In London particularly dust, smoke, and soot get at books and do great damage. To have the top edges gilded is an excellent way to prevent dust getting into the leaves. Books which have roughly trimmed tops harbour dust much more readily, and it is with great difficulty removed from such. If a book is very dusty, a small brush is perhaps the best means to adopt to remove the offending particles. Books should not be either swung together or beaten together. The carpet in a library should not reach to the wall, or right to the cases, but should fall short so as to be removed when required to be cleaned. A librarian at Bath gives the following advice:—
'Our books are taken down once a year, in the month of August, to be dusted, and, for the last four or five years, I have adopted a simple plan. When the books are well dusted I take about half an ounce of the best horn glue, and, having dissolved it in the usual way, I add to it about a pint of warm water and a teaspoonful of glycerine, and stir it well. Then dipping a soft sponge into the solution, I wash over the backs of the books. If the leather is much perished or decayed, it will unduly absorb the size, and a second touch over may be necessary. The glycerine will have the effect of preventing the glue from drying too hard or stiffening the leather. When dry, the books may be rubbed over with a chamois leather. The above process, I find, helps to nourish the leather, and to restore that property which the heated air has destroyed. It also freshens up and greatly improves the appearance of the volumes upon the shelves. The operation must be repeated once a year at least.'
Bottles of preparation are sold ready made up for this purpose. Mr. Blades warmly echoed the sentiment that housemaids and helps are seldom bibliophiles, and, if, peradventure, one Eve in a family can be indoctrinated with book reverence, there may be salvation for all the books. Mr. Blades himself had a fine library, and goes fully into the subject of the period of dusting and its methods.[9]
'Books must now and then be taken down out of their shelves, but they should be tended lovingly and with judgment. If the dusting can be done just outside the room, so much the better. The books removed, the shelf should be lifted quite out of its bearings, cleansed, and wiped, and then each volume should be taken separately and gently rubbed on back and edges with a soft cloth. In returning the volumes to their places, notice should be taken of the binding, and especially when the books are in whole calf or morocco, care should be taken not to let them rub together. The best-bound books are soonest injured, and generally deteriorate in bad company. Certain volumes, indeed, have evil tempers, and will scratch the faces of all their neighbours who are too familiar with them. Such are books with metal clasps and rivets on their edges; and such, again, are those abominable old rascals, chiefly born in the fifteenth century, who are proud of being dressed in real boards with brass corners, and pass their lives with fearful knobs and metal bosses. . . . . When your books are being dusted, don't impute too much common sense to your assistants—take their ignorance for granted.'
Mr. Blades then points out certain dangers which beset the inexperienced handler of books. Never lift a book by one of its corners. Do not pile books up too high. Be careful not to rub the dust into instead of off the edges. If mildew or damp is discovered, carefully wipe it away, and let the book stand open for some days in a very dry spot—but not in front of a fire. Be careful that no grit is on the duster, or it will surely mark your books. Do not wedge books in too tightly. Common-sense must dictate what is right, but every volume should fit easily in its place.
Children and servants are not to be classed as friendly to books, but little lapses on their part are much more easily tolerated than the ignorance of the person who ought to know better. Such people insist upon having their books bound in hideous bindings, and mutilated almost beyond recognition by the bookbinder's plough.
I will talk about bookbinding later, but this I will say, that in no way can a book be easier ruined than by being placed unconditionally in the hands of a bookbinder.
It is frequently supposed that the insect, known as the bookworm, is a great enemy to books. 'Tis true where the bookworm exists it does irreparable damage, but fortunately it is not an insect which may be found every day. In America, they have, I believe, greater trouble from these boring insects. They have 'fish bugs,' 'silver fish,' and 'bustle tails,' scientifically known as Lepisma Saccharina. Another is known as 'Buffalo Bug,' or 'Carpet Bug,' or the Anthrenus varius of scientists. A third is Blatta Australasia, a species of cockroach.
The following maxims may be learned by heart, or if preferred, they can be bought by experience:
Do not bite your paper knife until it has the edge of a saw.