Whether the library be considered as a workshop or a morning-room, there

are certain necessary appliances, which will contribute a great deal to

comfort, and the proper preservation of books. Thus, proper tables will

be required. Mr. Gladstone, I believe, has, or had, three tables in his

Temple of Peace--one for correspondence, one for politics, and one for

literary work. This, no doubt, is a very excellent plan to be followed

by those whose time is precious, and who have to divide each day up for

fixed duties. The 'Shannon' and other American tables are very excellent

for correspondence work, being fitted with pigeon-holes and drawers, and

I have no doubt but that equally well-made tables are made specially

fitted for literary work. Such a table should measure not less than six

feet by three; its top should be a clear, flat surface, and it should

stand firmly on its legs, and these legs should be four, and should not

be placed to be in the way of the person sitting at the table. An

ink-well should be sunk flush with the top of the case, and it should

have a brass cover. A knee-hole table is not the best for literary work,

but it may be the best for letter-writing. Of chairs, one good, firm,

hard-seated chair is necessary. Mr. Ellwanger[50] says, 'I have two

chairs for my reading--a stiff one for books I _have_ to read; a

luxurious one for books I like to read. My luxurious chair is of dark

green leather, a treat to sink into, modelled after the easy armchair of

the Eversley Rectory, known from its seductive properties as "Sleepy

Hollow."' A very prettily designed and useful hard-seated chair is that

known as the Goldsmith chair, being modelled upon the chair which

belonged to Oliver Goldsmith. A revolving bookcase is a very appropriate

article of furniture in a library. It may be made especially useful for

reference-books, or any such books as are being used together at one

time for purposes of study and comparison. These revolving bookcases are

made in all sizes, and can, of course, be made to suit any particular

requirement; thus I have seen them made with a top which can be raised

to a slope with a ledge like a standing desk, upon which a large atlas

can be rested and consulted. Apart from this, I strongly recommend the

use of a standing desk for health's sake when a great deal of writing

has to be done.

It frequently happens that books being taken from the shelf, the volumes

left behind fall down in an untidy heap. To obviate this, there is a

very simple form of metal book support sold, which keeps a half-filled

shelf neat and tidy. An alternative to this is the old plan of inserting

dummies, whereby no blanks are seen. As I have so strongly advocated

shelves the tops of which are within reach of the hand, I need not say

much about steps, but where steps are really needed, they should be

_very_ light, and capable of being easily lifted with one hand. They

should have an upright rod support rising about four feet above the top

step; this for the purpose of safety when using the steps. Cabinets of

drawers for prints and very large books should also be secured if

required, and cushioned desks for books with metal bosses or metal

mountings of any description. Last, but by no means least, let there be

good ink, and plenty of it; good pens, and a variety of them; and good

blotting-paper, frequently renewed; and paper-knives of various sizes.

FOOTNOTE:

[50] _The Story of my House._

_The Library Annexe._

What in many ways is an ideal library is a library housed in a building

specially constructed as an annexe to a residence. I feel sure that,

within the next ten years, there will be many moderately wealthy men who

will be anxious to form libraries and special collections of books,

housing them in this way. The idea is only new as applied to large

country mansions. Hitherto students of moderate means have managed to

construct buildings specially adapted for study and free from

interruption. The only instance of a library annexe attached to a

country mansion with which I am acquainted is the recent and very

notable instance at Hawarden, of which more later. The late Vicar of

Middleton Cheney, in Oxfordshire, and, I think, Dr. Jessopp, of

Scarning, have both found that their work has been assisted by library

annexes. Horace Walpole said of Topham Beauclerk that he had built a

library in Great Russell Street, that reached 'half-way to Highgate.'

Lord Bacon spent ten thousand pounds in building himself a retreat in

his grounds at Gorhambury.

Mr. Gladstone's scheme at Hawarden is likely to be followed by many

others. Of course the Hawarden library has been endowed, and made

practically open and free. It is the idea of a private library as a

temple of peace for the owner and his visitors which we would like to

see extended. One fancies that books might be on a better footing in

country houses if they had the honour of a separate building. Then they

would, at any rate, be on as good a footing as the stables or as the

greenhouse, which at present they are not. Books are not so much wall

covering, or so much furniture. They are much more; they should be

treated more like living creatures, and if only their owners would get

upon speaking terms with them, how readily would they get a response.

Roughly, then, one would like to see attached to every large country

establishment a book building, a centre of intelligence and light, where

we might be sure of finding a good atlas, a good biographical

dictionary, and good verbal dictionary. I do not understand why so

little importance has hitherto been attached to this. Such a building

should have a large central room and several separate small rooms for

private study. The illustrations in a charming little book called _Mr.

Gladstone in the Evening of his Days_ convey what is meant very well.

From this little volume I give extracts which seem very clear to any

one interested in this matter:--

'Everywhere about in the large room are books--books--books. The Iron

Library (the building is of iron) is arranged in the same ingenious way

as Mr. Gladstone's private library at Hawarden Castle. There are windows

on either side of the long room, and between these windows high

bookcases, running towards the centre of the room, are put up. There are

books on either side of these cases, and the part facing the centre of

the room is again arranged to hold books. It is truly marvellous how

many books can thus be stored without a single one being out of sight.'

'There is the same simplicity, the same quiet comfort, the same air of

repose, and the same absence of library conventionality about. . . . .'

'Through a door . . . . you reach the second room in the library, to

which Mr. Gladstone has given the name of the "Humanity room." It is

arranged on exactly the same plan as the first, and contains secular

works chiefly. You note Madame de Sévigné's _Letters_ on one shelf, in

neat and dainty little volumes; and yellow-backed Zola lower down.'[51]

Any one who proposed having a library as a separate building should

certainly study Mr. Gladstone's experiments at St. Deiniol's Library, or

procure _Mr. Gladstone in the Evening of his Days_, wherein are given

illustrations of the interior plan and general economy of the

structure. Certainly Mr. Gladstone's ideas as to the arrangement of

books as put forth in the _Nineteenth Century_ for March, 1890, are much

more applicable to an annexe library than to the housing of books in an

ordinary private dwelling. Thus the arrangement of the bays made by the

projections could not be carried out without extensive structural

alterations in one house out of twenty in the country, and not one house

out of a thousand in London. His ideas, however, are wholly practicable

and admirably thorough when applied to the annexe library. It is

interesting to see Mr. Gladstone's calculations as to shelf

accommodation. They were disputed at the time by some cavilling critics,

but have since been shown to be accurate. Mr. Gladstone is speaking[52]

of the bookcases round the walls and the projecting arms, and he

says:--'I will now exhibit to my readers the practical effect of such

arrangement in bringing great numbers of books within easy reach. Let

each projection be three feet long, twelve inches deep (ample for two

faces of octavos), and nine feet high, so that the upper shelf can be

reached by the aid of a wooden stool of two steps, not more than twenty

inches high, and portable without the least effort of a single hand. I

will suppose the wall-space available to be eight feet, and the

projections, three in number, with end pieces, need only put out three

feet five, while narrow strips of bookcase will run up the wall between

the projections. Under these conditions, the bookcases thus described

will carry about 2000 volumes.

'And a library forty feet long and twenty feet broad, amply lighted,

having some portion of the centre fitted with very low bookcases, suited

to serve for some of the uses of tables, will receive on the floor from

18,000 to 20,000 volumes of all sizes without losing the appearance of a

room . . . . while leaving portions of space available near the windows

for purposes of study. If a gallery be added, there will be accommodation

for a further number of 5000, and the room need be no more than sixteen

feet high.'

This estimate of shelf accommodation may be compared with one which was

made by Mr. Justin Winsor, the well-known librarian of the Harvard

library. He says:--'The book room of the Roxbury branch of the public

library of Boston is fifty-three feet long by twenty-seven feet wide,

and having three storeys of eight feet each in height will hold 100,000

volumes. . . . . I doubt if any other construction can produce this

result.'

The building at Hawarden cost, I believe, 1000_l._, but whether this is

with fittings or not I do not know. It is certain that for men whose

books are more numerous than costly the annexe plan is admirable, and

the difficulty of excluding damp where four walls are exposed to the

elements could surely be overcome. I do not think that Mr. Gladstone

makes any mention of iron bookcases, but these are often adopted, and

have been made in a very convenient form, particularly that called the

Radcliffe iron bookcase, arranged by Sir Henry Acland and Mr. W. Froude.

Of this I append a description written by Sir Henry Acland himself.

'The advantages of the bookcase consist in its great stability, in its

movability and neatness. It carries 500 average octavo volumes, 250 on

either side; it is seven feet high, and stands on any floor space on

forty-eight inches by eighteen inches. The cases may stand in any number

end to end, or down the centre of a passage, or be placed so as to form

squares of any dimensions multiple of the length of the cases, and

therefore may enclose studies lined with books, books being also on the

outside of the square. When the cases stand end to end they need not be

put close to each other, but may have a space in which are shelves of

any desired length. Therefore ten iron cases placed in a line, so as to

include a space of forty inches between each two cases, will carry the

contents of nineteen cases, or 5000 plus 4500 volumes, at the cost of

ten cases, plus the wooden shelves of nine. The iron framework costs

about 5_l._ 5_s._, and the wooden shelves about 25_s._ The iron portion

will carry only octavos, but the spaces as described above will carry

folios, because, to insure stability in the iron frames, diagonal ties

run down the centre and divide the shelves into two portions, viz., the

two frontages described above. But the stability being ensured in each

iron case independently, the intermediate shelves in the spaces may be

of the full width of the frames, namely, twenty inches.'[53]

FOOTNOTES:

[51] These notices of the Hawarden Library may be compared with the

accounts given in Dennistoun's _Dukes of Urbino_ of a great Florentine

library:--

'Adjoining (the main library) was a study, fitted up with inlaid and

gilded panelling, beneath which . . . . were depicted Minerva with her

ægis, Apollo with his lyre, and the nine muses, with their appropriate

symbols. A similar small study was fitted up immediately over this one,

set round with armchairs encircling a table, all mosaicked with _tarsia_,

. . . while in each compartment of the panelling was the portrait of

some famous author, and an appropriate distich. . . . To the right and

left of the carriage entrance into the great courtyard are two handsome

saloons, each about forty-five feet by twenty-two, and twenty-three in

height. That on the left contained the famous library of MS. collected

by Count Federigo; the corresponding one received the printed books

which, gradually purchased by successive dukes, became, under the last

sovereign a copious collection. Baldi, in his description of the palace,

printed in Bianchini's works, dwells on the judicious adaptation of the

former, its windows set high against the northern sky, admitting a

subdued and steady light which invited to study; its air cool in summer,

temperate in winter; its walls conveniently sheltered. . . . .'

[52] _Nineteenth Century_, March, 1890.

_A Librarian._

Until we have more properly trained librarians, it is useless to

recommend owners of private libraries to find a librarian, because at

present there are very few such men in existence who are properly

qualified. A love of books is not enough in a librarian. An orderly mind

and great receptive power are most essential. Practical knowledge of

bookbinding and a sense of colour are equally essential. He must have no

fads of his own to be ever thrusting forward. If he is mad on Geology or

Astronomy, he won't do. What, above all, he must know are the sources of

information.

A study in the 'Lives' of some of the great librarians would best show

what is here meant. Mr. Elton[54] names Antonio Maggliabecchi, the

jeweller's shop-boy, who became renowned throughout the world for his

abnormal knowledge of books. He never at any time left Florence; but he

read every catalogue that was issued, and was in correspondence with all

the collectors and librarians of Europe. He was blessed with a

prodigious memory, and knew all the contents of a book by 'hunting it

with his finger,' or once turning over the pages. He was believed,

moreover, to know the habitat of all the rare books in the world; and

according to the well-known anecdote he replied to the Grand Duke, who

asked for a particular volume: 'The only copy of this work is at

Constantinople, in the Sultan's library, the seventh volume in the

second bookcase, on the right as you go in.' A similar story was told by

Wendell Phillips, the American statesman, about a countryman of his own,

George Sumner. An Englishman came to Rome and was anxious to know

whether there was in the library of the Pope, the great library of the

Vatican, a certain book. . . . . The gentleman went to the Italians that

used the library. They referred him to the private secretary of one of

the cardinals, and after a moment's thought the secretary answered, 'No,

sir, I don't know; but there is a young man in the city from Boston, and

if the book is there he will know. They went to George Sumner, and

asked him if there was such a volume in the library. 'Yes, it is in the

tenth alcove, the third shelf, the seventh book to your right as you

enter.'

Similar stories, doubtless, could be told of Bradshaw, the Cambridge

University librarian, or of Thomas Ruddiman and George Buchanan.

Mr. Lloyd P. Smith[55] gives the following definition, among others, of

the qualifications of a librarian: 'Librarians, like editors and

proofreaders, are expected to know everything; and in one sense they

should know everything--that is, they should have that _maxima pars

eruditionis_, which consists in knowing where everything is to be found.

A librarian should be able, of his own knowledge, to answer many questions,

and especially the two questions which meet him at every turn, "Where

can I find such-and-such information?" and "What is the best work on

such-and-such a subject?" These are legitimate questions, which it

should be the pride of every librarian to answer offhand . . . . All

the book-learning in the world, however, will be insufficient for the

practical duties of his place, unless the librarian has also the organ

of order. His motto should be, "A place for everything and everything

in its place."'

'The book of regulations for the court and household of Guidobaldo I.

contains these rules for the administration of the library:--"The

librarian should be learned, of good presence, temper, and manners,

correct, and ready of speech. He must get from the gardrobe an inventory

of the books, and keep them arranged and easily accessible, whether

Latin, Greek, Hebrew, or others, maintaining also the rooms in good

condition. He must preserve the books from damp and vermin, as well as

from the hands of trifling, ignorant, dirty, and tasteless persons. To

those of authority and learning, he ought himself to exhibit them with

all facility, courteously explaining their beauty and remarkable

characteristics, the handwriting and miniatures, but observant that such

abstract no leaves. When ignorant or merely curious persons wish to see

them, a glance is sufficient, if it be not some one of considerable

influence. When any lock or other requisite is needed, he must take care

that it be promptly provided. He must let no book be taken away but by

the Duke's orders, and if lent, must get a written receipt, and see to

its being returned. When a number of visitors come in, he must be

specially watchful that none be stolen. All which is duly seen to by the

present courteous and attentive librarian, Messer Agabito."'[56]

FOOTNOTES:

[53] _Library Assoc. Report_, 1878, p. 75.

[54] _Great Book Collectors_, p. 74.

[55] _American Library Journal_, vol. i., p. 69.

[56] _Memoirs of the Dukes of Urbino_, p. 159.

_The Library Architecturally._

Vitruvius, in his _Architecture_, lays down the rule that libraries

ought to face the east, because their use requires the morning light,

which will preserve their contents from decay; whereas, if the room

should face the south or west, they are liable to be damaged by damp.

Mr. J. W. Clark, the very learned historian of the University of

Cambridge, commenting on this, says that the first of these

considerations did influence early builders, but after the Reformation,

when considerations of personal comfort began to be generally accepted,

the library could be placed in the position which commanded the greatest

amount of warmth. Ancient libraries were never placed on the ground,

but usually on the first floor, or even higher, for the sake of

preserving their contents from the damp to which ground floors are

necessarily subject.[57]

The architect is very frequently a great enemy to the library.

Underestimating the amount of wall space likely to be required for the

housing of the books, or placing shelves and galleries in such a

position that the books are not readily got at. Frequently, too, a

country house has no room whatever designed either for study or the

reception of books. The entire collection of books should be accessible

without steps or ladders. Hot-water pipes should not approach nearer

than three feet to the books. Electric light is the best luminant, but

gas may safely be used provided there is sufficient ventilation.

The walls, which are towards the outer air, and even the others also, if

of brick or stone, ought to be battened.

I have taken from a very excellent book, Kerr's _Gentleman's House_,

such ideas and notes as I think are likely to be useful in arranging a

library in a country house. Mr. Kerr suggests two plans for a large

country house with a library.

'The idea which might first occur to the mind is that of a single

spacious apartment; but for convenience and in order to preserve the

domestic character, it is generally preferable to make use of several

smaller apartments as a _Suite of Libraries_. On this plan the

arrangement which is perhaps most favourable to considerations of

utility, and on the whole most characteristic, is to set out a given

width of clear passage way along the central line of the rooms, and then

to divide the space on each side into a succession of compartments or

bays, by means of transverse bookcases in pairs back to back; such bays

being only large enough to accommodate a reading table with sufficient

space around for reaching the books, opening the doors of the cases if

any, and so on. If the rooms be lighted from the roof, the lights ought

to correspond with the division into compartments, so that none of the

fronts of the bookcases shall be placed in shadow. If there be windows

in the walls, there ought to be one in each bay along one side of the

room or both as may be desired. Bookcases against the walls are

obviously most serviceable with the ceiling light; with side windows,

even when these are on a high level, there is always a difficulty in

reading the back lettering under the light; and when the windows are on

a low level, dwarf bookcases under them are practically of little use.

'As for _artistic treatment_, nothing can be more appropriate for the

character of a library than those effects which are at the command of

the architect in a suite of apartments of this kind, laid out probably

with some variety in the general forms as well as in the fittings, and

involving perhaps the introduction of sculptures and paintings of a

suitable kind. Elaborate effects, however, of whatever sort, and the

accommodation of any other works of art than those whose merits are

kindred to the character of the more proper contents, ought not to be

encouraged.'

A second or alternative plan is a large room with a gallery.

'As regards curiosities and other _artistic or scientific collections_,

these may very properly be accommodated, whether in upright cases to

correspond with the bookcases, or in cabinets to take the place of the

reading tables.

'The arrangements proper for the alternative plan of a large _single

library_ are obviously simple. A gallery is probably carried round the

apartment; the bookcases extend along the wall below and are reproduced

above; the light comes either from the roof or the upper part of the

walls; the floor area is generally occupied solely by reading tables and

cabinets. Objects of art and curiosity, when of large size, are more

prominently displayed by this arrangement, and the whole effect may be

made very imposing; but it is doubtful whether convenience and comfort

can by any means be so properly provided for as in the other model.

'There are questions of detail which might be further entered upon, but

a reference to what has already been advanced under the head of the

ordinary library will probably suffice.'

In other parts of his excellent manual, Mr. Kerr goes more into detail,

and refers to the various general purposes to which a library, as

distinct from a study, is put in a country house, as follows:--

'There is a certain standard room which constitutes the library of an

average gentleman's house, and the various gradations by which this may

be either diminished in importance or augmented are easily understood.

It is not a library in the sole sense of a depository for books. There

is, of course, the family collection, and the bookcases in which this is

accommodated form the chief furniture of the apartment. But it would be

an error, except in very special circumstances, to design the library

for mere study. It is primarily a sort of morning-room for gentlemen

rather than anything else. Their correspondence is done here, their

reading, and, in some measure, their lounging; and the billiard-room,

for instance, is not unfrequently attached to it. At the same time the

ladies are not exactly excluded.

'The _position_ of the room internally ought therefore to be in

immediate connexion with the principal dwelling rooms, so as to be

equally accessible; whilst, on the other hand, as regards external

influences, it ought to be kept sufficiently quiet (although this is

very seldom a practical problem), to prevent the interruption of reading

or writing. In accordance with these general ideas, and bearing out,

moreover, the somewhat sober effect which bookcases always produce, the

_style_ of design and decoration ought to be, although not devoid of

cheerfulness, certainly subdued in character.'

As regards aspect, Mr. Kerr is at one with the old Vitruvius already

referred to.

'It is not often easy to obtain a choice _aspect_ for the library, but

whenever this primary pleasantness can be had for it so much the better,

and it certainly ought never to be entirely neglected in this respect.

The reasons for preferring the south-east in the case of day rooms

generally have already been argued; for a library, perhaps, a rather

more eastward aspect is better, so that the sun may be off the windows

at least before noon; even due east might be preferred by some persons,

the sunshine being thus lost about half-past ten. In any case, however,

the morning sun is to be preferred to that of midday or afternoon. If

the room be large enough _end windows_ may be used to advantage here as

elsewhere. A _bay window_ also is often adopted.

'A difficult question which often arises is how sufficiently to provide

for persons engaged in writing a _front light from the left_. It is not

that a snug seat by the fireside, with a table conveniently at hand, and

a left front light, can by any possibility be provided for many persons

at once; but it is very unfortunate when no position whatever will

combine these advantages. In a library especially this problem must be

well worked out, and not for one writer only, but for several. Ingenuity

and perseverance will accomplish wonders, and therefore, with the help

of end light, a good library may be expected in this respect to be

brought very near perfection.

'The _fireplace_ ought to be placed so as to make a good winter

fireside, because this is in a measure a sitting-room.

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