he dwells.

Last year, his income did not fall short of thirty thousand dollars.

Is the passion which actuates Caruthers avarice? All his actions have but one tendency, all his thoughts are employed on one object: the increase of his property. Not a farthing is bestowed through the impulse of benevolence; no expensive amusement is ever pursued; no toy or luxury is ever purchased; all intellectual gratifications are unknown to him. These seem to manifest the influence of avarice.

Some of the most noted ingredients of avarice are not, however, to be found in his character. The lust of gain does not prompt him to un

common

or intense exertions of mind or body. Neither does it impose upon him any remarkable or sordid expedients of abstinence or self-denial. It does not impel him to the use of artifice and cunning, nor to the rigorous exercise of all his legal rights. He disburses money when necessary, and performs his contracts without apparent reluctance, and without delay, and without cavilling. He betrays no solicitude about the safety of his property, the solvency of his debtors, and the punctuality of his tenants. It is not from his words so much as from his actions, that you perceive in what degree the pursuit of riches occupies his thoughts. He inquires and converses about nothing but sales and purchases; but this appears to flow merely from the inaptitude of his mind, in consequence of native or acquired incapacity to all other subjects of speculation.

Is he an honest man? He does what he wills with his own, but injures nobody. No one is the worse by his means. He never resorted to the law to effectuate his claims on others, and was never himself even menaced with a prosecution. He does not always exact what is due to him, and renders to others, with unexceptionable good faith, whatever is legally their due.

Let us then consider: yes, Caruthers is not munificent or liberal;

W.

For the Literary Magazine.

ON THE NUMBER OF BOOKS.

Books are like autumn leaves, their number such

That e'en to count them is for man too

much.

I WAS in company, the other evening, where the benefits and evils of much reading were discussed. The various remarks on this subject at length led to an inquiry what was the actual number of books existing in the world, and whether it were possible for any man to read the whole of them. Several modes of ascertaining this number were suggested, but none of them were free from objection. Every computer was guilty of some mistake, and either wholly omitted some classes of writers, or mistated the number of that class which was included in his calculation.

At length, one of the company, who had been previously silent, was called upon for his opinion. In answer to this call, he observed, that the multitude of books might be powerfully inferred from the mistakes which had been committed, and from the uncertainty which appeared to cleave to the question. Books are so numerous, their topics are so infinitely diversified, and human capacity is so generally limited to one or two topics of inquiry, that few men have qualified themselves even to estimate the number of pub lications.

There is one class of books in the world, continued he, most calculated to throw light upon this question, and that is the class of catalogues. Every permanent and extensive collection of books, in Europe, has a catalogue of its treasures, from which the number of works and volumes in these collections, at least, may be known. Many persons have likewise amused their leisure, in compiling lists of books, either such as relate to a particular branch of knowledge, or such as have been written within a given period, or by the authors of a particular nation. I remember to have once seen a book that called itself "Catalogus Catalogorum," a catalogue of catalogues. It was a compact volume, and could scarcely contain less than two hundred and fifty pages. Each article was accompanied with a brief explanation of how, when, and by whom it was compiled; which, however, did not occupy more than half a page: if so, the number of articles did not, probably, fall short of five hundred. The deliberate perusal of this work alone would require a day, and if the catalogues enumerated were equally copious, it follows, that the perusal of catalogues alone would demand daily and incessant application of nearly a year and a half.

If you will allow this instance to support a conclusion, we may calculate that all these lists, added together, would amount to two hundred and fifty thousand names of books. Each book consisted of one or more volumes, and every work differed from its neighbour in bulk. Some, like the homilies of Chrysostom, the philosophical history of Brucker, or the anatomical library of Haller, might occupy a half score of quartos. It is, therefore, a moderate estimate, to suppose that each work, on an average, would demand, in its cursory perusal, four days At this rate, and excluding sabbath days from our reckoning, the whole number would consume three thousand years; or, supposing thirty years of a life to be constant

ly devoted to books, and the task of reading to be performed with all possible celerity, a long-lived and indefatigable student might expect to read a hundredth part of the books that have been written.

The largest collection of printed books known in the world, is that of the kings of France. Many years ago it consisted of ninety-four thousand works. From the mode in which it is conducted, it must experience continual augmentations. The present number, not improbably, exceeds a hundred thousand; so that one collection merely contains two-fifths of what I have assigned to be the whole number. This library alone would, therefore, afford a reader constant employment for twelve hundred years: a conclusion, at first sight, incredible; and yet sustained by the most plausible evidence.

One may venture to affirm, that no man, however stupendous and diversified his reading, has read over the name of every book that has been printed, even in his native language. Each student has a path of his own, from which he deviates rarely and with reluctance. None but those whose passion is concentered merely in the names of books, like the compilers of catalogues, are likely to come near the truth; and even of the man who composed a catalogue of catalogues, it cannot be imagined either that he read every article in the catalogue which he enumerates, or that he did not omit, in his collection, the title of some catalogue which, though once in print, had since disappeared, or which, though extant in his time, was placed beyond his reach.

This supposition may be made still more narrow. It is likely that the most ardent student, and most diligent collector, has not seen the names of all the works that have been printed in his favourite science within the last fifty years, in his native tongue; much less likely is it that he has seen the names of publications during a longer period, or printed in any foreign language;

and how precipitate and ignorant must be he who pretends or ima gines that he has read the books themselves!

Twenty years ago, a catalogue of English law books was published; the number, exclusive of various editions, amounts to fifteen hundred. Few of these are comprised in a single volume of moderate bulk. Most of them are quartos, and extend to four and five volumes. One of them occupies no less than twenty-four folios*. What appetite has been so voracious as to devour the contents? What eye has been so active as to glance over the title-pages of, at least, three thousand ponderous volumes of law? No man could read this number, though his reading were rapid, and interrupted only by sleep and meals, in less than thirty years!

English theology has funds of reading at least as copious as English law. Sermon and system writers in theology are as numerous as the reporters and abridgers of law cases. It is difficult to ascertain this number; but we may form some judgment of the written, if not of the printed compositions of this kind, by comparing a few facts.

The number of parishes in South Britain has never been fixed at less than ten thousand. In each of these, one sermon, at least, is delivered weekly, and may be presumed to be always written. If each sermon can be read in fifteen minutes, to read all that are composed in one year would consume forty years; every day, and ten hours of each day, being supposed to be devoted to it.

If English theology and law be thus abundant, what must we think of those of the continental nations of Europe? The Roman jurisprudence is the lex communis of Italy, Portugal, Spain, France, Germany, and the north. The laborious and voluminous genius of the civilians have become proverbial; and their heavy compositions as far surpass those of English jurists in number, as the

* Viner's Abridgment.

population of the continent exceeds that of the island.

Historical works, since the revival of arts in Europe, must compose, a stupendous catalogue. The narratives of original actors and observers, from the reign of Charlemagne to the French revolution, now actually in print, cannot be stated with any degree of precision; but is it. extravagant to say, that, during the. last three hundred years, there have, been a hundred publications of this kind yearly, including, in this estimate, all the western nations of Europe, and including every work in which the actions of human beings are recorded? Many will think that the estimate is not exorbitant, if limited to England alone.

Men who record their own actions are not merely those who are engaged in war and politics. That importance which every man's affairs possess in his own eyes, has produced innumerable works. Voyagers, artists, philosophers, and especially religious men, have been as prone to publish their history as statesmen and generals.

The biography of religious persons is seldom of any value, and is rarely known to exist to any but their own followers, or the adherents of their own sect. An example of this may be found in the society of quakers. George Fox, the founder of this sect, lived somewhat more than a hundred and fifty years ago, Six generations have since elapsed, and the society has gradually increased; but the whole number of quakers now alive, in Europe and America, probably does not exceed fifty thousand persons. This sect is chiefly known to the rest of mankind by two works, George Fox's Journal, and Barclay's Apology. The most inquisitive, who derive their knowledge from public libraries and popular catalogues, will be surprised to hear that the biographical publications, merely of this sect, amount to more than five hundred. The number of controversial pieces, great and small, is immense. The same thing occurs in the history

of all the christian sects which have arisen since the origin of printing.

If, however, we chuse a statement unquestionably moderate, and suppose that the annual publications of the biographical and historical kind have been equal to a hundred yearly, during three centuries, throughout all Europe, the whole number will be thirty thousand. He that would undertake to read all these, supposing all to be accessible, must first discover the secret of protracting his existence a hundred degrees beyond the usua! term.

Should we extend the same computations to the tribe of tales, novels, and romances, to poetry, and the various departments of physical and moral science, we should find ample confirmations of my original assertion, that to read all the books that have been printed would require not less a period than three thousand years.

For the Literary Magazine.

0.

THE ARTS OF LONDON GAMBLERS.

BEING continually on the watch for their prey, whenever gamblers hear of a youth, a young heir especially, or any man who has money, and has been seen at a gaming-table, they immediately begin to study how to ensnare their prey: they consult each other; one agrees to play with him, and suffer him to win, taking care that the sum shall not be large; others stimulate him by praise, and by betting on his head; and others again will pretend to dispute, whether he can or cannot play so well as some one of their own companions. I am now speaking of games of skill.

If they find that the person whom they wish to pillage has any know. ledge of them, accompanied by a fear of their tricks and a sense of his danger, they call in some fresh associate, one of their fraternity, and generally one who they think can

best assume the character that may most easily deceive. Thus the gambler will appear perhaps as a captain, a country squire, a sea-officer flush of money, or any other which they suppose to be most eligible.

To this their associate they will pretend to be utter strangers; and, if he, whom they hope to strip, be inclined to be himself a rascal, if he should but learn the means, they will offer to join with him, under a pretence that they may mutually strip the false captain, or whatever their associate affects to be. Their only object is to induce their wellfeathered pigeon to play, and to stake his money: they then consider themselves as secure, and so they generally are.

A well-feathered pigeon is a cant phrase, common to gamblers, and signifies a person with money at command, and having a desire to game without any knowledge of the gamester's arts. To pigeon a man is to win, or rather to cheat him of his money. To pluck him is another of their elegant figures. rook, a greek, and a blackleg, are the most ordinary appellations to signify a gambler. A flat and a sharp are synonymous to a pigeon and a rook.

A

One of these common and highly dangerous arts is to play a match (at billiards or tennis, especially) with each other, and to agree among themselves that he shall win by whom the most can be gained. This is a secret known only to themselves; for a by-stander, who should even know them well, seldom knows all of them; and perhaps some fellow, genteelly dressed and pretending to bet foolishly, is but placed there as a decoy. Any stranger that bets wagers in a common gaming place contributes to pick his own pocket.

Deceit is so habitual to these fellows, and they find such pleasure in practising it successfully, that they do not in the least scruple to plunder each other. A gambler is himself never certain that the gambler, who pretends to be his most intimate

friend, is not concerting schemes for his ruin of this I have frequently been a witness.

One evening a tradesman of supposed property, who was thought to have a strong passion for gaming, with the desire to practise all its rascalities, and therefore one who was certain to fall the prey of gamblers, came into a room where they assembled, and was soon after followed by a couple of gamblers. One of them took from his pocket a tobacco or snuff-box, and asked the tradesman if he could open it? The latter looked at it, pretended to make several ineffectual trials, and handed it round that others might also try if they could be more successful.

The master of the house was of Course a gambler, and it was put into his hands. He thought himself more than a match for the tradesman, and after trying a little while, and thinking he perceived what the secret was, or expecting perhaps that the gambler who brought the box would discover it to him, he of fered to bet the tradesman twenty guineas, on these conditions: they should each have the box in their possession fifteen minutes, and, if one succeeded in the opening of it and the other failed, the former should be declared the winner.

The tradesman at first seemed to hesitate, examined the box again and again, said no, he found he could not do it; and then, suddenly appearing to take courage, offered to make the bet of twenty guineas a hundred.

The proposal was instantly accepted the tradesman, it was agreed, should make the first trial; and he retired into a private room, accompanied by the landlord of the house, and the gambler who brought the box.

When ten of the fifteen minutes were elapsed, the tradesman pretended to be completely certain he could not perform the operation, and first made an offer of five guineas, then of ten, to be released from the bet. The gambler, whose

box it was, gave the landlord an encouraging sign, and he consequently refused. Just, however, within the quarter of an hour, the tradesman exclaimed, I have it; and immediately presented the box open.

The landlord's turn to make the attempt now came: the box was pretended to be given to him, and he himself began to doubt that he should lose. He prophesied truly; the quarter of an hour had elapsed, without any discovery made by him of the secret, and he was adjudged to have lost his hundred guineas, which he paid with a very reluctant and a very foolish air.

The money was scarcely out of his possession, before he began to suspect he had been tricked. His suspicions were right: and the two gamblers, his supposed friends, had contrived this trick with the tradesman who was allowed to share. They had procured two boxes of similar appearance, the one of which might be opened by certain secret arrangements; but the other, though it had the same apparent mechanism, could not.

Of this trick I was a witness. The landlord dared not take any legal redress; his own cheating arts were too notorious, and he was laughed at for having been so easily pigeoned. The brain of a gambler, if he be a cunning fellow, is continually exerting itself to contrive new modes of deceiving, or to profit by the old in some new way.

It is well known to sober calculators, that the profits of persons who keep EO tables, and the bank at faro, and rouge et noir, are great. Still, however, these bankers are obliged to be most carefully on their guard against one another, and especially against the people whom they employ.

At a fashionable faro bank, then nightly kept in Pall Mall, a foreigner one night appeared, and had so great a run of fortune that he carried off twelve or fifteen hundred pounds.

About a week afterwards he returned, staked higher than he had