not be either
swung together or beaten together. The carpet in a library should not
reach to the wall, or right to the cases, but should fall short so as to
be removed when required to be cleaned. A librarian at Bath gives the
following advice:--

'Our books are taken down once a year, in the month of August, to be
dusted, and, for the last four or five years, I have adopted a simple
plan. When the books are well dusted I take about half an ounce of the
best horn glue, and, having dissolved it in the usual way, I add to it
about a pint of warm water and a teaspoonful of glycerine, and stir it
well. Then dipping a soft sponge into the solution, I wash over the
backs of the books. If the leather is much perished or decayed, it will
unduly absorb the size, and a second touch over may be necessary. The
glycerine will have the effect of preventing the glue from drying too
hard or stiffening the leather. When dry, the books may be rubbed over
with a chamois leather. The above process, I find, helps to nourish the
leather, and to restore that property which the heated air has
destroyed. It also freshens up and greatly improves the appearance of
the volumes upon the shelves. The operation must be repeated once a
year at least.'

Bottles of preparation are sold ready made up for this purpose. Mr.
Blades warmly echoed the sentiment that housemaids and helps are seldom
bibliophiles, and, if, peradventure, one Eve in a family can be
indoctrinated with book reverence, there may be salvation for all the
books. Mr. Blades himself had a fine library, and goes fully into the
subject of the period of dusting and its methods.[9]

'Books _must_ now and then be taken down out of their shelves, but they
should be tended lovingly and with judgment. If the dusting can be done
just outside the room, so much the better. The books removed, the shelf
should be lifted quite out of its bearings, cleansed, and wiped, and
then each volume should be taken separately and gently rubbed on back
and edges with a soft cloth. In returning the volumes to their places,
notice should be taken of the binding, and especially when the books
are in whole calf or morocco, care should be taken not to let them rub
together. The best-bound books are soonest injured, and generally
deteriorate in bad company. Certain volumes, indeed, have evil tempers,
and will scratch the faces of all their neighbours who are too familiar
with them. Such are books with metal clasps