being formed with all the beauties and graces of mankind, all the charms of wit, youth, and sweetness of disposition (derived to you from an illustrious race of heroes) adapting you to the noblest love and softness, they cannot but complain on that mistaken conduct of yours, that so lavishly deals out those agreeable attractions, squandering away that youth and time on many, which might be more advantageously dedicated to some one of the fair; and by a liberty (which they call not being discreet enough) rob them of all the hopes of conquest over that heart which they believe can fix no where; they cannot caress you into tameness; or if you sometimes appear so, they are still upon their guard with you; for like a young lion you are ever apt to leap into your natural wildness; the greatness of your soul disdaining to be confined to lazy repose; though the delicacy of your person and constitution so absolutely require it; your lordship not being made for diversions so rough and fatiguing, as those your active mind would impose upon it.”
The last sentence is very long, so that a shorter extract may serve as a specimen of the staple of this book-making:
“To Philander,—False and perjured as you are, I languish for a sight of you, and conjure you to give it me as soon as this comes to your hands. Imagine not that I have prepared those instruments of revenge that are so justly due to your perfidy; but rather, that I have yet too tender sentiments for you, in spite of the outrage you have done my heart; and that for all the ruin you have made, I still adore you; and though I know you are now another’s slave, yet I beg you would vouchsafe to behold the spoils you have made, and allow me this recompense for all, to say—Here was the beauty I once esteemed, though now she is no more Philander’s Sylvia.”
Having thus described what may be considered the divisional parts of this stall trade, I proceed to the more general character of the class of books sold.
Of the Character of Books of the Street-sale.
There has been a change, and in some respects a considerable change, in the character or class of books sold at the street-stalls, within the last 40 or 50 years, as I have ascertained from the most experienced men in the trade. Now sermons, or rather the works of the old divines, are rarely seen at these stalls, or if seen, are rarely purchased. Black-letter editions are very unfrequent at street book-stalls, and it is twenty times more difficult, I am assured, for street-sellers to pick up anything really rare and curious, than it was in the early part of the century.
One reason assigned for this change by an intelligent street-seller was, that black-letter or any ancient works, were almost all purchased by the second-hand booksellers, who have shops and issue catalogues, as they had a prompt sale for them whenever they could pick them up at book-auctions or elsewhere. “Ay, indeed,” said another book-stall keeper, “anything scarce or curious, when it’s an old book, is kept out of the streets; if it’s not particular decent, sir,” (with a grin), “why it’s reckoned all the more curious,—that’s the word, sir, I know,—‘curious.’ I can tell how many beans make five as well as you or anybody. Why, now, there’s a second-hand bookseller not a hundred miles from Holborn—and a pleasant, nice man he is, and does a respectable business—and he puts to the end of his catalogue—they all have catalogues that’s in a good way—two pages that he calls ‘Facetiæ.’ They’re titles and prices of queer old books in all languages—indecent books, indeed. He sends his catalogues to a many clergymen and learned people; and to any that he thinks wouldn’t much admire seeing his ‘Facetiæ,’ he pulls the last leaf out, and sends his catalogue, looking finished without it. Those last two pages aren’t at all the worst part of his trade among buyers that’s worth money.”
In one respect a characteristic of this trade is unaltered; I allude to the prevalence of “odd volumes” at the cheaper stalls,—not the odd volumes of a novel, but more frequently of one of the essayists—the “Spectator” especially. One stall-keeper told me, that if he purchased an old edition of the “Spectator,” in eight vols., he could more readily sell it in single volumes, at 4d. each, than sell the eight vols. altogether for 2s., or even 1s. 4d., though this was but 2d. a volume.
“There’s nothing in my trade,” said one street-bookseller with whom I conversed on the subject, “that sells better, or indeed so well, as English classics. I can’t offer to draw fine distinctions, and I’m just speaking of my own plain way of trade; but I call English classics such works as the ‘Spectator,’ ‘Tatler,’ ‘Guardian,’ ‘Adventurer,’ ‘Rambler,’ ‘Rasselas,’ ‘The Vicar of Wakefield,’ ‘Peregrine Pickle,’ ‘Tom Jones,’ ‘Goldsmith’s Histories of Greece, Rome, and England’ (they all sell quick), ‘Enfield’s Speaker,’ ‘mixed plays,’ the ‘Sentimental Journey,’ no, sir, ‘Tristram Shandy,’ rather hangs on hand, the ‘Pilgrim’s Progress’ (but it must be sold very low), ‘Robinson Crusoe,’ ‘Philip Quarles,’ ‘Telemachus,’ ‘Gil Blas,’ and ‘Junius’s Letters.’ I don’t remember more at this moment, such as are of good sale. I haven’t included poetry, because I’m speaking of English classics, and of course they must be oldish works to be classics.”