The question whether I am right in laying so much stress on the timely provision of space in libraries depends, as I have intimated, upon the more serious question, whether the library movement is to prove a success. If it is not, we need not trouble ourselves. If the present free libraries—at least those in populous towns and centres of intellect and industry—are not to be the nuclei of much more important institutions than they are at present; if they are not to become the pride of their respective districts, and to be supported by them upon a much more liberal scale than is now the case; if they are not to expect liberal accessions from the generosity of private donors; if they are not to be affiliated with whatever agencies exist around them for the promotion of culture; if, shedding from time to time what they may deem their obsolete books, they are to renounce all claim to an historical character, and only provide for those needs for which the circulating library exists already; then, indeed, the question of space need not concern us. But if the reverse of all this is to be the case; if they are to become noble libraries, store-houses of local and municipal as well as merely utilitarian literature; if all descriptions of English literature are to be at least fairly represented; if private collectors are to be made to see that the local library would afford a worthy repository for their books; then the question of space cannot be too attentively considered, or, in the height of success, the library may break down. You know the value of land in large towns, and
