As time went on, the number of the books would naturally increase, and by
the beginning of the fifteenth century the larger monasteries at least
had accumulated many hundred volumes. For instance, at Christ Church,
Canterbury, at the beginning of the 14th century, there were 698. These
had to be bestowed in various parts of the House without order or
selection,--in presses set up wherever a vacant corner could be found--to
the great inconvenience, we may be sure, of the more studious monks, or of
scholars who came to consult them. To remedy such a state of things a
definite room was constructed for books--in addition to the presses in the
cloister, which were still retained for the books in daily use. A few
instances of this will suffice. At Christ Church, Canterbury, a library
was built between 1414 and 1443 by Archbishop Chichele, over the Prior's
Chapel; at Durham between 1416 and 1446 by Prior Wessyngton, over the old
sacristy; at Citeaux in 1480, over the writing-room (_scriptorium_); at
Clairvaux between 1495 and 1503, in the same position; at S. Victor in
Paris--an Augustinian House--between 1501 and 1508; and at S. Germain des
Pres in the same city about 1513, over the south cloister.

Most of us, I take it, have more or less imperfect ideas of the appearance
of a great monastery in the days of its completeness; and information on
this point is unfortunately much more defective for our own country than
it is for France. In illustration, therefore, of what I have been saying
about the position of monastic libraries, I will next shew you two
bird's-eye views of the Benedictine House of S. Germain des Pres, Paris.
The first, dated 1687, shews the library over the south walk of the
cloister, where it was placed in 1513. It must not, however, be supposed
that no library existed before this. On the contrary, the House seems to
have had one from the first foundation, and so early as the thirteenth
century it could be consulted by strangers, and books borrowed from it.
The second view, dated 1723, shews a still further extension of the
library. It has now invaded the west side of the cloister, which has
received an upper storey, and even the external appearance of the
venerable refectory, which was respected when nearly all the rest of the
buildings were rebuilt in a classical style, has been sacrificed to a
similar gallery. The united lengths of these three rooms must have been
little short of 324 feet. This library