The building at Hawarden cost, I believe, 1000l., 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 5l. 5s., and the wooden shelves about 25s. 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]
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]
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]
