desires. He is content with but a few books of distinction and
elegance, masterpieces of printing and binding, or relics of famous
old collectors, of statesmen, philosophers, beautiful dead ladies;
or, again, he buys illustrated books, or first editions of the
modern classics. No one, not the Duc d'Aumale, or M. James
Rothschild himself, with his 100 books worth 40,000 pounds, can
possess very many copies of books which are inevitably rare. Thus
the adviser who would offer suggestions to the amateur, need
scarcely write, like Naude and the old authorities, about the size
and due position of the library. He need hardly warn the builder to
make the salle face the east, "because the eastern winds, being warm
and dry of their nature, greatly temper the air, fortify the senses,
make subtle the humours, purify the spirits, preserve a healthy
disposition of the whole body, and, to say all in one word, are most
wholesome and salubrious." The east wind, like the fashion of book-
collecting, has altered in character a good deal since the days when
Naude was librarian to Cardinal Mazarin. One might as well repeat
the learned Isidorus his counsels about the panels of green marble
(that refreshes the eye), and Boethius his censures on library walls
of ivory and glass, as fall back on the ancient ideas of librarians
dead and gone.

The amateur, then, is the person we have in our eye, and especially
the bibliophile who has but lately been bitten with this pleasant
mania of collecting. We would teach him how to arrange and keep his
books orderly and in good case, and would tell him what to buy and
what to avoid. By the LIBRARY we do not understand a study where no
one goes, and where the master of the house keeps his boots, an
assortment of walking-sticks, the "Waverley Novels," "Pearson on the
Creed," "Hume's Essays," and a collection of sermons. In, alas! too