, and in some parts actually fell to the ground by its own weight;
while the backs of the books upon the top shelves were perished, and
crumbled away when touched, being reduced to the consistency of Scotch
snuff. This was, of course, due to the sulphur in the gas fumes. I
remember having a book some years ago from the top shelf in the library
of the London Institution, where gas is used, and the whole of the back
fell off in my hands, although the volume in other respects seemed quite
uninjured. Thousands more were in a similar plight.

As the paper of the volumes is uninjured, it might be objected that,
after all, gas is not so much the enemy of the book itself as of its
covering; but then, re-binding always leaves a book smaller, and often
deprives it of leaves at the beginning or end, which the binder's wisdom
has thought useless. Oh! the havoc I have seen committed by binders.
You may assume your most impressive aspect--you may write down your
instructions as if you were making your last will and testament--you may
swear you will not pay if your books are ploughed--'tis all in vain--the
creed of a binder is very short, and comprised in a single article, and
that article is the one vile word "Shavings." But not now will I follow
this depressing subject; binders, as enemies of books, deserve, and
shall have, a whole chapter to themselves.

It is much easier to decry gas than to find a remedy. Sun lights require
especial arrangements, and are very expensive on account of the quantity
of gas consumed. The library illumination of the future promises to be
the electric light. If only steady and moderate in price, it would be a
great boon to public libraries, and perhaps the day is not far distant
when it will replace gas, even in private houses. That will, indeed, be
a day of jubilee to the literary labourer. The injury done by gas is so
generally acknowledged by the heads of our national libraries, that
it is strictly excluded from their domains, although the danger from
explosion and fire, even if the results of combustion were innocuous,
would be sufficient cause for its banishment.

The electric light has been in use for some months in the Reading Room
of the British Museum, and is a great boon to the readers. The light is
not quite equally diffused, and you must choose particular positions
if you want to work happily. There is a great objection, too, in the
humming fizz which accompanies the action of the electrici