The ultimate fate of the imperial library at Constantinople yet remains a problem. Some are of opinion that it was destroyed by Amurath IV., and that none but comparatively unimportant Arabic and other Oriental manuscripts make up the Sultan's library. Some believe that, in spite of repeated assertions to the contrary on the part of Turkish officials and others, there somewhere lies a secret hoard, neglected and uncared for, perhaps, but nevertheless existent, of ancient and valuable Greek manuscripts. The Seraglio has usually been considered to be the repository of this hoard, and access to the Seraglio is very difficult and almost impossible to obtain. In the year 1800 Professor Carlyle, during his travels in the East, took enormous pains and used every means in his power to reach the bottom of the mystery surrounding the Seraglio treasures. He was assured by every Turkish officer whom he consulted on the subject that no Greek manuscripts existed there; and when by dint of influence in high quarters and much patience and perseverance he at length gained permission to examine the Seraglio library, he found that it consisted chiefly of Arabic manuscripts, and contained not a single Greek, Latin, or Hebrew writing. The library, or such part of it as the Professor was shown, was approached through a mosque, and consisted of a small cruciform chamber, measuring only twelve yards at its greatest width. One arm of the cross served as an ante-chamber, and the other three contained the book-cases. The books were laid on their sides, one on the other, the ends outward. Their titles were written on the edges of the leaves.

The result of the Professor's researches went to confirm the belief held by so many that no Greek manuscripts had survived. On the other hand, the jealousy and suspicion of the Turks would render it at least possible that despite the apparent straightforwardness with which Mr Carlyle was treated, there were stores of manuscripts which were kept back from him.

A final touch of mystery was given to this fascinating subject by a tradition concerning a certain building in Constantinople which had been closed up ever since the time of the Turkish conquest in the fifteenth century. Of the existence of this building Professor Carlyle was certain. The tradition asserted that it contained many of the former possessions of the Greek emperors, and among these possessions Professor Carlyle expected that the remains of the imperial library would be found, if such remains existed.

Of other libraries of olden times, such as those of Antioch and Ephesus, or those in private possession in the country houses of Italy and Gaul, and which perished at the hands of the barbarians, it is not necessary to speak more fully. It is sufficient to point out that they existed, and that though we possess few details as to their furniture or arrangement, we are justified in concluding that the latter, at any rate, were luxuriously appointed. It must not be inferred, however, that all the books which disappeared from these various centres were of necessity destroyed. Many, and particularly some of the Byzantine manuscripts, were dispersed over Europe, and survive to enrich our libraries and museums of to-day.

[CHAPTER IV
BOOKS IN MEDIÆVAL TIMES]

The books of the Middle Ages are a special subject in themselves, since they include all the illuminated manuscripts of Ireland, England and the Continent. We can therefore do little more than indicate their historical place in the story of books.

We have only to look at a mediæval illuminated manuscript to understand how books were regarded in those days, and with what lavish expenditure of time and skill the quaint characters were traced and the ornaments designed and executed. And having looked, we gather that books, being rare, were appreciated; and being sacred, were reverenced; and that it was deemed a worthy thing to make a good book and to make it beautiful. Sometimes the monkish artist's handiwork had a result not foreseen by him, for we read that when St Boniface, the Saxon missionary who gave his life to the conversion of Germany, wrote to ask the Abbess Eadburga for a missal, he desired that the colours might be gay and bright, “even as a glittering lamp and an illumination for the hearts of the Gentiles.” It is easy to imagine how the brilliant pages would attract the colour-loving barbarians, and prepare the way for friendly advances.

It is probable that the custom of ornamenting books with drawings was derived from the Egyptians by the Greeks, and from the Greeks by the Romans, among whom decorated books were common, although they are known to us chiefly by means of copies preserved in Byzantine and Italian manuscripts of a more recent period. These, and a few examples dating from the time of Constantine, exhibit a style evidently derived from classical models.

A survey of mediæval books properly begins with the early Irish manuscripts, which stand at the head of a long and glorious line stretching, chronologically, from the seventh century of our era to the fifteenth. Although it is not known where the art was born to which these wonderful productions of Celtic pen-craft owe their origin, it is Ireland, nevertheless, which has provided us with the earliest and finest examples of this work, the marvels of skill and beauty which, summed up, as it were, in the Book of Kells, the Book of Durrow, and others, set the Irish manuscripts beyond imitation or rivalry.