ss in his treatment of books; I have read somewhere
(but I forget where) that he used his forefinger as a paper-cutter and
that he did not hesitate to mutilate old folios which he borrowed. But
he was extraordinarily tender with his manuscripts; and he was wont to
carry in his pockets a soft brush with which he used to dust off his
manuscripts most carefully before handing them to the publisher.

Sir Walter Scott was similarly careful with his books, and he used, for
purposes of dusting them, the end of a fox's tail set in a handle of
silver. Scott, was, however, particular and systematic in the
arrangement of his books, and his work-room, with its choice
bric-a-brac and its interesting collection of pictures and framed
letters, was a veritable paradise to the visiting book-lover and
curio-lover. He was as fond of early rising as Francis Jeffrey was
averse to it, and both these eminent men were strongly attached to
animal pets. Jeffrey particularly affected an aged and garrulous
parrot and an equally disreputable little dog. Scott was so stanch a
friend of dogs that wherever he went he was accompanied by one or
two--sometimes by a whole kennel--of these faithful brutes.

In Mrs. Gordon's noble "Memoirs" we have a vivid picture of Professor
Wilson's workroom. All was confusion there: "his room was a strange
mixture of what may be called order and untidiness, for there was not a
scrap of paper or a book that his hand could not light upon in a
moment, while to the casual eye, in search of discovery, it would
appear chaos." Wilson had no love for fine furniture, and he seems to
have crowded his books together without regard to any system of
classification. He had a habit of mixing his books around with
fishing-tackle, and his charming biographer tells us it was no uncommon
thing to find the "Wealth of Nations," "Boxiana," the "Faerie Queen,"
Jeremy Taylor, and Ben Jonson occupying close quarters with
fishing-rods, boxing-gloves, and tins of barley-sugar.

Charles Lamb's favorite workshop was in an attic; upon the walls of
this room he and his sister pasted old prints and gay pictures, and
this resulted in giving the place a cheery aspect. Lamb loved old
books, old friends, old times; "he evades the present, he works at the
future, and his affections revert to and settle on the past,"--so says
Hazlitt. His favorite books seem to have been Bunyan's "Holy War,"
Browne's "Urn-Burial," Burton's "Anatomy of Melancholy,