they are bound in white vellum. As to furniture, people who can
afford it will imitate the arrangements of Lucullus, in Mr. Hill
Burton's charming volume "The Book-hunter" (Blackwood, Edinburgh,
1862).--"Everything is of perfect finish,--the mahogany-railed
gallery, the tiny ladders, the broad winged lecterns, with leathern
cushions on the edges to keep the wood from grazing the rich
bindings, the books themselves, each shelf uniform with its facings,
or rather backings, like well-dressed lines at a review." The late
Sir William Stirling-Maxwell, a famous bibliophile, invented a very
nice library chair. It is most comfortable to sit on; and, as the
top of the back is broad and flat, it can be used as a ladder of two
high steps, when one wants to reach a book on a lofty shelf. A kind
of square revolving bookcase, an American invention, manufactured by
Messrs. Trubner, is useful to the working man of letters. Made in
oak, stained green, it is not unsightly. As to ornaments, every man
to his taste. You may have a "pallid bust of Pallas" above your
classical collection, or fill the niches in a shrine of old French
light literature, pastoral and comedy, with delicate shepherdesses
in Chelsea china. On such matters a modest writer, like Mr. Jingle
when Mr. Pickwick ordered dinner, "will not presume to dictate."

Next to damp, dust and dirt are the chief enemies of books. At
short intervals, books and shelves ought to be dusted by the amateur
himself. Even Dr. Johnson, who was careless of his person, and of
volumes lent to him, was careful about the cleanliness of his own
books. Boswell found him one day with big gloves on his hands
beating the dust out of his library, as was his custom. There is
nothing so hideous as a dirty thumb-mark on a white page. These
marks are commonly made, not because the reader has unwashed hands,
but because the dust which settles on the top edge of books falls