between
each pair of cases was a bust of a Roman emperor or an ancient
philosopher; at the crossing of the two galleries was a dome which seemed
to be supported on a palm-tree in plaster-work at each corner, out of the
foliage of which peered the heads of cherubs; while the convenience of
readers was consulted by the liberality with which the library was thrown
open on three days in every week, and furnished with tables, chairs, a
ladder to reach the upper shelves, and a pair of globes[517]. This library
was begun in 1675, and placed, like that at Rheims, directly under the
roof. The second gallery, which is shorter than the first, was added in
1726. It was not disturbed at the Revolution, nor under the Empire, though
the rest of the abbey-buildings became the Lycee Napoleon. After the
Restoration, when this school became the College Henri IV., the presence
of the library was found to be inconvenient, and in 1850 it was removed to
a new building close to the Pantheon. The galleries are now used as a
dormitory for the school-boys, but the dome, with some of its decorations,
still survives.

Another example of this arrangement, which seems to have been peculiarly
French, is afforded by the library of Saint Germain-des-Pres, the gradual
extension of which I have already described[518]. The books were contained
in oak presses set against the walls. Above them was a series of portraits
representing the most important personages in the Order of S. Benedict.
This library was open to the public daily from 9 to 11 a.m. and from 3 to
5 p.m.[519]

I will conclude this chapter with a few words on the library of the most
famous of all European monasteries, namely Monte Cassino, the foundation
of which was undoubtedly laid by S. Benedict himself. I confess that I had
hoped to find there a library which might either by its position or its
fittings recall the early days of monasticism; but unfortunately the piety
of the Benedictine Order has induced them to rebuild their parent house in
a classical style, and to obliterate nearly every trace of the primitive
building. The library, to which I was obligingly conducted by the Prior,
is 60 ft. long by 30 ft. broad, with two large windows at the end opposite
to the door. The side-walls are lined with bookcases divided by columns
into four compartments on each side, after the fashion of Cardinal
Mazarin's library. These columns support a heavy cornice with handsome
ornaments. A band of woo