Old books...

I have an obsession with old books, you know.

That musty smell, and grubby exterior. The knowledge, that this book, in my hand, is many, many years old. Older than anyone on this Earth right now.
The wonder of the things that this book has seen, the things it has survived, the people who have touched it, and their own stories.
I adore them, and because of this, eBay is a dangerous place for me!

I often think, when I receive a new, old book, about where it has come from. Who was the first person to buy this book? Did they buy it for themselves, or was it to be a gift for someone special? What was happening in the world, the day they bought this book?

For example, I find myself imagining a very well dressed gentleman, elegantly smoking his pipe, in his study, reading aloud to the young lady he is courting, from the book, Poetic Sketches, by Alaric. A. Watts. This particular volume, published in 1828.

I think of thee, I think of thee,
And all that thou hast bourne for me;-
In hours of gloom, or heartless glee,
I think of thee, I think of thee.

he reads, as she listens to his words quietly, each verse read touching her very heart.

Imagine that though, this book, in my hands right now, is over one-hundred and eighty years old! The things it has existed through, and my word, how times have changed in it's long lifetime.

This book in my hand, this VERY book, appears to have been inscribed by Alaric Alexander Watts himself.
Written by hand, on the fourth page is;

[Unclear] Lawson
From her friend
The author

And, at the bottom of the title page, underneath the publishing date (MDCCCXXVIII), he adds;

First Published 10 years ago!

(nb: This is the Fourth edition of the book.)

And do you know what?
This piece of history, this little book, that has been around for over one-hundred and eighty years, cost me less than a fiver!

This is why I love old books. Not only for the story contained within their pages, but the story created around their pages too.