Surely every book-collector is in his heart of hearts a specialist. Have you ever taken into your hands some choice gem of your collection without wishing that there were others in your library of the same genus? Is there not some one volume among your books that demands your first consideration when new shelving is put up, when your books are re-arranged; the volume to which you would fly first of all if a fire broke out in your sanctum? Brother bookman, I can almost hear you turn in your chair at the awful prospect of having to make choice between your beloved tomes! Indeed I am with you whole-heartedly, for there are two books, two priceless gems, rescued (the one from Austria, the other France) after years of patient search, two books which ever strive for the ascendancy in my bibliophilic affections. Far from me be it to make distinction between them. Granted, however, that you have made up your mind as to the identity of the treasure, do you not wish to possess other equally choice works of the same class, on the same subject? Suppose some distant relative of yours with great propriety should die, bequeathing you all unexpectedly far more worldly goods than you had ever hoped to possess; supposing also that you were 'without encumbrances' or ties of any description, and that your sole aim and ambition in this world was the collecting unto yourself of the choicest fruits of master minds: what would be your first act, in so far as your hobby is concerned?

I know what our book-hunter would do under such conditions. He would take the next train to Paris, proceed to a certain shop not a great distance from the Rue St. Honoré, mount the step-ladder and hand down to the delighted Henri just precisely what he fancied in his own particular line. This process he would continue elsewhere until he had formed a goodly nucleus round which to amass still scarcer volumes as they came to hand. And I venture to think that you would do the same, though not necessarily in Paris.

What is it that makes a man a specialist? Is it a particular knowledge of a certain subject? Do all book-collecting doctors garner only herbals and early medical works? Does the poet-collector specialise in poetry, the freemason in masonic books, the angler in works dealing only with his pastime?

Not always, perhaps; but doubtless this is the case with the great majority of collectors. Sometimes a chance purchase may shape the entire course of a man's collecting, sometimes he is led to the subject to which he devotes his collecting energies by devious byways. Our book-hunter has a friend who began to collect old French books on Chivalry through a touch of influenza. When convalescent his doctor ordered him a sea-voyage. An hour after the advice was given he met a shipping friend, who offered him a cabin in a ship just about to start on a trading voyage in the Mediterranean. At Crete the ship was detained for some repairs, so he took the opportunity to visit Rhodes in a coasting vessel. He was much struck with the famous Street of the Knights and ancient buildings of the great military Order that once owned the island, and regretted that he knew so little about it. Nor did his scanty knowledge of these things enable him to appreciate to the full the buildings of the Order at Malta.

On his return to this country he spent some time at the British Museum, delving into these knightly records of the past, but was unable even then to discover all that he wished to know. So for a time he took up his abode in Paris, working daily at the Archives, the Arsenal Library, and Bibliothèque Nationale. Then came the Library of the Vatican. To-day his collection of ancient works on La Chevalerie, in most of the languages of Europe, is a thing to be proud of, and his sub-collection on the Hospitallers and their commanderies is especially rich. Probably there are few works upon this subject with which he is unacquainted, and the bibliography upon which he is at work bids fair to become the standard volume.

What an immense part Chance plays in all our lives. Some of the most momentous events in the world's history have turned upon the most trivial happenings. Had not a wild boar run in a certain direction, probably there would have been no Norman Conquest of England! Robert of Normandy, out hunting with his friends, roused a boar which, running a certain course, necessitated the duke's return through the village street where he saw and fell in love with the burgess's daughter who became the mother of William the Conqueror. Had the boar run north instead of south, probably Robert would never have seen Arlette, and William would never have been born. Olaf of Norway, the great sea-king whose name was feared from Brittany to the Orkneys, was converted to Christianity by a chance landing at the Scilly Isles, where haply he visited the cell of a holy man that dwelt there.

Let us now draw up a list of those subjects which generally engage the attention of specialists. The list is a lengthy one and offers an infinite variety. Each heading will comprise various sub-headings, and of these I shall speak more in detail.

From this list are purposely omitted books printed upon vellum, Books of Hours of the Virgin Mary, and illuminated books; for these are rarities within reach of the wealthy only. Nor is 'bindings' included, for the man who collects these is no book-lover in the truest sense of the word, and his hobby does not fall properly within the category of book-collecting, being classed rather under the heading Art and Vertu, Bric-à-Brac, or what you will. Naturally all book-collectors (save perhaps the 'original-boards-uncut' man) are sensible to the charm of a choicely bound copy, provided always that the binding be appropriate and that it is impossible to obtain the book in its original covers; but it is for something more than the mere outsides of his treasures that the real book-lover cares.

Needless to say, there are other subjects which have their devotees. Some collectors specialise in large-paper copies, some prefer certain editions which contain matter suppressed later. Others collect early children's books, gipsy literature, Egyptology, books on inventions, ballooning, etc. But most of these are more in the nature of sub-headings to the subjects in our list, and offer a more restricted field of collecting. Indeed I am in some doubt as to whether the large-paper collector should be included here, for his penchant is as far removed from true book-collecting as is that of the specialist in bindings. His hobby can have nothing to do with literature, since it is only the external characteristics of a book which appeal to him. He may be 'wise in his generation,' but his pursuit approaches closely to bibliomania. This objection may perhaps also be urged against one other subject in our list, namely, privately-printed books. But here there is an ulterior interest beyond the mere singularity of their production; for there are very many books of great merit, chiefly memoirs and family histories, which their authors have designed, from personal and contemporary reasons, to come only into the hands of their own families and acquaintances.