COUNTBY LITERATVBE. 225 



between the villager who wants to read and the books 

 he would like. There is no machinery between the 

 villager who wants to read and the London publisher. 

 The villager is in utter ignorance of the books in the 

 publisher's warehouse in London. 



The villager who has just begun to read is in a 

 position almost incomprehensible to a Londoner. The 

 latter has seen books, books, books from boyhood 

 always around him. He cannot walk down a street, 

 enter an omnibus, go on a platform without having 

 books thrust under his eyes. Advertisements a yard 

 high glare at him from every hoarding, railway arch, 

 and end-house facing a thoroughfare. In tunnels 

 underground, on the very roofs above, book advertise- 

 ments press upon his notice. It is impossible to avoid 

 seeing them, even if he would. Books are every- 

 where — at home, at the reading-room, on the way to 

 business ; and on his return it is books, books, books. 

 He buys a weekly paper, and book advertisements, 

 book reviews, occupy a large part of it. Buy what 

 sort of print he will — and he is always buying some 

 sort from mere habit — books are pushed on him. If 

 he is at all a student, or takes an interest — and what 

 educated Londoner does not? — in some political, 

 scientific, or other question, he is constantly on the 

 watch for publications bearing upon it. He subscribes 

 to or sees a copy of one or other of the purely literary 

 papers devoted to the examination of books, and has 

 not the slightest difiiculty in finding what he wants ; 

 the reviews tell him precisely the thing he requires 

 to know, whether the volume will suit him or not. 

 The reading Londoner is thus in constant contact with 





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