The Small Library/Chapter 1
Of all the difficult, hazardous and thankless tasks which well-meaning persons can choose for the improvement of their fellows, perhaps none is so unproductive, in some quarters, as book-selection and the recommendation of reading matter. In ninety cases out of a hundred, persons who read books recommended by others will contemn the judgment and taste of the recommender, and even hint at a certain lack of knowledge and critical perception. As a rule, educated and well-read people should never be assisted in any way in their reading or choice of books, because they are almost sure to resent even well-meant efforts, as an officious intrusion into the sanctity of their own superior knowledge. And, no doubt, it is somewhat of an insult to a thorough-going specialist to have some less-learned bibliographer thrusting forth with his selection of books and annotations, as a kind of last word on the subject. Furthermore, the book-browser, or desultory reader, is another who scorns aids to systematic study, or the scientific formation of libraries, and the field is thus narrowed down for the adventurous spirit who would aspire to guide other people on the highway of books. John Hill Burton, the learned and witty author of The Book-hunter, sums up the case for the specialist and browser with all the force and superior style which distinguishes your true Aberdonian from the common herd. Writing of Bibliographies, he observes: 'I come to another class of bibliographies, of which it is difficult to speak with patience—those which either profess to tell you how to find the best books to consult on every department of learning, or undertake to point out to you the books which you should select for your library, or for your miscellaneous reading. As to those who profess to be universal mentors, at hand to help you with the best tools for your work, in whichever department of intellectual labour it may happen to be, they break down at once. Whoever has set himself to any special line of investigation, cannot open one of those books without discovering its utter worthlessness and incapacity to aid him in his own speciality. As to the other class of bibliographers, who profess to act the guide, philosopher and friend to the collector and the reader, I cannot imagine anything more offensively audacious than the function they assume. It is an attempt of the pedagogue to assert a jurisdiction over grown intellects, and hence such books naturally develop in flagrant exaggeration the pragmatical priggism which is the pedagogue's characteristic defect. I would except from this condemnation a few bibliographers, who, instead of sitting in the schoolmaster's chair and dictating to you what it is proper that you should read, rather give you a sly hint that they are going a-vagabondising through the byways of literature, and will take you with them if you like.' This sweeping and, in its way, perfectly just condemation of selective bibliographies, applies to the class of guide which existed in 1862, when the Book-hunter first appeared, and might with equal propriety be extended to more recent efforts in the same field. But it cannot be held to apply to more than a few of the modern bibliographical guides, because to a very great extent criticism, personal preferences and the 'pragmatical priggism' of the average pedagogue have been eliminated. Instead, we have guides and aids to book-selection which are suggestive rather than aggressively dogmatic, and which are intended for ordinary mortals who make no pretension to book-learning or knowledge of book-classification. Undoubtedly such folks exist now, as they have in all times, who are glad to have a little guidance on any unfamiliar subject, from some one who knows a little more than themselves; and to such people, even an elementary and incomplete bibliography is often of immense service. What Burton's attitude might have been towards such an institution as the National Home Reading Union, it is impossible to say, but one may venture to guess that he would probably have described its work in uncomplimentary terms. Nevertheless, even Burton and those of the same self-possessed and self-sufficient cast of mind, who are inclined to scout the idea of obtaining help from the hints of others, would undoubtedly profit by some of the excellent and carefully compiled bibliographies which have appeared during the past twenty years. No one who has engaged in the work of library formation can afford to neglect the bibliographies and suggestions of other collectors, and he who is called upon to systematically build up a library of literature representative of all subjects, cannot stay and watch that delightfully haphazard assembling of choice treasures, which is the chief pleasure of the private collector or Burtonite. He must, on the contrary, seek out suitable authorities on many subjects, without waiting for them to drop, as bargains, from the clouds, and he must furthermore endeavour to anticipate the needs of the readers for whom the library is being formed. No doubt a leisured stroll through the many avenues of literature is a pleasing pastime, especially when, with dawdlings on the way, it occupies a lifetime; but, when ordinary mortals are clamouring for books of every conceivable kind, your modern library-builder cannot pause to choose with infinite deliberation and care. Personal tastes must be rigidly kept in subordination, and every effort made to select the best to satisfy the sober requirements or hobbies of other people; and for these sufficient reasons, gratitude, and not caustic criticism, must be bestowed on the bibliographers who till the sour and unprofitable fields of literature.
On these lines, this little book aspires to be a guide to those modest people who are not yet cocksure of their literary knowledge and taste, and who are not too proud to consider the suggestions of another book-lover. To such kindred spirits there is a certain measure of pleasurable excitement in running down old favourites in what may be considered a Book-Title Anthology, and even more delight in spotting omissions. There is little charm in absolutely perfect catalogues or anthologies, Your ideal works of this kind ought to have a great function to fulfil as stimulators of the error-hunter and instigators of that kind of research for omissions which gives pleasure to thousands of book-users. It will therefore be a double delight to the author of this book if it succeeds in satisfying, occasionally, the needs of the modest library-builder, while giving the ardent omission-hunter abundant scope for marginal remarks and interleaved annotations. The claims of the small library have been so greatly overshadowed by those of the more showy and, in many respects, more important large library, that comparatively little literature of a useful kind exists relating to book collections in their early stages as select and special private libraries of various kinds. By small library is meant the select general collection of books numbering from 200 to 5,000 volumes, such as may be gathered by students, schools, churches, commercial and industrial organizations, and all agencies in which books are either tools, or a valuable means of affording recreation. As a rule, such collections are formed without much regard to order or care in selection, and, save in the case of private collectors who specialize, the majority of small libraries are frequently a miscellaneous assemblage of odds and ends organized on very primitive methods. The same remarks apply with even greater force to many of the smaller Public Libraries of the country, because in them should be expected order and sound methods, instead of which disproportion, injudicious selection and feeble organization are the most prominent features. If any one is sufficiently curious and patient to study the catalogues of the average small British public or subscription library, he will be surprised at the numerous evidences of bad judgment in book-selection, the lack of proportion between class and class, author and author, subject and subject, and an entire absence of proper classification and intelligence in cataloguing. No attempt is made to keep in touch with modern scientific, artistic, historical, social or literary progress, no doubt because the limited funds available are expended in blindly providing current third-rate fiction or books of the hour. The ambition to place as many books on the shelves in the shortest space of time, is often responsible for the poor quality and unrepresentative character of the literature stocked by the average small library. Instead of purchasing with care and accepting donations with discrimination, such libraries practically swallow everything which comes along, whether in the shape of cheap lots or donations, and the result is a heterogeneous mass of books to which the title of library is wrongly applied.
Philosophers in various ages have informed us that a man may be recognized as regards his idiosyncrasies and habits by the company he keeps, the clothes he wears, the food he eats, and so on; but for the particular purpose of this work it is best that he be measured and judged by the books he stocks. It is very surprising, considering the vast number of books produced, how little real influence literature has on the life and concerns of the ordinary man. If journalistic literature be excluded, it is doubtful if books are used by more than one man in ten as they are intended to be used, namely, as machines or tools designed to simplify the multifarious details of every-day life. Take, for example, the case of the prosperous publican—or more politely, the Licensed Victualler—who is best equipped with the material means required for library formation. His library, as a general rule, is quite childlike and elementary in appearance, and resembles the ordinary nursery library in being composed of unbound journals or literature in pamphlet form. Indeed, the vast majority of private libraries have a more or less strongly marked resemblance to the library of the child in being an unkempt and ragged assemblage of unbound ephemera. So with the licensed victualler. He relies entirely on the daily newspapers for his literary food, with perhaps some more serious matter from a weekly trade journal and a dash of frivolity from the 'Pink 'Un'. But he makes no attempt to equip himself with books which would be of real value to him in the conduct of his business. He does not even acquire the elementary handbooks on the law of his trade, nor has he any particular interest in the books which chronicle its history. Instead of utilizing his commanding position as an associate of all kinds of men, and keeping himself to some extent acquainted with some of their hobbies, easily to be derived from certain useful books, he fritters away his time, money, and energy in cultivating the sportsman, the loafer, and the flash dandy, with never a thought to the influence he might exert if his mind were better furnished with the knowledge to be gained from books. In this respect he resembles hundreds of tradesmen, shopkeepers, and clerks, who do not even take the trouble to make themselves acquainted with the literature bearing on their trades. What is the library of the average suburban home? A Bible, some unbound illustrated magazines, and, as a concession to literary culture, a few yellow-back novels, generally of the sensational or tittle-tattle order. In many cases which have come under observation the clerk dwelling in Suburbia, or anywhere else, does not take the trouble to furnish himself with a manual of book-keeping or business method which would undoubtedly increase his range of knowledge and fit him for a better position, nor does it even occur to him to expend a few shillings on a book which might enable him to cultivate with better success his miserable scrap of a back-garden. Such men will spend pounds in constructing elaborate poultry hutches, and then proceed to devastate their stock, because they prefer the imperfect instructions or hints of friends, as wise as themselves, to the clear and simple directions to be found in any ordinary book on the management of fowls. Or, as is just as likely, they never dream of inquiring if any book on their particular trade or hobby exists. Even the Public Library has not yet eradicated the belief, prevalent in many minds, that books are not written on every conceivable subject. In ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, if the habitual users of Public Libraries are excepted, no man or woman dreams of consulting books for even the most elementary information. It is extraordinary when one considers how ignorant a vast majority of the people are with regard to the valuable information stored in books, and how necessary it is, therefore, that the small library should be forced to become a more potent and influential factor in the daily life of the general public.