CONFERENCE OF LIBRARIANS.

WAUKESHA, WISCONSIN.

JULY 4-10, 1901.

BEING A LIBRARIAN: ADDRESS OF THE PRESIDENT.

By Henry J. Carr, Librarian Scranton (Pa.) Public Library.

In your presence, and in addressing you to-night as presiding officer, I feel to a far greater extent than I can express in words the high honor that has been conferred in each instance upon all who from time to time have been chosen to serve as a president of this particular association.

There is in this present age, to be sure, no lack of those popular and peculiar entities termed associations—associations of many kinds, and for almost every conceivable purpose. Throughout the entire continent there exist few, perhaps none, whose history, objects, and work, have warranted a more justifiable pride in being a member thereof, than is found in being a member of the American Library Association.

It may here be said that conditions and circumstances have been favorable to the success of the A. L. A.; not the least of which has been the faithful loyalty of its individual members. We realize, too, that even time has dealt leniently with it, upon noting that of the 64 members who attended its first meeting, held at Philadelphia twenty-five years ago, but 18 have died, and that 20 persons are yet included in its membership list out of the 69 who joined the association in 1876, that initial year. Some of that original number, much to our gratification, are present with us at this 23d general meeting.

Considering its purely voluntary nature, the migratory holding of its successive meetings in different parts of the land, and the notable avoidance of fads, or any tendency towards selfish ends that might otherwise mark its united efforts, it becomes almost a matter of surprise that so many persons have unfalteringly kept up their allegiance from year to year ever since the time of their joining the association. But, as a matter of fact, the A. L. A. has at no time fallen off in its total membership; and at this date it numbers nearly one thousand contributing members paying dues for the current year.

The American Library Association has now attained a period of twenty-five years in its history—a quarter of a century. During that time, in the addresses given at its general meetings, as well as in the multiplicity of noteworthy and valuable papers contributed to its Proceedings, and the sundry publications devoted to library interests, it would appear as if there must have been presented almost every conceivable phase of library thought and sentiment. Can anything new be said, or old ideas placed in a new light, so as to be worthy of hearing and attention at this time? I fear not, except as some lessons may be drawn from the experience of one's past work, perhaps, that shall serve to aid yet others who are to tread like paths in life.

I beg, therefore, that you will bear with me for a short space of time while I give expression to some thoughts drawn from the experience of myself and others while Being a Librarian.

Without now restricting their application to particular phases of librarianship, let us at the outset consider them as relating to any and all conditions of it as a vocation. "Why did you take up library work?" is a question not infrequently asked. To that query various answer may be given, according to the individual views of the persons replying. Perhaps one general reason, that in a certain way has had its unconscious influence upon many of us, is best stated in the following characteristic passage from the "Book-hunter:"

"To every man of our Saxon race endowed with full health and strength, there is committed the custody of a restless demon, for which he is doomed to find ceaseless excitement, either in honest work, or some less profitable or more mischievous occupation. Countless have been the projects of man to open up for this fiend fields of exertion great enough for the absorption of its tireless energies, and none of them is more hopeful than the great world of books, if the demon is docile enough to be coaxed into it."

Since Burton's day the "great world of books" has taken on many phases of which he never dreamed. And we, as librarians, may reasonably believe that if not entirely a part and parcel of it, we are nevertheless called upon to deal with that "world" in almost every form, and are ourselves more or less important factors in it. We may not be called upon to adopt the "strenuous life," or seek to impart it to the conduct and activities of others. But necessarily we are and must be accustomed to "doing things"; and, by that very doing, will in some degree, each in our own field, inspire and influence others also.

Furthermore, do we not find our "restless demon of work" more agreeably inclined and contentedly occupied in the library field than in other lines of life which we may have previously entered into? I, for one, certainly think so, even though we may not have had that idea in mind at the outset, or when making the change. And, too, that we derive a certain feeling of encouragement akin to inspiration, that in itself renders us contented and happy, when responding to the varied demands on our time and energy that are entailed by our positions as librarians. That is half the battle, the rest being but a question of persistence in the application of means and ability.

Therefore, in the consoling words of one of Elbert Hubbard's salient sayings: "Blessed is that man who has found his work."

It is not the purpose of these present remarks to set forth particularly the compensations in a librarian's work; neither the advantages or disadvantages, the opportunities or drawbacks therein. Those factors have all been frequently and well discussed in prior years, by some of our well-known associates and various contributors to library literature. I desire, rather, to suggest some features and relationships connected with our work as a profession, from which an occasional lesson may be taken, and possibly a word of encouragement, if such be needed.

First of all, is librarianship a profession? Does it possess the characteristics that make it such; and is that work more nearly professional than otherwise, which lies at its hands to be done? Some such queries were propounded to me by the president of a state library association one day last fall, as we were journeying together to an annual meeting. He, himself, had been a teacher and an educational administrator for a number of years before becoming a librarian; and of the recognized professional standing of his former occupation there could be no doubt.

My first, and off-hand, answer was to the effect that librarianship certainly has many professional features, even though its being a true and undoubted profession in every respect might be disputed now and then. Going further into this question of professional status, however, it will be found that the literature of views and discussions thereon, pro and con, is by no means small. For one of us to now express a doubt that librarianship, as a whole, is a profession, would be almost presumptuous; and I, for one, do not propose to do so. My thesis, so far as it relates to the present remarks, is in affirmation of the claim; not only that it is a profession—our profession—but really the profession of professions!

All other professions now depend to a considerable extent upon that of the librarian for the custodianship of their literature, without whose care much of it might be lost. We may not be able to transmit to future eras such enduring records of antiquity as has been done by the librarian of old in his collection of clay tablets (which now serve to tell us of the affairs of mankind as transacted thousands of years ago), but it is certain that we are doing our part towards making modern literature available in disseminating it, and in preserving it as far as lies in our power.

Cotemporaneous with the organization of this association Melvil Dewey made the following decided and well-supported assertion: "The time has at last come when a librarian, may, without assumption, speak of his occupation as a profession." I cite Mr. Dewey's words, not as necessarily conclusive, but because he has ever been an active and constant supporter of that doctrine in both his work as a librarian, as a noted stimulator of the library movement, and as an originator of professional instruction of other librarians. Similar enthusiastic and persistent efforts on the part of librarians generally may do much towards the furtherance of such features, and the consequent development of librarianship as a profession in all its aspects.

Let us now consider for a few moments some features of resemblance and diversity between the library profession and others quite as well or better known. It has been said that the library exists chiefly for the use of its patrons, and that the librarian is necessarily and essentially a servant. Therefore the librarian must, of equal necessity, earn a livelihood or receive compensation of some kind for his services. All of which, in the main, is true of the professions generally, as will be seen from a brief statement of circumstances.

Doctors, lawyers, accountants, engineers, artists, etc., are engaged by and receive pay from their respective clients. The clergy are supported by contributions of their church members or from denominational resources. Teachers in the public schools are paid from public taxes, while those of private schools, or endowed institutions, receive their compensation from various sources.

The clergy and teachers, as a rule, like most librarians, no matter how willing or how well qualified, are under the further necessity of obtaining a "call," or position, as a prerequisite to the exercise of their professional faculties. In that respect they are at a disadvantage in comparison with those practitioners in the other professions, already named, who can go to any locality, solicit clients and seek business opportunities, with reasonable assurance of obtaining both according to place and the circumstances of supply and demand.

In some of the professions, both the so-called "learned" and the practical ones, there have been developed certain well recognized differentiations and specializations of professional work. Those lines have usually been taken up in response to what has seemed a reasonable demand for them; and in their exercise have not unfrequently brought both reputation and corresponding remuneration to the specialists.

Possibly the time has arrived for doing much more of that nature in the library profession than has yet been customary. And there are those among us, possessing a due amount of working experience coupled with knowledge of other and allied affairs, who might now do well to devote themselves to some special features of library enterprise as a matter of desirable business opportunity. Some from the library schools, and a few others, have gone out as "organizers," and found more or less of a field for the exercise of their limited special qualifications. The field ought to be a growing one, it would seem, if recourse to incompetent aid is carefully avoided.

But the offices of "consulting librarianship," while possessing many desirable and much needed features, do not appear to be practised as a specific function. Something of the kind has been urged in past years, to be sure, and several well-known librarians did undertake at different times to supply such services. Sooner or later, however, each one was persuaded into a more certain, or better compensated, and permanent, position of local librarianship, and thereupon abandoned that special line of work.

In this era of the establishment of so many new libraries, small and great, and of the gift of hundreds of buildings for such purposes, there is a decided need for the effective services which a consulting librarian might render; and this to a greater extent than is yet fully understood or appreciated. Lacking such, some librarians and more library trustees work too often at a disadvantage. Many more, too, are burdened with repeated calls for information which more properly ought to be obtained from an independent expert; one so situated as to take an unbiased view of circumstances and equally able to give advice best suited to the particular case in hand. Serious mistakes are sometimes made in the preliminary details of new library enterprises that might be just as easily avoided by the employment of a competent and paid professional adviser.

Turning now to another side of our subject, and considering the relation of the individual librarians rather than of the profession as a class, a few words upon personal actions may not be out of place. A librarian's position is usually of a public or semi-public nature; ability for its duties is implied; and the compensation received is for present services as a rule, rather than as a reward of merit. In order that the library shall perform all that is expected of it, not only in being to some extent an ever-running machine but equally in respect to its recognized higher functions, there must be the application of watchful care, constant attention, foresight, and unremitting work. The direction of all of which, and perhaps much of its actual execution, must depend upon the person placed in charge of the institution as its librarian.

It is true that, having a well-trained body of assistants, a library may be able to run on for a time in the prolonged absence of, or when lacking, a chief; because impetus and the effects of past direction are not lost at once, provided that no demoralization has taken place. But it is not a safe policy to allow a library, or other working institution that depends largely upon the work of trained employees for its effectiveness, to go long at a time without the presence and oversight of an actual and capable head.

Yet it does not follow that the working hours of chief librarians should be absorbed in attending to innumerable and trivial items of detail which might be delegated to and done quite as well, or better, by their assistants. Not only is "genius a capacity for evading hard work," as has been said, but one of the proper duties of the executive of a library is to obtain the best results possible from the respective capacities of those through whom the library does its work. All of which should imply the exercise of a kindly and broad-minded disposition towards one's assistants, just as truly as of respect and obedience to one's superiors, or of courtesy and suavity in dealing with customers and the public. It may be only human for one to desire to be that "king of his world," of whom Carlyle speaks; but any policy which reduces the assistants to mere machines is not a true professional one, since it tends to rob the library world of talent which is needed and, except for such repression, might be developed and brought forward.

On the other hand I might plead no less for corresponding loyalty and fidelity on the part of all library workers, both to their respective chiefs and the institutions that employ them. As a matter of fact, however, action of that kind is the prevailing practice in this country, with hardly an exception, and that phase needs no extended discussion. A chief is, of course, entitled to credit for acts done by subordinates at his direction and for which he is responsible. But chiefs, in turn, can well afford to give recognition to the ability and deeds of their assistants, and will seldom, if ever, lose by doing so.

There are one or two other features of librarianship which merit passing mention. Among them are what may be termed library succession, or the librarian's duty to his successor. Some few librarians "die in the harness"; while quite as many more change from one place to another at times. Occasionally they are succeeded by those who come new into the work; and, gaining experience, become a credit to the profession. Advancement of those trained in smaller libraries to places in larger ones, or from the position of assistant in a library to the head thereof, has also brought forward quite as many more of those whose progress we watch with cordial interest.

Although conscious of those facts, and of the inevitable changes and successions that must occur from year to year, do we recognize our duty to our successor? I have asked the question, but its consideration must be left to some future time and opportunity.

Impartiality in enforcing rules, and in dispensing the privileges of the library to all comers, should be deemed an important feature of librarianship, quite as essential to the welfare of the institution as to the professional success of the librarian. And this suggests a query, which has before now been raised, as to how far librarians should go in aiding persons who expect to use information obtained at the library, solely for the furtherance of personal interests or for purposes of pecuniary profit. Impartial and confidential treatment of all readers and seekers, who come to the library after information, would appear to be the only safe practice and criterion, regardless of their particular motives. Care should be taken, of course, to assist them in gaining the desired information by means of their own study, and in their own way, rather than through the efforts of library employees applied to searching out the exact and final facts for them.

In conclusion, I would direct your attention very briefly to yet another side of librarianship which ought to have an occasional bearing so far as ethical principles may apply.

Since we regard librarianship as a profession it would seem that there must needs be some recognized principles of an ethical nature relating to it. Like many of our working methods, however, they must probably exist chiefly as "unwritten laws." It is always a difficult matter to put our ideals into words. They may be quite real to the sensibilities and yet hardly admit of being formulated. And, too, the evident contrast between the ideals aimed at, and the results attained, is often so great that one hesitates to say in so many words just what is his ideal.

Still there have been developed in the other leading professions, those that are regarded as the most reputable and noteworthy, certain recognized principles which serve to guide their members in many ways. The full comprehension of such principles as an authoritative guide tends to a correct measurement of the real value of one's professional work. Likewise, while supplying certain ideals at the outset, they may aid in determining the lines of effort and action which will tend to elevate the profession itself and to the attainment of individual success in its pursuits.

Perhaps it is too soon in the history of so young a profession to expect very much in the nature of such formulations. To properly enumerate and determine the essential principles must call for the attention of many minds, working each in their own channel but aimed in the same general direction, until the final outcome shall be a fully developed and rounded code of library ethics which will thus be entitled to and gain well deserved recognition and observance.

If, in the views and various thoughts, which I have presumed to set forth at this time, such ideas as have a bearing on this last named topic shall serve as hints to spur on some abler and more philosophically versed person or persons to undertake the task, or serve as a ground upon which to build a foundation code, I shall be greatly pleased.

WHAT MAY BE DONE FOR LIBRARIES BY THE CITY.

By Thomas L. Montgomery, Trustee Free Library of Philadelphia.

When, in the course of human events, it became necessary for our people to dissolve the political bonds which connected them with another, pretty much everything was declared a free and an inalienable right with the exception of the public library. Whether it would have escaped the attention of that founder of circulating libraries and everything else that is useful, had it not been a time of extraordinary pressure of business, or whether he purposely neglected it in the belief that a people that had expressed such lofty sentiments as to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness might well be trusted to consider such matters in due time it is not our purpose to discuss. He does not hesitate to give credit to the libraries in his autobiography for making the common tradesmen and farmers as intelligent as most gentlemen in other countries, and for contributing in some degree to the stand so generally made throughout the colonies in defense of their privileges. It was not until about 1850 that the desirability of a city library was suggested to the City Council of Boston by Josiah Quincy, then mayor. The council cautiously Resolved, "That it would accept any donation from citizens or others for the purpose of commencing a public city library and that whenever the library shall be of the value of $30,000 it will be expedient for the city to provide a suitable place and arrangements to enable it to be used by the citizens with as great a degree of freedom as the security of the property will permit." In July, 1852, the trustees made a report "that in their opinion the finances of the city will not permit of the erecting of a building and the purchase of an ample library." They suggest "a moderate expenditure on the part of the city for the purchase of books and the compensation of a librarian." It was soon after this that Mr. Bates made his famous gift of $50,000 worth of books "on condition that the city provide an adequate building which shall be an ornament to the city." A complete history of this institution would seem to be the best possible answer which could be made to the question before us. What can the city do for the free library. With a magnificent collection of 700,000 books, selected under the administration of some of the best men who have dignified our profession, and housed in the most expensive building ever erected by a city for such a purpose, it would appear that the citizen of Boston might rightly exclaim "Si monumentum quaeris, circumspice."

The things that can be done by a city are innumerable; what it ought to do and what it will do are perhaps more easily dealt with. Thinking I might obtain some information on the subject I asked the question of the librarian of the Free Library of Philadelphia. He settled himself in his chair and assuming the tone of an oracle said that there were three things that the city should do for its library. 1. Provide an adequate appropriation for its maintenance; 2. Provide an extra appropriation for emergencies; and 3. Provide a special appropriation for some particular work which the librarian might be particularly interested in at the time. I asked several other prominent librarians the same question and their answers were to the same purport—namely, if the city could furnish sufficient money they felt themselves fully competent to build up an ideal institution.

We all know as a matter of fact that the strong libraries of the country have been built up by other means than the mere appropriation of money by city councils, and it is not unreasonable to mention as the first of these the librarian. The city should see to it that this individual is a man (or woman) strong, intellectual and vigorous, without bumptiousness, which is often mistaken for vigor, and with those qualities which will procure for him respectful attention from even those who may be opposed to him. I have often heard addresses made before this Association bewailing the fact that the city librarian had to deal with certain political elements which very much hampered him. I should regard this state of affairs as belonging to the time when the college president was necessarily a professor of moral philosophy whose duties consisted of receiving the senior class for one hour a week to discuss Whewell's "Elements." Such an officer must now be an active administrative power as well as an intellectual entity to at all meet the modern requirements, and in like manner the public librarian should deem it a privilege to meet the representatives of the city government and to have the opportunity of impressing the needs of his institution upon them. There is no better test of the capacity of the man for the great work in which he is engaged.

Speaking practically I would state that in the building up of the Philadelphia Free Library in which I have taken an active interest, the political elements have always responded most generously to our requests, and that the library has been more inconvenienced by the writings and personal influence of certain well-to-do-citizens upon whom the word "paternalism" has acted as a nightmare than by any difficulty with the city government.

While the city should provide means and a proper official to conduct the institution it should take much more care in the selection of the board of trustees than is usually the case. They should be representative men, who not only should be able to assist the librarian in the formation of an educational institution, but also be able to devote a considerable amount of time to matters relating to its policy. If the librarian is not a systematic business man, one of the board or a committee should be delegated to attend to the financial affairs, as it is absolutely necessary that the accounts shall be at all times in as good condition as in the most punctilious business house.

I would also suggest that a certain modesty be observed in the carrying out of such work by a municipality. It is hard to think of anything that could be said for this proposition when the magnificent buildings of Boston, Chicago and Pittsburgh are taken into consideration; but I would respectfully submit that the feeling of unrest among the great army of industrial workers throughout the civilized world is growing. With the tremendous progress in science and industry these people are claiming that they can see no gain in the position of the common people. This discontent has manifested itself lately in the opposition of the labor organizations of certain towns to the munificent proposition made by one of the most conscientious men who has ever been numbered among the multimillionaires of the world. While it is not always wise to consider too seriously the socialistic murmurings of a few negative people, I submit that it is our duty to consider the effect produced upon the poorest and most scantily clad patron of our libraries.

It is necessary that the library should be housed in a fireproof building as soon as possible, and the owners of valuable books will always choose such an institution for such gifts as they may make. I believe that the Boston Library has received donations equal to half the cost of the building since it has been housed in Copley square.

Finally, the city should insist that the library be an educational institution and not receive its appropriation for recreation mainly. The extraordinary demand for light fiction in public libraries has led to a very unsatisfactory condition of affairs, and it is not uncommon to find 300 copies of a new novel necessary to at all meet the demand. There is every indication that the public library will be furnished with a happy release from this call upon their resources by the institution of the Book Lovers' Library which has now extended its branches to all the important cities. If this system can be extended on good business principles, the happiness of public libraries would be complete notwithstanding the slight falling off in circulation that might follow.

The motto of every such institution should be: Libri libere liberis, which being freely translated, means: "A free people should have open shelves if possible."

WHAT MAY BE DONE FOR LIBRARIES BY THE STATE. [A]

By E. A. Birge, President Board of Directors, Madison (Wis.) Public Library.

The relation of the state to libraries may be considered from three points of view. The first and oldest library function of the state has been the maintenance of a state library, usually begun for the convenience of the legislature and in many states enlarged into a general library. With this function has also gone the indirect support of libraries for historical and scientific societies, incorporated by the state and in some degree representing it. Much might be said on possible lines of work for the state in this direction, but as this function is the oldest and best understood, it may be named and passed without further discussion.

Second, the state holds a relation to the local libraries in communities which are supporting free libraries without aid from the state. The state aids these libraries by enacting proper laws for their organization. In general, the statutes should be such as will give the local library the best opportunity for organization, and will leave it when organized the largest amount of freedom in doing its work. The earlier library laws of the states have very generally contained the provision that, in order to establish a library in a community, the proposition must be accepted by a majority of the voters at an election. This provision has been found disadvantageous in Wisconsin, and was eliminated from our library

law in 1897. Experience has shown that it is better to leave the establishment of a library, like other public works of necessity and utility, to the common council, or other representatives of the people in the larger towns and cities, rather than to commit the proposition to the chance of a general election.

The third function of the state with reference to libraries is that which may be called library extension. Here the state acts directly to aid in the establishment of libraries and the extension of library work in the communities which would otherwise lack libraries. The necessity for this work has become apparent to the more progressive states of the Union within recent years. The justification of this work lies in two main reasons. First, libraries continue for the older youth of the community and for adults the education which the state requires for children. It is neither fair nor right for the state to maintain a system of education which develops a love of knowledge and of reading, and then leave the community without the means for continuing in later youth the development begun in childhood. Second, it is known that the intellectual isolation of the rural communities is one of the main reasons for the much-lamented drift from the country into the cities, and it has been found that the establishment of libraries affords one of the most important means of bringing these small communities into intellectual touch with the world.

The states then which have undertaken this work of library extension have usually done so by means of the library commission. The first commission was established by Massachusetts in 1890. Seventeen states had established such commissions by the end of 1900—more than half of them in the two years preceding that date. I have no statistics regarding the establishment of such commissions in 1901. The work of these commissions may be either advisory or missionary, aiding in the establishment of libraries in the smaller communities which are able to establish and maintain them under the guidance and advice of the commission, and directly furnishing library facilities to the smallest and weakest communities. In certain states direct state aid is given to the smaller libraries, notably in Massachusetts, where each town library established under the rules of the commission receives books to the amount of $100. In some states aid is given in the purchase of books. The direct furnishing of libraries is done mainly by means of travelling libraries. So far as I can learn, these are now distributed by six states. The system has grown throughout the Union, in various manifestations, and its influence in bringing books to the communities that most lack and need them has been of the utmost value. This work is one of the greatest importance, and yet I believe it is one which will ultimately pass into the hands of the counties or smaller governmental bodies than the state.

Lastly, the commissions are aiding in the library work by the establishment of library schools. In Wisconsin a summer school for library training has been held for the past seven years, and represents a class of work which it seems important that each state should undertake, namely: the training of librarians for the smaller libraries in which the salaries paid are necessarily so small that the librarians cannot afford the expense of a complete course in library training. This instruction applies especially to persons already in charge of small libraries throughout the state, who have not had the opportunity to secure professional training for their work, and it is of great value in bringing them in touch with library effort and setting higher standards of purpose and efficiency. Experience has shown that in a two months' summer session instruction can be given of the greatest value to those who are to have charge of this class of libraries.

In this department of library extension which the states have been entering upon during the past decade lies the most important work which the state can undertake for libraries. The work of the library commissions means a systematic employment of the library as an educational and social factor in the progress of the people. This is the true mission of the library, and the most important function of the state lies in effectively aiding it to perform this work.

WHAT MAY BE DONE FOR LIBRARIES BY THE NATION.

By Herbert Putnam, Librarian of Congress.

You have had suggestions as to what may be done for libraries by the city and what by the state. Whatever is left over—if there is anything left over—I am to treat as something that may be done by the nation—the nation not as an aggregate of its parts, but as a unit, acting through its central authority. There is a disposition to contend that everything which may be more effectively or more economically done by a central authority for the larger area should be undertaken by that authority. I am not prepared to go so far. There may be a value in local effort that will repay its greater cost. But in an educational work which involves the accumulation of material some of which is exceedingly costly, only part of which is constantly in use, and little of which perishes by use; a work whose processes are capable of organization on a large scale and the application of co-operative effort: there must be certain undertakings which, relatively speaking, are possible only if assumed by a central authority. It is such undertakings, for the largest area, that I am asked to discover and set forth.

To do so involves consequences which may be inconvenient. For a possible service means a correlative duty. And as I myself to a degree represent here the central authority in question, whatever I state as a service appropriate for that authority, I shall have to admit as a duty in which I must share. I shall try to be candid. But under the circumstances I cannot be expected to be more than candid.

In some respects the Federal Government of the United States has already influenced the constitution, resources and service of our public libraries. It has enacted laws which, having for their primary purpose the protection of authors and publishers, benefit libraries by encouraging the manufacture of books soundly, substantially and honestly made. It has favored public libraries by exempting from tariff duty books imported for their use. It has encouraged the study of the classics by laying a penalty upon the general importation of books less than twenty years old. In its executive capacity it is itself investigator, author, publisher, manufacturer, distributor, statistician, bibliographer, and librarian. It maintains at Washington, with a generosity not paralleled by any other government, bureaus for scientific research; it compiles, publishes, and freely distributes the results of this research. It is the greatest publisher in the world, and the largest manufacturer of books. In a single publication, repeated each year, it consumes over a million pounds of paper stock; and it maintains a bureau whose purpose is to replenish the forests which as publisher it thus depletes. It distributes gratuitously to the libraries of the United States each year over 300,000 volumes, embodying the results of its research, its legislative proceedings, and an account of its administrative activities. It maintains a bureau for the investigation of problems in education, for the accumulation and dissemination of information concerning the work of educational institutions; and it has included the public libraries of this country among such educational institutions. This bureau has issued three reports tabulating statistics concerning them, one also (in 1876) summarizing their history and two (in 1876 and in 1893) containing essays which embody the best contemporary opinion as to library equipment and methods. It has published as a document the A. L. A. list of best books to form the basis of a public library.

Through its bureau of documents it is seeking to index and adequately to exhibit its own publications, to facilitate their distribution to libraries and to afford to libraries as to federal documents a clearing house for duplicates.

All such services are obviously appropriate for the national authority and may doubtless be continued and extended. If the interchange of books among libraries is to be facilitated by special postal regulations this can be accomplished by the national authority alone.

But in the case of a state a service has been described which is to be rendered to local libraries by the library which the state itself owns and maintains. Now the federal government also owns and maintains libraries. What may be demanded of these? Certain precedents have already been established. The library of the Surgeon General's office—the most comprehensive in the world within its special field—sends its books to members of the medical profession throughout the United States, relieving just so much the burden upon local libraries; and it has issued a catalog which is not merely in form and method efficient, but is so nearly an exhibit of the entire literature of the medical sciences that it renders unnecessary duplication of cataloging and analytical work within the field which it covers. This catalog has conferred a general benefit not equalled by any bibliographic work within any other department of literature. It is perhaps the most eminent bibliographic work yet accomplished by any government. The cost of its mere publication—which is the cost chargeable to the general benefit—has already exceeded $250,000.

But this library is but one of several collections maintained by the Federal Government; the aggregate of which is already nearly two million volumes. In each federal department and bureau there is a library. And there is a central collection which in itself is already the largest on the western hemisphere. It was created as a legislative library—for the use of both Houses of Congress. It is still called the Library of Congress. But it is now being referred to as something more. The government has erected for it a building which is the largest, most elaborate, and most costly yet erected for library purposes. The seven million dollars which it cost has been paid not by the District of Columbia, but by the country at large. No such sum would have been requisite for a building to serve Congress alone. It seems to intend a library that shall serve the country at large, if there is any such thing possible. In fact the library is already being referred to as the National Library of the United States. What does this mean? or rather, what may this mean? One naturally looks abroad—to the foremost of national libraries.

The British Museum is a huge repository of material. In scope it is universal. Its purpose is accumulation, preservation, and the aid of research by accredited persons, upon its own premises. Its service is purely responsive. It has printed catalogs of its own collections, but does not undertake bibliographic work general in nature, nor engage in co-operative bibliographic undertakings. It lends no books.

But I fear you will hardly be satisfied with the analogy. The British Museum, you will say, is placed in a city which is not merely the capital of the British Empire, but the metropolis; the literary metropolis also of the Anglo-Saxon race. The Library of Congress is at the capital of the United States. But this capital is not itself a metropolis. No student in Great Britain has to travel over 500 miles to reach the British Museum. A student in the United States may have to travel as much as 3000 miles to reach the Library of Congress. The area which supports the national library of Great Britain is but 100,000 square miles; that which supports the National Library of the United States is ever 3,000,000 square miles. The conditions differ, and therefore, you will say, the obligation. If there is any way in which our National Library may "reach out" from Washington it should reach out. Its first duty is no doubt as a legislative library—to Congress. Its next is as a federal library to aid the executive and judicial departments of the government and the scientific undertakings under governmental auspices. Its next is to that general research which may be carried on at Washington by resident and visiting students and scholars: which in American history, political and social science, public administration, jurisprudence and international law is likely to make Washington its center, and which, under the auspices of the Washington Memorial Institution—that new project for post graduate study involving the use of the scientific collections and scientific experts at Washington—is likely to be organized in various branches of the natural and physical sciences as well. But this should not be the limit. There should be possible also a service to the country at large: a service to be extended through the libraries which are the local centers of research involving the use of books. That claim may be made. Now what at Washington might be useful to these libraries?

(A lively imagination is not requisite.) Suppose there could be a collection of books universal in scope, as no local library with limited funds and limited space can hope to be: a collection that shall contain also particularly (1) original sources, (2) works of high importance for occasional reference, but whose cost to procure and maintain precludes their acquisition by a local library pressed to secure the material of ordinary and constant need, and (3) the "useless" books; books not costly to acquire, but of so little general concern as not to justify cataloging, space and care in each local library if only they are known to be preserved and accessible somewhere.

Such a collection must include also the general mass of books sought and held by local libraries—the books for the ordinary reader; the daily tools of research. Its maintenance will involve processes—of classification and cataloging—highly costly. Suppose the results of these processes could be made generally available, so as to save duplication of such expenditure upon identical material held by local libraries?

A collection universal in scope will afford opportunity for bibliographic work not equalled elsewhere. Such work centered there might advance the general interest with the least aggregate effort. The adequate interpretation of such a collection will involve the maintenance of a corps of specialists. Suppose these specialists could be available to answer inquiries from all parts of the country as to what material exists on any particular subject, where it is, how it may be had, how most effectively it may be used?

There are special collections already existent in various localities in the United States and likely to come into being through special local advantage or incentive, or the interest of private collectors, or private endowment—which cannot be duplicated at Washington. Suppose there could be at Washington a bibliographic statement of that which is peculiar to each of these collections; in brief, a catalog of the books in the United States—not of every library, not of every copy of every book, but of every book available for an investigator?

There are various bibliographic undertakings which may be co-operative. Suppose there could be at Washington a central bureau—with approved methods, standard forms, adequate editorial capacity, and liberal facilities for publication—which could organize and co-ordinate this work among the libraries of the United States and represent them in such of it as—like the new Royal Society index—is to be international?

There is the exchange of material duplicated in one library, needed by another. Suppose there could be at Washington a bureau which would serve as a clearing house for miscellaneous duplicates as the Bureau of Documents serves for documents? It might accomplish much without handling a single article; it might, like a clearing house proper as it were, set debit against credit, i. e., compare the deficiencies in one library with the surplus in another and communicate the results to the institutions interested. It might do this upon slip lists sent in by each—of duplicates and of particular deficiencies—in sets, for instance. One of my associates has been guilty of this very suggestion. It is likely to bring something upon his head. He may have his choice between live coals and the ashes of repentance.

Now those are some of the things which might be asserted as the duty of Washington to the country at large. I have touched them as lightly as possible: but there they are. And we may not be able to avoid them. Nay, we seem to be drifting toward them. To some of them we are apparently already committed.

There is the building: that in itself seems to commit us. There is equipment. There are books. As regards any national service the federal libraries should be one library. They contain nearly two million volumes. The Library of Congress contains net some 700,000 books and a half million other items. It has for increase (1) deposits under the copyright law, (2) documents acquired through distribution of the federal documents placed at its disposal for exchange—formerly 50 copies of each, now 100, (3) books and society publications acquired by the Smithsonian through its exchanges, (4) miscellaneous gifts and exchanges, and, (5) purchases from appropriations. These have increased from $10,000 a year prior to 1897 to $70,000 for the year 1901-2.

Such resources are by no means omnipotent. No resources can make absolutely comprehensive a library starting its deliberate accumulations at the end of the 19th century. Too much material has already been absorbed into collections from which it will never emerge.

But universality in scope does not mean absolute comprehensiveness in detail. With its purchasing funds and other resources the Library of Congress bids fair to become the strongest collection in the United States in bibliography, in Americana (omitting the earliest), in political and social science, public administration, jurisprudence. If any American library can secure the documents which will exhibit completely legislation proposed and legislation enacted it should be able to. As depository of the library of the Smithsonian it will have the most important collection—perhaps in the world—of the transactions and proceedings of learned societies; and, adding its own exchanges and subscriptions, of serials in general. With theology it may not especially concern itself nor with philology to the degree appropriate to a university library. Medicine it will leave as a specialty to the library of the Surgeon-General's office, already pre-eminent, Geology to the library of the Geological Survey. Two extremes it may have to abstain from—so far as deliberate purchase is concerned: (1) the books merely popular, (2) the books merely curious. Of the first many will come to it through copyright; of the second many should come through gift. (Perhaps in time the public spirit of American collectors and donors may turn to it as the public spirit of the British turns to the National Library of Great Britain.) Original sources must come to it, if at all, chiefly by gift. Manuscript material relating to American history it has, however, bought, and will buy.

Otherwise, chiefly printed books. Of these, the useful books; of these again, the books useful rather for the establishment of the fact than for the mere presentation of it—the books for the advancement of learning, rather than those for the mere diffusion of knowledge.

Lastly there is an organization. Instead of 42 persons, for all manner of service, there are now 261, irrespective of printers, binders, and the force attending to the care of the building itself.

The copyright work is set off and interferes no longer with the energies of the library proper. There is a separate division having to do with the acquisition of material, another—of 67 persons—to classify and catalog it. There are 42 persons attending to the ordinary service of the reading room as supplied from the stacks, and there are eight special divisions handling severally the current newspapers and periodicals, the documents, manuscripts, maps, music, prints, the scientific publications forming the Smithsonian deposit, and the books for the blind. There is a Division of Bibliography whose function is to assist in research too elaborate for the routine service of the reading room, to edit the library publications, and to represent the library in co-operative bibliographic undertakings. There is now within the building, besides a bindery, with a force of 45 employees, a printing office, with a force of 21. The allotment for printing and binding, in 1896 only $15,000, is for the coming year $90,000.

The immediate duty of this organization is near at hand. There is a huge arrear of work upon the existing collection—necessary for its effective use, and its intelligent growth. It must be newly classified throughout; and shelf listed. The old author slip catalog must be revised and reduced to print. There must be compiled a subject catalog, of which none now exists. Innumerable gaps—that which is crooked can be made straight, but that which is wanting cannot be numbered—innumerable gaps are to be ascertained and filled. A collection of reference books must be placed back at the Capitol, with suitable apparatus, to bring the library once more into touch with Congress and enable it to render the service to Congress which is its first duty. The other libraries of the District must be brought into association—not by gathering their collections into the Library of Congress, but by co-ordinating processes and service. The Library of Congress as the center of the system can aid in this. It can strengthen each departmental library by relieving it of material not necessary to its special work. It can aid toward specialization in these departmental libraries by exhibiting present unnecessary duplication. (It is just issuing a union list of serials currently taken by the libraries of the District which has this very purpose.) It can very likely print the catalog cards for all the government libraries—incidentally securing uniformity, and a copy for its own use of each card—which in time will result in a complete statement within its own walls of the resources of every departmental library in Washington. It will supply to each such library a copy of every card which it prints of a book in its own collections relating to the work of the bureau which such library serves.

To reduce to order the present collection, incorporating the current accessions, to fill the most inconvenient gaps, to supply the most necessary apparatus in catalogs and to bring about a relation among the libraries of Washington which shall form them into an organic system: this work will of itself be a huge one. I have spoken of the equipment of the Library of Congress as elaborate, the force as large, and the appropriations as generous. All are so in contrast to antecedent conditions. In proportion to the work to be done, however, they are not merely not excessive, but in some respects far short of the need. To proceed beyond those immediate undertakings to projects of general service will require certain equipment, service, and funds not yet secured, and which can be secured only by a general effort. But the question is not what can be done, but what may be done—in due time, eventually.

A general distribution of the printed cards: That has been suggested. It was suggested a half century ago by the Federal Government through the Smithsonian Institution. Professor Jewett's proposal then was a central bureau to compile, print and distribute cards which might serve to local libraries as a catalog of their own collections. Such a project is now before this Association. It may not be feasible: that is, it might not result in the economy which it suggests. It assumes a large number of books to be acquired, in the same editions, by many libraries, at the same time. In fact, the enthusiasm for the proposal at the Montreal meeting last year has resulted in but sixty subscriptions to the actual project.

It may not be feasible. But if such a scheme can be operated at all it may perhaps be operated most effectively through the library which for its own uses is cataloging and printing a card for every book currently copyrighted in the United States, and for a larger number of others than any other single institution. Such must be confessed of the Library of Congress. It is printing a card for every book currently copyrighted, for every other book currently added—for every book reached in re-classification—and thus in the end for every book in its collection. It is now printing, at the rate of over 200 titles a day—60,000 titles a year. The entry is an author entry, in form and type accepted by the committee on cataloging of the A. L. A. The cards are of the standard size—3 × 5 inches—of the best linen ledger stock. From 15 to 100 copies of each are now printed. It would be uncandid to say that such a number is necessary for the use of the library itself, or of the combined libraries at Washington. The usefulness of copies of them to any other library for incorporation in its catalogs must depend upon local conditions: the style, form, and size of its own cards, the number of books which it adds yearly, the proportion of these which are current, and other related matters. On these points we have sought statistics from 254 libraries. We have them from 202. With them we have samples of the cards in use by each, with a complete author entry. Having them we are in a position really to estimate the chances. I will not enter into details. Summarily, it appears that our cards might effect a great saving to certain libraries and some saving to others, and would entail a mere expense without benefit to the remainder—all of which is as might have been guessed.

The distribution suggested by Professor Jewett and proposed by the A. L. A. had in view a saving to the recipient library of cataloging and printing on its own account. It assumed a subscription by each recipient to cover the cost of the extra stock and presswork. There is conceivable a distribution more limited in range, having another purpose. The national library wishes to get into touch with the local libraries which are centers for important research. It wishes the fullest information as to their contents; it may justifiably supply them with the fullest information as to its own contents. Suppose it should supply them with a copy of every card which it prints, getting in return a copy of every card which they print? I am obliged to disclose this suggestion: for such an exchange has already been begun. A copy of every card printed by the Library of Congress goes out to the New York Public Library: a copy of every card printed by the New York Public Library comes to the Library of Congress. In the new building of the New York Public Library there will be a section of the public card catalog designated The Catalog of the Library of Congress. It will contain at least every title in the Library of Congress not to be found in any library of the metropolis. In the Library of Congress a section of the great card catalog of American libraries outside the District will be a catalog of the New York Public Library.

I have here a letter from the librarian of Cornell University forwarding a resolution of the Library Council (composed in part of faculty members) which requests for the university library a set of these cards. Mr. Harris states that the purpose would be to fit up cases of drawers in the catalog room, which is freely accessible to any one desiring to consult bibliographical aids, and arrange the cards in alphabetical order by authors, thus making an author catalog of the set. He adds "The whole question has been rather carefully considered and the unanimous sense of the council was that the usefulness of the catalog to us would be well worth the cost of the cases, the space they would occupy, and the time it would take to arrange and keep in order the cards."

There is a limit to such a distribution. But I suspect that it will not stop with New York and Ithaca.

There is some expense attendant on it. There is the extra stock, the presswork, the labor of sorting and despatching. No postage, however, for the Library of Congress has the franking privilege, in and out. The results however: one cannot deny them to be attractive. At Washington a statement of at least the distinctive contents of every great local collection. At each local center of research a statement of the distinctive contents of the national collection. An inquirer in Wisconsin writes to Washington: is such a book to be had in the United States; must he come to Washington for it, or to New York?—No, he will find it in Chicago at the Newberry or the Crerar.

If there can be such a thing as a bibliographic bureau for the United States, the Library of Congress is in a way to become one; to a degree, in fact, a bureau of information for the United States. Besides routine workers efficient as a body, it has already some expert bibliographers and within certain lines specialists. It has not a complete corps of these. It cannot have until Congress can be made to understand the need of them. Besides its own employees, however, it has within reach by telephone a multitude of experts. They are maintained by the very government which maintains it. They are learned men, efficient men, specially trained, willing to give freely of their special knowledge. They enter the government employ and remain there, not for the pecuniary compensation, which is shamefully meagre, but for the love of the work itself and for the opportunity for public service which it affords. Of these men, in the scientific bureaus at Washington, the National Library can take counsel: it can secure their aid to develop its collections and to answer inquiries of moment. This will be within the field of the natural and physical sciences. Meantime within its walls it possesses already excellent capacity for miscellaneous research, and special capacity for meeting inquiries in history and topography, in general literature, and in the special literature of economics, mathematics and physics. It has still Ainsworth Spofford and the other men, who with him, under extraordinary disadvantages, for thirty-five years made the library useful at the Capitol.

The library is already issuing publications in book form. In part these are catalogs of its own contents; in part an exhibit of the more important material in existence on some subject of current interest, particularly, of course, in connection with national affairs. Even during the period of organization fifteen such lists have already been issued. They are distributed freely to libraries and even to individual inquirers.

But there may be something further. The distribution of cards which exhibit its own contents or save duplication of expense elsewhere, the publication of bibliographies which aid to research, expert service which in answer to inquiry points out the best sources and the most effective methods of research: all these may have their use. But how about the books themselves? Must the use of this great collection be limited to Washington? How many of the students who need some book in the Library of Congress—perhaps there alone—can come to Washington to consult it at the moment of need? A case is conceivable: a university professor at Madison or Berkeley or San Antonio, in connection with research important to scholarship, requires some volume in an unusual set. The set is not in the university library. It is too costly for that library to acquire for the infrequent need. The volume is in the National Library. It is not at the moment in use at Washington. The university library requests the loan of it. If the National Library is to be the national library——?

There might result some inconvenience. There would be also the peril of transit. Some volumes might be lost to posterity. But after all we are ourselves a posterity. Some respect is due to the ancestors who have saved for our use. And if one copy of a book possessed by the federal government and within reasonable limits subject to call by different institutions, might suffice for the entire United States—what does logic seem to require—and expediency—and the good of the greater number?

The Library of Congress is now primarily a reference library. But if there be any citizen who thinks that it should never lend a book—to another library—in aid of the higher research—when the book can be spared from Washington and is not a book within the proper duty of the local library to supply—if there be any citizen who thinks that for the National Library to lend under these circumstances would be a misuse of its resources and, therefore, an abuse of trust—he had better speak quickly, or he may be too late. Precedents may be created which it would be awkward to ignore.

Really I have been speaking of the Library of Congress as if it were the only activity of the federal government of interest to libraries. That, however, is the fault of the topic. It was not what might be done for science, for literature, for the advance of learning, for the diffusion of knowledge. It was merely what might be done for libraries; as it were, not for the glory of God, but for the advancement of the church. We have confidence in the mission of libraries and consider anything in aid of it as good in itself.

Their most stimulating, most fruitful service must be the direct service. The service of the national authority must in large part be merely indirect. It can meet the reader at large only through the local authority. It can serve the great body of readers chiefly through the local libraries which meet them face to face, know their needs, supply their most ordinary needs. Its natural agent—we librarians at least must think this—is its own library—the library which if there is to be a national library not merely of, but for the United States—must be that library.

Must become such, I should have said. For we are not yet arrived. We cannot arrive until much preliminary work has been done, and much additional resource secured from Congress. We shall arrive the sooner in proportion as you who have in charge the municipal and collegiate libraries of the United States will urge upon Congress the advantage to the interests you represent, of undertakings such as I have described. To this point we have not asked your aid. In the equipment of the library, in the reconstruction of its service, in the addition of more expert service, in the improvement of immediate facilities, our appeal to Congress has been based on the work to be done near at hand. I have admitted to you the possibility of these other undertakings of more general concern. If they commend themselves to you as proper and useful—the appeal for them must be primarily your appeal.

THE TRUSTEESHIP OF LITERATURE—I.

By George Iles, New York City.

Six months ago the curtain descended upon what is likely to be accounted the most memorable century in the annals of mankind. So salient are three of its characteristics that they challenge the eye of the most casual retrospection. First of all, we see that knowledge was increased at a pace beyond precedent, to be diffused throughout the world with a new thoroughness and fidelity. Next we must observe how republican government passed from the slender ties spun in the times of Washington, Jefferson and Adams, to the intimate and pervasive cords of to-day, when, as never before, the good of the bee is bound up with the welfare of the hive. Parallel with this political union of each and all there was a growth of free organization which, in every phase of life, has secured uncounted benefits which only joined hands may receive. Fresh torches of light fraternally borne from the centers of civilization to its circumference have tended to bring the arts and ideals of life everywhere to the level of the best. These distinctive features of the nineteenth century were in little evidence at its dawn, but they became more and more manifest with each succeeding decade. In American librarianship, as in many another sphere of labor, more was accomplished in the last quarter of the century than in the seventy-five preceding years.

It is as recently as 1852 that Boston opened the doors of the first free public library established in an American city. Its founders were convinced that what was good for the students at Harvard, the subscribers to the Athenæum, was good for everybody else. Literature, they felt, was a trust to be administered not for a few, but for the many, to be, indeed, hospitably proffered to all. To this hour, by a wise and generous responsiveness to its ever-growing duties, the Boston foundation remains a model of what a metropolitan library should be. As with the capital, so with the state; to-day Massachusetts is better provided with free public libraries than any other commonwealth on the globe; only one in two hundred of her people are unserved by them, while within her borders the civic piety of her sons and daughters has reared more than six score library buildings. The library commission of the state is another model in its kind; its powers are in the main advisory, but when a struggling community desires to establish a library, and contributes to that end, the commission tenders judicious aid. The population of Massachusetts is chiefly urban, an exceptional case, for taking the Union as a whole, notwithstanding the constant drift to the cities, much more than half the people are still to be found in the country. For their behoof village libraries have appeared in thousands. Still more effective, because linked with one another, are the travelling libraries, inaugurated by Mr. Melvil Dewey in New York in 1893, and since adopted in many other states of the Union, and several provinces of Canada. All this registers how the democracy of letters has come to its own. Schools public and free ensure to the American child its birthright of instruction; libraries, also public and free, are rising to supplement that instruction, to yield the light and lift, the entertainment and stimulus that literature stands ready to bestow. The old-time librarian, who was content to be a mere custodian of books, has passed from the stage forever; in his stead we find an officer anxious that his store shall do all the people the utmost possible good. To that end he combines the zeal of the missionary with the address of a consummate man of business. Little children are invited to cheery rooms with kind and intelligent hospitality; teachers and pupils from the public schools are welcomed to classrooms where everything is gathered that the library can offer for their use; helpful bulletins and consecutive reading lists are issued for the home circle; every book, magazine and newspaper is bought, as far as feasible, with an eye to the special wants and interests of the community; information desks are set up; and partnerships are formed with expositors of acknowledged merit, with museums of industry, of natural history, of the fine arts. Not the borrowers only, but the buyers of books are remembered. The Standard Library, brought together by Mr. W. E. Foster, in Providence, is a shining example in this regard.

The sense of trusteeship thus variously displayed has had a good many sources; let us confine our attention to one of them. During the past hundred years the treasure committed to the keeping of librarians has undergone enrichment without parallel in any preceding age. We have more and better books than ever before; they mean more than in any former time for right living and sound thinking. A rough and ready classification of literature, true enough in substance, divides it into books of power, of information, and of entertainment. Let us look at these three departments a little in detail. Restricting our purview to the English tongue, we find the honor roll of its literature lengthened by the names of Wordsworth, Tennyson and Matthew Arnold, Carlyle and Ruskin, Emerson and Lowell. And not only to authors such as these must our debt be acknowledged. We owe scholarly editors nearly as much. In Spedding's Bacon, the Shakesperean studies of Mr. Furniss, and the Chaucer of Professor Skeat, we have typical examples of services not enjoyed by any former age. To-day the supreme poets, seers and sages of all time are set before us in the clearest sunshine; their gold, refined from all admixture, is minted for a currency impossible before. In their original, unedited forms, the masterpieces of our language are now cheap enough to find their way to the lowliest cottage of the cross-roads.

It is not, however, in the field of literature pure and simple that the manna fell most abundantly during the past hundred years. Mr. Alfred Russel Wallace, the last of the great students who took all natural history for their province, declares that the advances in discovery, invention and generalization during the nineteenth century outweigh those of all preceding time. Admit this judgment, and at once is explained why the records and the spirit of science dominate the literature of the last ten decades. And let us note that while books of knowledge have increased beyond measure, they have appeared with a helpfulness and with merits wholly new. For the first time in the history of letters, men and women of successful experience, of practised and skilful pens, write books which, placed in the hands of the people, enlighten their toil, diminish their drudgery, and sweeten their lives. Cross the threshold of the home and there is not a task, from choosing a carpet to rearing a baby, that has not been illuminated by at least one good woman of authority in her theme. On the heights of the literature of science we have a quality and distinction unknown before these later days. The modern war on evil and pain displays weapons of an edge and force of which our forefathers never dared to dream; its armies march forward not in ignorant hope, but with the assured expectation of victory. All this inspires leaders like Huxley, Spencer and Fiske with an eloquence, a power to convince and persuade, new in the annals of human expression and as characteristic of the nineteenth century as the English poetry of the sixteenth, in the glorious era of Elizabeth. The literature of knowledge is not only fuller and better than of old, it is more wisely employed. In the classroom, and when school days are done, we now understand how the printed page may best direct and piece out the work of the hand, the eye and the ear; not for a moment deluding ourselves with the notion that we have grasped truth merely because we can spell the word. To-day we first consider the lilies of the field, not the lilies of the printer; that done it is time enough to take up a formal treatise which will clarify and frame our knowledge. If a boy is by nature a mechanic, a book of the right sort shows him how to construct a simple steam engine or an electric motor. Is he an amateur photographer, other books, excellently illustrated, give him capital hints for work with his camera. It is in thus rounding out the circle which springs from the school desk that the public library justifies its equal claim to support from the public treasury.

In the third and last domain of letters, that of fiction, there is a veritable embarrassment of riches. During the three generations past the art of story-telling culminated in works of all but Shakesperean depth and charm. We have only to recall Scott and Thackeray, Hawthorne, George Eliot and Thomas Hardy, to be reminded that an age of science may justly boast of novelists and romancers such as the world never knew before. No phase of life but has been limned with photographic fidelity, no realm of imagination but has been bodied forth as if by experience on fire, so that many a book which bears the name of fiction might well be labelled as essential truth. Within the past decade, however, the old veins have approached their bounds, while new lodes do not as yet appear. Of this the tokens are the eager sifting of the rubbish heap, the elaborate picturing of the abnormal and the gross. Pens unable to afford either delight or cheer have abundant capacity, often with evident malice, to strike the nerves of horror and of pain. If at the present hour high achievement in fiction is rare, if we hear more echoes than ever and fewer voices, quantity abounds to the point of surfeit. With an output in America alone of 616 works for 1900, all fears of famine may well be allayed.

The main fact of the situation then is that the librarian's trust has of late years undergone stupendous increase; this at once broadens his opportunities and adds to his burdens. Gold and silver, iron and lead, together with much dross, are commingled in a heap which rises every hour. Before a trust can be rightly and gainfully administered, its trustees must know in detail what it is that they guard, what its several items are worth, what they are good for. And let us remember that literature consists in but small part of metals which declare themselves to all men as gold or lead; much commoner are alloys of every conceivable degree of worth or worthlessness. There is plainly nothing for it but to have recourse to the crucibles of the professional assayer, it becomes necessary to add to the titles of our catalogs some responsible word as to what books are and what rank they occupy in an order of just precedence.

This task of a competent and candid appraisal of literature, as a necessity of its trusteeship, has been before the minds of this Association for a good many years. A notable Step toward its accomplishment was taken when Mr. Samuel S. Green, in 1879, allied himself with the teachers of Worcester, Massachusetts, that they and he together might select books for the public schools of that city. The work began and has proceeded upon comprehensive lines. Such literature has been chosen as may usefully and acceptably form part of the daily instruction, there is a liberal choice of books of entertainment and inspiration worthily to buttress and relieve the formal lessons. The whole work goes forward with intent to cultivate the taste, to widen the horizons, to elevate the impulses of the young reader. Mr. Green's methods, with the modifications needful in transplanting, have been adopted far and wide throughout the Union. Already they have borne fruit in heightening the standards of free choice when readers have passed from the school bench to the work-a-day world.

Thus thoughtfully to lay the foundation of the reading habit is a task beyond praise; upon a basis so sound it falls to our lot to rear, if we can, a worthy and durable superstructure. It is time that we passed from books for boys and girls to books for the youth, the man and the woman. And how amid the volume and variety of the accumulated literature of the ages shall we proceed? For light and comfort let us go back a little in the history of education, we shall there find a method substantially that of our friend, Mr. Green. Long before there were any free libraries at all, we had in America a small band of readers and learners who enjoyed unfailing pilotage in the sea of literature. These readers and learners were in the colleges, where the teachers from examination and comparison in the study, the class-room and the laboratory were able to say that such an author was the best in his field, that such another had useful chapters, and that a third was unreliable or superseded. While literature has been growing from much to more, this bench of judicature has been so enlarged as to keep steadily abreast of it. At Harvard there are twenty-six sub-libraries of astronomy, zoology, political economy, and so on; at hand are the teachers who can tell how the books may be used with most profit. Of the best critics of books in America the larger part are to be found at Harvard, at its sister universities and colleges, at the technological institutes and art schools of our great cities. We see their signed reviews in such periodicals as the Political Science Quarterly and the Physical Review; or unsigned in journals of the stamp of the Nation. Fortunately, we can call upon reinforcements of this vanguard of criticism. It would be difficult to name a branch of learning, an art, a science, an exploration, from folk-lore to forestry, from psychical research to geological surveys, whose votaries are not to-day banded to promote the cause they have at heart. These organizations include not only the foremost teachers in the Union, but also their peers, outside the teaching profession, of equal authority in bringing literature to the balances. And the point for us is that these societies, through their publications and discussions, enable these laymen to be known for what they are. Because the American Historical Association is thus comprehensive, its membership has opened the door for an initial task of appraisal, important in itself and significant for the future.

Drawing his two score contributors almost wholly from that Association, Mr. J. N. Larned, of Buffalo, an honored leader of ours, has, without fee or reward, acted as chief editor of an annotated Bibliography of American History. The work is now passing through the composing room of Houghton, Mifflin & Co., of Boston; its contributors include professors of history at Bowdoin, Bryn Mawr, Columbia, Harvard, McGill, Toronto, Tulane and Yale, as well as the Universities of Michigan, Wisconsin and Chicago; our own Association is worthily represented by Messrs. James Bain, Clarence S. Brigham, V. L. Collins, W. E. Foster, J. K. Hosmer, E. C. Richardson and R. G. Thwaites. As a rule the notes are signed. Where for any reason a book demanding notice could not be allotted to a contributor, Mr. Larned has quoted the fairest review he could find in print. He has included not only good books, but such other works as have found an acceptance they do not deserve. All told his pages will offer us about 3400 titles; a syllabus of the sources of American history is prefixed by Mr. Paul Leicester Ford; as an appendix will appear a feature also of great value. In their "Guide to American history," published in 1896, Professors Channing and Hart, of Harvard University, recommended such collections of books as may be had for $5, $10, $20, $50 or $100. Professor Channing is kind enough to say that he will revise these lists and bring them down to date as a contribution to Mr. Larned's work. Professor Channing may, we trust, name the books in each collection in the order in which they may be most gainfully read.

In times past our bibliographies have begun to need enlargement the moment they left the bindery; in the present case that need is for the first time to be supplied. Mr. Larned's titles come to the close of 1899; beyond that period current literature is to be chosen from and appraised with the editorship of Philip P. Wells, librarian of the Yale Law Library, who will issue his series in card form. We hope that he may be ready with his cards for 1900 at the time that Mr. Larned's book appears. Thereafter Mr. Wells' series will probably be published quarter by quarter. Beginning with 1897, Mr. W. Dawson Johnston, now of the Library of Congress, has edited for us a series of annotated cards dealing with the contemporary literature of English history. Both the form and substance of his series are capital. In so far as his cards go directly into catalog cases, where readers and students must of necessity see them, they render the utmost possible aid. If subscribers in sufficient array come forward, Mr. Larned's book may be remolded for issue in similar card form, with a like opportunity for service in catalog cases. In the Cleveland Public Library and its branches useful notes are pasted within the lids of a good many volumes. It is well thus to put immediately under the reader's eye the word which points him directly to his goal, or prevents him wasting time in wanderings of little value or no value at all.

With Mr. Larned's achievement a new chapter is opened in American librarianship; he breaks a path which should be followed up with a discernment and patience emulous of his example. If the whole working round of our literature were sifted and labelled after his method, the worth of that literature, because clearly brought into evidence, might well be doubled at least. Every increase in the availability of our books, every removal of fences, every setting-up of guide-posts, has had a heartening public response. So it will be if we proceed with this effort to bring together the seekers and the knowers, to obtain the best available judgments for the behoof of readers and students everywhere. Economics and politics, so closely interwoven with American history, might well afford the second field for appraisal. A good many libraries still find aid in the "Reader's guide" in this department, although it appeared as long ago as 1891. Next might follow the literature of the sciences pure and applied, together with the useful arts. Among useful arts those of the household might well have the lead, for we must not be academic, or ever lose sight of the duties nearest at hand to the great body of the plain people. Mr. Sturgis and Mr. Krehbiel, in 1897, did an excellent piece of work for us in their "Bibliography of the fine arts"; their guide might profitably be revised and enlarged in its several divisions, not omitting the introductory paragraphs which make the book unique in its class. These tasks well in hand, we might come to such accessions of strength and insight as to nerve us for labors of wider range and greater difficulty, where personal equations may baffle even the highest court of appeal, where it is opinion rather than fact that is brought to the scales. I refer to the debatable ground of ethics, philosophy and theology; and, at the other pole of letters, to the vast stretches of fiction and belles lettres in our own and foreign tongues. With regard to fiction and belles lettres, one of Mr. Larned's methods has a hint for us. In some cases he has found it best to quote Mr. Francis Parkman, Mr. Justin Winsor, or the pages of the Nation, the Dial, the American Historical Review, and similar trustworthy sources. With respect to novels and romances, essays and literary interpretation, it does not seem feasible to engage a special corps of reviewers. It may be a good plan to appoint judicious editors to give us composite photographs of what the critics best worth heeding have said in the responsible press.

It is in the preponderant circulation of fiction, and fiction for the most part of poor quality, that the critics of public libraries find most warrant for attack. They point to the fact that many readers of this fiction are comparatively well-to-do, and are exempted by public taxation from supporting the subscription library and the bookseller. The difficulty has been met chiefly in two ways; by curtailing the supply of mediocre and trashy fiction; by exacting a small fee on issuing the novels brought for a season to a huge demand by advertising of a new address and prodigality. Appraisal, just and thorough, may be expected to render aid more important because radical instead of superficial. In the first place, the best books of recreation, now overlaid by new and inferior writing, can be brought into prominence; secondly, an emphasis, as persuasive as it can be made, ought to be placed upon the more solid stores of our literature. "Business," said Bagehot long ago, "is really more agreeable than pleasure; it interests the whole mind, the aggregate nature of man more continuously and deeply, but it does not look as if it did." Let it be our purpose to reveal what admirable substance underlies appearances not always seductive to the casual glance. Lowell and Matthew Arnold, Huxley and John Fiske, Lecky and Goldwin Smith are solid enough, yet with no lack of wit or humor to relieve their argument and elucidation. A New York publisher of wide experience estimates that the average American family, apart from school purchases, buys less than two books a year. Newspapers and magazines form the staple of the popular literary diet. What fills the newspapers is mainly news; their other departments of information are often extensive and admirable, but within the limits of the hastily penned paragraph or column they cannot rise to the completeness and quality of a book carefully written and faithfully revised. The plain fact is, and it behooves us to reckon with it, the average man, to whom we bear our credentials as missionaries, looks upon a book as having something biblical about it. To sit down deliberately and surrender himself to its chapters is a task he waves away with strangely mingled awe and dislike. So he misses the consecutive instruction, as delightful as profitable to an educated taste, which authors, publishers and librarians are ready and even anxious to impart.

We hear a good deal in these days about the need of recreation, and not a word more than is true, but let us remember that the best recreation may consist in a simple change of work. Behold the arduous toil of the city lawyer, or banker, as on a holiday tour he climbs a peak of the Alps or the Adirondacks, or wades the chilly streams of Scotland or Canada a salmon rod in his hands. Why does he undergo fatigues so severe? Partly because they are freely chosen, partly because they are fatigues of an unwonted and therefore refreshing kind. So in the field before us to-day. Truth is not only stranger than fiction, it is more fascinating when once its charms are recognized and entertained. Our public schools throughout the land prove that a true story of exploration, of invention or discovery, of heroism or adventure, has only to be well told to rivet a boy's attention as firmly as ever did Robinson Crusoe or Treasure Island. When readers take up from instinctive appetite, or wise incitement, the best books about flowers or birds, minerals or trees, an art, a science, a research, they come to joys in new knowledge, in judgments informed and corrected, unknown to the tipplers and topers whose staple is the novel, good, bad and indifferent. And why, if we can help it, should public money ever be spent for aught but the public good?

With a new sense of what is implied in the trusteeship of literature, if we endeavor in the future to ally ourselves with the worthiest critics of books, we must bid good-bye to the temporary expedients which have cramped and burdened our initial labors. The work of the appraisal of literature requires a home, a Central Bureau, with a permanent and adequately paid staff of editors and assistants. The training of such a staff has already begun; in addition to the experience acquired by those enlisted in our present bibliographical tasks, instruction is now given in advanced bibliography at the New York State Library School at Albany, and doubtless also at other library schools. And at the Central Bureau, which we are bold enough to figure to ourselves, much more should be done than to bring books to the balances. At such a home, in New York, Washington, or elsewhere, every other task should proceed which aims at furthering the good that literature can do all the people. There might be conducted the co-operative cataloging now fast taking form; there should be extended the series of useful tracts begun by that of Dr. G. E. Wire on "How to start a library," by Mr. F. A. Hutchins on "Travelling libraries." At such a center should be exhibited everything to inform the founder of a public library; everything to direct the legislator who would create a library commission on the soundest lines or recast library laws in the light of national experience; there, moreover, should be gathered everything to arouse and instruct the librarian who would bring his methods to the highest plane. Thence, too, should go forth the speakers and organizers intent upon awakening torpid communities to a sense of what they miss so long as they stand outside our ranks, or lag at the rear of our movement. In the fulness of time such a bureau might copy the Franklin Society, of Paris, and call into existence a needed book, to find within this Association a sale which, though small, would be adequate, because free from the advertising taxes of ordinary publishing. To found and endow such a bureau would undoubtedly cost a great deal, and where is the money to come from? We may, I think, expect it from the sources which have given us thousands of public libraries, great and small. Here is an opportunity for our friends, whether their surpluses be large or little. When a gift can be accompanied by personal aid and counsel, it comes enriched. It is much when a goodly gift provides a city with a library, it would be yet more if the donation were to establish and maintain an agency to lift libraries everywhere to the highest efficiency possible, to give literature for the first time its fullest acceptance, its utmost fruitage.

In a retrospective glance at nineteenth century science, Professor Haeckel has said that the hundred years before us are not likely to witness such victories as those which have signalized the era just at an end. Assume for a moment that his forecast is sound, and that it applies beyond the immediate bounds of science, what does it mean for librarianship? It simply reinforces what in any case is clear, namely, that it is high time that the truth and beauty of literature known to the few made its way to all the people, for their enlightenment, consolation and delight. If the future battles of science are to be waged less strenuously than of yore, if scholarship has measurably exhausted its richest mines, let us give the broadest diffusion to the fruits of their triumphs past. In thus diffusing the leaven of culture the public library should take a leading, not a subordinate part. Its treasure is vaster and more precious than ever before. The world's literature grows much like the world's stock of gold, every year's winning is added to the mass already heaped together at the year's first day. In the instruction, entertainment and inspiration of every man and woman there is a three-fold ministry, that of art, of science, and of letters. Because letters bring to public appreciation, to popular sympathy, both art and science, and this in addition to their own priceless argosies, may we not say that of art, science and letters, the greatest of these is letters?

THE TRUSTEESHIP OF LITERATURE—II.

By Richard T. Ely, Director School of Economics, University of Wisconsin.

It is my purpose to speak plainly and, if possible, forcibly, concerning what seems to me a grave menace to the progress of science, but in all that I shall say, I would have it understood that I have only the friendliest feelings personally for the gentleman who has brought forward what seem to me dangerous proposals. I appreciate his zeal for progress and his self-sacrificing efforts for human advancement in various directions, but I think that in this particular case—namely, the evaluation of literature, or the establishment of a judicature of letters, my friend is working against his own ideals.

I admit freely that the readers in our public libraries very generally need help in the selection of books, and that great assistance may be rendered them by judicious advice. Much time is wasted by those who read scientific and serious works which do not present the results of recent investigations: furthermore, as another consequence effort is misdirected and instead of producing beneficial results may do positive damage. The question may be asked: "Shall I read Adam Smith's 'Wealth of nations?' I hear it mentioned as one of the great works in the world's history." Probably many a librarian has had this precise question asked him. In giving an affirmative answer it will be most helpful to offer a few words explaining the circumstances under which it appeared one hundred and twenty-five years ago, and its relation to the subsequent development of economic schools and tendencies. Doubtless this work is frequently perused as if it were fresh from the press and were to be judged as a work appearing in 1901.

I further admit the harm which has come to individuals from the study of the so-called "crank" literature in economics and sociology, as well as in other branches of learning. Doubtless many a man is working vigorously in a wrong way and attempting to force society into false channels who might be doing a good work had his reading been well directed in a formative period.

But the magnitude of the interests involved in the proposal which greets us requires caution and conservatism in action. We must take a long, not a short, view of the matter, inquiring into remote and permanent results.