Access to Library Shelves.
The matter of free or unrestricted access to the books on the shelves is a vexed question in libraries. Open and unprotected shelves, either in alcoves or the main reading room, while they appear to be a boon to readers, who can thus browse at will through the literary pastures, and turn over volumes at their pleasure, furnish by no means good security for the books. Some of the smaller public libraries protect their books from access by glass doors in front of the shelves, which form also a partial protection against dust. Others again, use wire screen doors, opened, like the others, by lock and key when books are wanted. Both of these arrangements give to readers the advantage of reading the titles on the backs of most of the books in the library, while protecting them from being handled, disarranged, or removed. But they are also open to the objection that they obstruct the prompt service of the books, by just the amount of time it takes to open the doors or screens, and close them again. This trouble and delay may overbalance the supposed advantages. Certainly they must do so in all large libraries, where the frequentation is great, and where every moment's delay in the book service works disadvantage to numerous readers. While private libraries, or quite small public ones, can indulge in the luxury of glass cases, no extensive collection can be managed with the requisite promptitude under their obstructions.
But how to avoid the indiscriminate and usually careless handling of the books on shelves, by the people frequenting the library, and still extend to readers prompt and full service of all the books they wish to consult on any subject, is a problem. In a few of the great libraries, where that modern improvement, the stack system, prevails, the difficulty is solved by the storing of the books in the outside repositories, or iron book-stacks to which readers are not admitted. In this case the reading room is only for books in use by those frequenting it, or is supplied with a selection of reference books simply, the stacks being drawn upon for all the rest. This of course secures the books both from misplacement and from pillage.
In smaller libraries which have no stack system (and this includes by far the greater number) a variety of treatment prevails. Most of them are unprovided with any effective means of guarding the books on the shelves from handling. The result is great insecurity, and inevitable misplacement of books, amounting often to confusion and chaos on the shelves, unless corrected by much daily re-arrangement by the librarian or assistants. This consumes much valuable time, which ought to be devoted to other pressing duties.
One remedy is to guard the shelves by a railing of some kind, which cannot be passed, except at the gates or passage-ways provided for the attendants. This simple provision will protect the orderly arrangement as well as the safety of the library—two objects both of cardinal importance. Absolutely free access to all the shelves means, sooner or later, loss to the library. And the books most certain to be taken or mutilated are those which it is costly, or difficult, or in some cases, impossible to replace. The chances of abstracting engravings from books are much greater in the shadow of the shelves, than in the open reading-room, under the eyes of many. In any library but the smaller ones, the difficulties and dangers of unrestricted handling of all the books by the public will be developed in the direct ratio of the size of the library. Nor will it do to admit one class of readers to the shelves, and exclude others. It often happens that persons claiming to have special literary or scientific objects, and who profess that they cannot get along at all by having books brought to them, are favored in their wish to go to the shelves, while others are disfavored. This raises at once the just complaint that invidious distinctions are made. The only safe rule to follow is that of universal free access, or impartial and uniform exclusion from the shelves. In the latter case, no one can complain, especially when made aware that he can have all the works on a given subject brought to his seat in a brief time, and can work upon them to much greater comfort and advantage, seated where there is good light and ample room, than if standing up in the shadow of the shelves to pursue his researches.
It is also to be considered that such disarrangement of books as inevitably follows free admission to the shelves deprives the very persons who claim this privilege, of finding what they seek, until a complete replacement takes place, throughout the library, and this is necessarily a work of time. That it involves much more time and consequent delay than is occasioned by the re-shelving of books used in a day, is apparent when we consider that in the latter case, only the number of volumes actually withdrawn from shelves by the library attendants have to be replaced, and that these are in conveniently assorted piles all ready to go to their respective shelves; while in the other case, the displacement is made by many hands, most of them careless of any convenience but their own, and moreover, the disarranged books are, or are liable to be, scattered on the wrong shelves, thus throwing the entire library into disorder, requiring great pains, knowledge, and time to repair.
In any well-regulated library, the absence of any book from its place can almost always be accounted for. Thus it is either—1. In the reading room, in use; or 2. Charged out to a borrower; or 3. Sent to the binder for rebinding, or repair; or 4. Reserved for some reader's use; or 5. In temporary use by a cataloguer, or some other library assistant; or 6. Among the books not yet re-shelved from recent use.
Now each of these is a legitimate reason for the absence of any book not found in its place. By search under each of these heads, seriatim, aided by the memory of librarian and assistants, the missing volume should be readily located, and soon availed of for use.
But in the case of books misplaced by readers, no such tracing out of the whereabouts of any volume is effectual, for the reason that the book may have been (and probably is) put on some shelf where it does not belong. And the question, where in an extensive collection, a book-hunter admitted to freely range over all the shelves, and a stranger to the minute classification of books, has misplaced the missing volumes, is an insoluble problem, except by hunting over or handling the entire library.
In this close practical view of the case we have to add to the long list of the enemies of books, formerly enumerated, those who demand a right to browse (as they term it) among the shelves of a public library, and who displace the books they take down to gratify, it may be, only an idle curiosity. Their offence consists, not in being anxious to see the books, but in preventing others from seeing them, by segregating them where neither librarian nor assistants may be able to find them, when called for. The whole question is summed up in the statement that the ability to produce library books when called for, depends strictly upon keeping them in their proper place: and this is quite incompatible with promiscuous handling upon the shelves.
The preservation of order is alike in the interest of the reading public, of the librarian and his assistants, and of the very persons who complain of it as depriving them of library facilities. If library facilities consist in rendering the books in it unfindable, and therefore unavailable to any reader, then the argument for free range of the shelves arrives at a reductio ad absurdum. The true library facilities consist in a classification and a catalogue which arrange the books in systematic order, and keep them there, save when called into use. Thus, and thus only, can those who resort to a public library for actual research, be assured of finding what they want, just when they want it. The time saved to all readers by the sure and steady preservation of an orderly arrangement of the books, is simply incalculable. Multiply the number of volumes out of place by the number of readers who call for them, and you have some idea of the mischief that may be done through the carelessness of a few favored readers, to the whole community of scholars. Of course the considerations here set forth pre-suppose an active and intelligent librarian, and zealous and willing attendants, all ever ready to aid the researches of readers by the most prompt and helpful suggestions, and by dispatch in placing before them what they most need. The one cardinal design of a library—to supply the largest amount of information in the shortest time, is subverted by any disorganizing scheme. If the library be administered on the just principle of "the greatest good to the greatest number," then such individual favoritism should never be allowed.
It may, indeed, be claimed that there is no rule without some valid exceptions; but these exceptions should never be permitted to defeat the cardinal object of the rule—which is to keep every book strictly in its own place. Let the exception be confined to allowing an occasional inspection of the shelves in the company of a library attendant, and there will be no trouble.
But there is another danger, aside from the misplacement of books. Experience has shown that thefts or mutilations of books have been numerous, in direct proportion to the extension of freedom and opportunity to those frequenting the library. Literary men and book-lovers are frequently book-collectors also; and the temptation to take what is often too loosely considered public property is sometimes yielded to by persons whose character and standing may render them the least suspected. In one of the largest lending libraries in this country, the purloining of books had been carried so far, that the authorities had to provide a wire fence all around the reading room, to keep the readers from access to the shelves. The result was soon seen in the reduction of the number of books stolen from 700 volumes to 300 volumes a year.
After several years' experience of the Astor Library in opening its alcoves to readers (amounting to practical free admission to the shelves to all calling themselves special students) the losses and mutilations of books became so serious, that alcove admissions have been greatly curtailed.
At the Conference of Librarians in London, in 1877, the subject of admission or non-admission to the shelves was discussed with the result that opinions were preponderantly adverse to the free range of the library by readers. It was pointed out that libraries are established and maintained at great cost for serious purposes of reading and study, and that these ends are best subserved by systematic service at a common centre—not by letting the readers scatter themselves about the library shelves. To one speaker who held that every one in a free public library had the right to go to the shelves, and choose his books for himself, it was answered that this was equivalent to saying that it is the idler's right to stroll about in every place devoted to a special business, and interrupt that business at his pleasure.
At the International Conference of 1897, an able defence of open shelves was presented, claiming that it saves much librarians' time in finding books, if readers are allowed to find them for themselves; that thefts and mutilations are inconsiderable; that it makes an appeal to the honor of people to respect the books; that the open shelf system does better educational work; that it is economical by requiring fewer library attendants; that it has grown steadily in favor in America, and that it gives the people the same right in the library which is their own, as the individual has in his own.
On the other hand, it was urged that the arguments for open shelves were all arguments for anarchy; that the readers who want to rummage about for what they want lack proper discipline of the mind; that the number of books lost under it has been very large; that librarians are custodians and conservers, as well as dispensers of books; that all books misplaced are practically lost to the library for the time being; that the open shelf system requires far more space, and is more expensive; and that, however desirable, its general adoption is utterly impracticable.
The practice of libraries in this particular of administration differs widely, as do the opinions of librarians regarding it. In most colleges and universities free access is allowed; and in some public free libraries, both east and west, the readers are allowed to handle the books on the shelves. This is comparatively safe in the smaller town libraries, where the books are in compact shape, and the unavoidable misplacement can be corrected daily in no long time. The experience of "open shelves" in such collections has been so favorable that their librarians have testified that the losses were insignificant when compared with the great public convenience resulting. But the difficulty and confusion arising from free handling of the books on shelves increases in the direct ratio of the size of the library, until, in an extensive collection, it reaches an intolerable result.
What is encountered continually in enforcing the rule of exclusion from shelves is the almost universal conceit that some reader is entitled to exemption from such a rule. Explain to him never so courteously that experience has proved that a library is thrown into confusion by such admission; that while he may be careful to replace every book handled in the same spot, nearly all readers are careless, and he will insist that he is the exception, and that he is always careful. That is human nature, the world over—to believe that one can do things better than any one else. But if such importunities prevail, the chances are that books will be misplaced by the very literary expert who has solemnly asserted his infallibility.
On the whole, open shelves may be viewed as an open question. It may be best for small libraries, as to all the books, and for all libraries as to some classes of books. But make it general, and order and arrangement are at an end, while chaos takes the place of cosmos. The real student is better served by the knowledge and aid of the librarian, thus saving his time for study, than he can be by ranging about dark shelves to find, among multitudes of books he does not want, the ones that he actually does want. The business of the librarian, and his highest use, is to bring the resources of the library to the reader. If this takes a hundred or more volumes a day, he is to have them; but to give him the right to throw a library into confusion by "browsing around," is to sacrifice the rights of the public to prompt service, to the whim of one man. Those who think that "browsing" is an education should reflect that it is like any other wandering employment, fatal to fixity of purpose. Like desultory reading of infinite periodicals, it tends rather to dissipate the time and the attention than to inform and strengthen the mind.
In libraries of wide circulation in America, many have open shelves, and many more free access to certain classes of books. The Newark Free Library opens all departments except fiction; others open fiction and current literature only. Some libraries, notably in England, have a "safe-guarded" open-shelf system, by which the public are given free range inside the library, while the librarians take post at the outside railing, to charge books drawn, and check off depredations. This method may be styled "every one his own librarian," and is claimed by its originators to work well.
At the Conference of the American Library Association in 1899, after discussion, votes were taken, showing 50 librarians in favor of free access to shelves for small libraries, as against only 10 for unrestricted access in large libraries.
The debate brought out curious and instructive facts as to losses of books where free range is allowed. The Denver Public Library lost in one year 955 volumes; the Buffalo Public Library 700 books in seventeen months; the Minneapolis, 300 in a year; and the St. Louis Public Library 1,062 volumes in two years, out of "a very limited open shelf collection." One librarian, estimating the loss of books at $1,000 worth in two years, said the library board were perfectly satisfied, and that "unless we lose $2,500 worth of books a year, the open-shelf system pays in its saving of the expenses of attendance." It does not appear to have occurred to them that a public library owes anything to the public morality, nor that a library losing its books by the thousand, to save the cost of proper management, may be holding out a premium to wholesale robbery.
There is another precaution essential to be observed regarding the more costly and rare possessions of the library. Such books should not be placed upon the shelves with the ordinary books of the collection, but provided for in a repository under lock and key. In a large library, where many hundred volumes of books of especial rarity and value are to be found, a separate room should always exist for this class of books. They will properly include (1) Incunabula, or early printed books; (2) Manuscripts, or unique specimens, such as collections of autographs of notable people; (3) Illuminated books, usually written on vellum, or printed in color; (4) Early and rare Americana, or books of American discovery, history, etc., which are scarce and difficult to replace; (5) Any books known to be out of print; and (6) Many costly illustrated works which should be kept apart for only occasional inspection by readers. Where no separate room exists for safe custody of such treasures, they should be provided with a locked book-case or cases, according to their number. When any of these reserved books are called for, they should be supplied to readers under special injunctions of careful handling. Neglect of precaution may at any time be the means of losing to the library a precious volume. It is easy for an unknown reader who calls for such a rare or costly work, to sign his ticket with a false name, and slip the book under his coat when unobserved, and so leave the library unchallenged. But the librarian or assistant who supplies the book, if put on his guard by having to fetch it from a locked repository, should keep the reader under observation, unless well known, until the volume is safely returned. Designing and dishonest persons are ever hovering about public libraries, and some of the most dangerous among them are men who know the value of books.
This class of reserved books should not be given out in circulation, under any circumstances. Not only are they subject to injury by being handled in households where there are children or careless persons, who soil or deface them, but they are exposed to the continual peril of fire, and consequent loss to the library. There are often books among these rarities, which money cannot replace, because no copies can be found when wanted. In the Library of Congress, there is a very salutary safe-guard thrown around the most valuable books in the form of a library regulation which provides that no manuscript whatever, and no printed book of special rarity and value shall be taken out of the library by any person. This restriction of course applies to Members of Congress, as well as to those officials who have the legal right to draw books from the library.
