Uzanne has drawn an amusing picture of the book-hunter as a
chrysalis in his library, destined to find his wings in a flight after
mosaic bindings, autographs, original water-colours, or plates in early
states.
It is possible, however, to prevent the 'book-buying disease' from
developing into a general collector's mania. With the world full of
books, we must adopt some special variety for our admiration. One person
will choose his library companions for their stateliness and splendid
raiment, another for their flavour of antiquity, or the fine company that
they kept in old times. Montaigne loved his friends on the shelf, because
they always received him kindly and 'blunted the point of his grief.' He
turned the volumes over in his round tower within any method or design;
'at one while,' he says, 'I meditate, at another time I make notes, or
dictate, as I walk up and down, such whimsies as meet you here.' He cared
little about the look of their outsides, but thought a great deal about
their readiness to divert him; 'it is the best _viaticum_ I have yet
found out for this human pilgrimage, and I pity any man of understanding
who is not provided with it.' We have omitted the best reason of all. One
who has lived among his books will love them because they are his own.
Marie Bashkirtseff expressed the matter well enough in a page of her
journal:--'I have a real passion for my books, I arrange them, I count
them, I gaze upon them: my heart rejoices in nothing but this heap of old
books, and I like to stand off a little and look at them as if they were
a picture.
Pages:
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156