ld cases, or to make new
ones, with a far larger number of shelves than heretofore; and when
further space for books was needed, low cases were interposed between each
pair of tall ones. A splendid specimen of this treatment is to be seen at
S. John's College, Cambridge, where the bookcases were put up soon after
the completion of the library in 1628. Though the plinth and central
pilaster have been taken away, and the levels of the shelves changed,
their original appearance can be recovered at a glance. On the top of all
the low cases there was a desk, in memory of that of ancient times. At the
end of the taller cases is a panel to contain the catalogue, here closed
by a small door.

_Bookcases in S. John's College Library._

Sometimes, as we see at Peterhouse, ancient usage asserted itself so far
that a seat was contrived by making the plinth of the tall case project to
a sufficient distance. These bookcases were set up between 1641 and 1648.

_Bookcase in Peterhouse Library._

When the necessity for still further space for books became imperative,
the seat was given up, or was dropped to the height of a step, as in the
bookcases in the south room of the University Library, Cambridge, put up
soon after 1649. The carved wing, however, which had masked the ends of
it, was retained as an ornament, both there and in the old library at
Pembroke College, Cambridge, furnished soon after 1690.

Meanwhile a new system of arranging bookcases had come into use on the
continent. So far as I have been able to discover, the first library
arranged in the way with which we are familiar, namely, with the bookcases
set against the walls instead of at right angles to them, is that of the
Escurial. These cases were made by Herrera, the architect of the building,
in 1584. There is no indication of chaining, but, in conformity with
ancient usage, the fore edge of the books, instead of their backs, is
turned outwards, and the desk is represented by a shelf, carried all round
the room at a convenient height. No doubt so important a structure as
this, erected by so mighty a potentate as the King of Spain, would be much
talked about, and provoke imitators. Among these, I feel sure, was
Cardinal Mazarin, whose library was fitted up in Paris in or about 1647,
as a library to be used daily by the public. After his death his books and
bookcases were moved to the building in which they may still be seen. I
will now shew you views of the