The Private Library Part 7

[49] See p. 106.

_Miscellaneous Appliances._

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 bra.s.s 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. Ellw.a.n.ger[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 a.s.sisted 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. .h.i.therto been attached to this. Such a building should have a large central room and several separate small rooms for private study. The ill.u.s.trations 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 Sevigne'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 ill.u.s.trations 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-s.p.a.ce 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 s.p.a.ce 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 s.p.a.ce on forty-eight inches by eighteen inches. The cases may stand in any number end to end, or down the centre of a pa.s.sage, 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 s.p.a.ce in which are shelves of any desired length. Therefore ten iron cases placed in a line, so as to include a s.p.a.ce 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 s.p.a.ces 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 s.p.a.ces 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 aegis, 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 a.s.soc. 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 s.p.a.ce 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.