him.
And once, when a number of quack advertisements had found their way into the paper, old Houghton, with a sly nod and a merry twinkle in his eye, almost apparent as one reads, drily puts his “index” above them, with the following caution:—
☞ Pray, mind the preface to this half sheet. Like lawyers, I take all causes. I may fairly; who likes not may stop here.
A tolerably broad hint of his disbelief in the said nostrums and elixirs. Even booksellers had to undergo the test of his ordeal, and having discovered some of their shortcomings, he warned them—
* I desire all booksellers to send me no new titles to old books, for they will be rejected.
When a book of the right reverend father in God John Wilkins, late Bishop of Chester, was published, Houghton recommended it in patronising terms—
——I have read this book, and