great, the expense comparatively so small, and the direct gain in the
expulsion of damp so decided, that where it can be accomplished without
much trouble it is well worth the doing.

At the same time no system of heating should be allowed to supersede the
open grate, which supplies a ventilation to the room as useful to the
health of the books as to the health of the occupier. A coal fire is
objectionable on many grounds. It is dangerous, dirty and dusty. On the
other hand an asbestos fire, where the lumps are judiciously laid,
gives all the warmth and ventilation of a common fire without any of its
annoyances; and to any one who loves to be independent of servants, and
to know that, however deeply he may sleep over his "copy," his fire will
not fail to keep awake, an asbestos stove is invaluable.

It is a mistake also to imagine that keeping the best bound volumes in
a glass doored book-case is a preservative. The damp air will certainly
penetrate, and as the absence of ventilation will assist the formation
of mould, the books will be worse off than if they had been placed in
open shelves. If security be desirable, by all means abolish the glass
and place ornamental brass wire-work in its stead. Like the writers of
old Cookery Books who stamped special receipts with the testimony of
personal experience, I can say "probatum est."

CHAPTER III. GAS AND HEAT.

WHAT a valuable servant is Gas, and how dreadfully we should cry out
were it to be banished from our homes; and yet no one who loves his
books should allow a single jet in his library, unless, indeed he can
afford a "sun light," which is the form in which it is used in some
public libraries, where the whole of the fumes are carried at once into
the open air.

Unfortunately, I can speak from experience of the dire effect of gas
in a confined space. Some years ago when placing the shelves round the
small room, which, by a euphemism, is called my library, I took the
precaution of making two self-acting ventilators which communicated
directly with the outer air just under the ceiling. For economy of space
as well as of temper (for lamps of all kinds are sore trials), I had a
gasalier of three lights over the table. The effect was to cause great
heat in the upper regions, and in the course of a year or two the
leather valance which hung from the window, as well as the fringe which
dropped half-an-inch from each shelf to keep out the dust, was just like
tinder