the back of the case, will also help to keep out humidity. Most
writers recommend that the bookcases should be made of wood close in
the grain, such as well-seasoned oak; or, for smaller tabernacles of
literature, of mahogany, satin-wood lined with cedar, ebony, and so
forth. These close-grained woods are less easily penetrated by
insects, and it is fancied that book-worms dislike the aromatic
scents of cedar, sandal wood, and Russia leather. There was once a
bibliophile who said that a man could only love one book at a time,
and the darling of the moment he used to carry about in a charming
leather case. Others, men of few books, preserve them in long boxes
with glass fronts, which may be removed from place to place as
readily as the household gods of Laban. But the amateur who not
only worships but reads books, needs larger receptacles; and in the
open oak cases for modern authors, and for books with common modern
papers and bindings, in the closed armoire for books of rarity and
price, he will find, we think, the most useful mode of arranging his
treasures. His shelves will decline in height from the lowest,
where huge folios stand at case, to the top ranges, while Elzevirs
repose on a level with the eye. It is well that each upper shelf
should have a leather fringe to keep the dust away.

As to the shape of the bookcases, and the furniture, and ornaments
of the library, every amateur will please himself. Perhaps the
satin-wood or mahogany tabernacles of rare books are best made after
the model of what furniture-dealers indifferently call the "Queen
Anne" or the "Chippendale" style. There is a pleasant quaintness in
the carved architectural ornaments of the top, and the inlaid
flowers of marquetry go well with the pretty florid editions of the
last century, the books that were illustrated by Stothard and
Gravelot. Ebony suits theological tomes very well, especially when