There is a large class of people in the world--the business of whose lives
is to hunt after and collect trifling curiosities; who go about like the
Parisian _chiffonniers_, grubbing and poking in the highways and byeways
of society, for those dearly-prized objects which the generality of
mankind would turn up their noses at as worthless rubbish. But though the
tribe of curiosity-hunters be extremely numerous, Nature, by a wise
provision, has bestowed on them various appetites, so that, in the pursuit
of their prey, they are led by different instincts, and what one seizes
with avidity, another rejects as altogether unworthy of notice.

The varieties of the species are interminable; some of them are well
known, and need no description--such as the book-worm, the bird-stuffer,
the coin-taster, the picture-scrubber, &c.; but there are others whose
tastes are singularly eccentric: of these I may mention the snuff-box
collector, the cane-fancier, the ring-taker, the play-bill gatherer, to
say nothing of one illustrious personage, whose passion for collecting a
library of Bibles is generally known. But there is another individual of
the species that I have not yet mentioned, whose morbid pleasure in
collecting relics and memorials of the most revolting deeds of blood and
crime is too well authenticated to be discredited. I believe that this
variety, which I term "The Criminal Curiosity Hunter," is unknown to every
country in the world, except England.

How such a horrible taste should have been engendered here, is a question
not easily solved. Physiologists are inclined to attribute it to our heavy
atmosphere, which induces gloomy thoughts and fancies; while moralists
assign as its cause, the sanguinary spirit of our laws, our brutal
exhibitions of hanging, drawing and quartering, of gibbettings, whippings,
brandings, and torturings, which degrade men's natures, and give them a