A "Bibliographie spéciale et chronologique des principaux ouvrages sur l'imprimerie et la bibliologie" by Antoine François Delandine (1756-1820) is printed in his Bibliothèque de Lyons (Paris, 1816). I have not seen Delandine's original list but have used a later and slightly enlarged version. In this, Etienne Psaume has, according to Namur, added a few books printed between 1812 and 1822 and the new title "Appendice de l'Essai sur la bibliologie" (1824). This, is an annotated chronological list of nearly three hundred and fifty books on the history of printing, catalogues of public and private libraries, and bibliographies of miscellaneous scope. This somewhat casual performance is useful at best for a few curious or informative notes. The bibliographies do not amount to many more than a hundred and do not offer either in number or variety a satisfactory survey of bibliography. A selection of good catalogues of private libraries (chiefly French) is the best feature of the "Appendice." The distressingly careless citations show that the compilers did not see some of the books. This list shows some originality and is worth reading, but it deserves no significant place in the history of bibliographies of bibliographies.
Almost a generation passed after the publication of Peignot's Répertoire before anyone tried again to write a bibliography of bibliographies. [Jean] Pie Namur (1804-1867), a librarian ("second bibliothécaire") at the University of Liége, gave a sample of such a work in his Manuel du bibliothécaire in 1834 and published his complete Bibliographie paléographico-diplomatico-bibliologique générale in 1838. Despite its many serious faults this forgotten book deserves some recognition. Namur emphatically disclaimed (I, p. xiv) any dependence on Peignot's Répertoire, which he called a "chaos" that yielded only a few titles. In writing his Manuel he had perceived that there were no adequate bibliographies of paleography, diplomatics, and "bibliologie" and he therefore set about compiling them. In the section of "bibliologie" he recognized only Peignot's Répertoire, Horne's Introduction, and Delandine's or Psaume's list as predecessors. Although he found them unsatisfactory, he would have left his collections unpublished but for the urging of friends, especially Baron de Reiffenberg, librarian of the Royal Library at Brussels (see I, p. xx). The announcement of his plan led L.-A. Constantin, who wrote a short handbook of library science a few years later, to send two hundred slips and to renounce the idea of making a bibliography of bibliographies (I, pp. xxi-xxii).
We can best appreciate the not inconsiderable merits of Namur's Bibliographie by squarely facing its faults. A comprehensive bibliographical account of paleography, diplomatics, the history of printing and the booktrade, bibliography, the history of libraries, and literary and critical journals is too large a task for one man or one book. I confine my comments to a discussion of the fourth section, which deals with bibliography.[140] Here as well as elsewhere Namur's choice of a classified arrangement involves great difficulties in arrangement. Namur's table of contents is inadequate and he provided no subject index. In assigning books to categories Namur fails sadly. He apologizes in a footnote (II, 5, n. 1) for a confused alphabetical list of 198 general bibliographies by saying that he has been unable to see the books and therefore cannot classify them. In this tangled heap lists of books recommended for various kinds of specialized libraries, trade catalogues, critical journals, Giovanni Cinelli (later Giovanni Cinelli Calvoli), Della biblioteca volante (a bibliography of ephemeral publications), G. F. DeBure's Musaeum typographicum (a list of rare books),[141] and general bibliographies lie side by side. Even if he had had to leave a few titles unidentified, he had sufficient bibliographical resources within easy reach to bring order into this confusion. But, he should not be judged on the basis of a list that he confessed himself unable to classify. The following section 3, which should have been numbered 2, is entitled "Bibliographie des livres rares, etc." (II, 12-14). This heading gives the reader no good idea of what to expect. Namur includes here lists of rare books, lists of ana, John Hartley's Catalogus universalis (which is described by its title), and J. B. B. van Praet's catalogues of books printed on vellum. The anomalous items are in all perhaps a dozen of the fifty-two titles in this section. If we disregard the interlopers, which could easily have been put elsewhere, this section is a not altogether unsatisfactory account of a very important variety of eighteenth-century bibliography. Almost all catalogues of rare books can be readily recognized by their titles and a critical account of them—an account which is greatly to be desired—might begin with Namur's list. In section 4, the bibliographies of anonyma and pseudonyma, Namur succeeds better than in section 3. These bibliographies are usually sufficiently identified by their titles and mistakes should not occur. Two black sheep have, however, found a way into the fold (II, 14, Nos. 272, 273). Books like these with the title Bibliotheca anonymiana are sale catalogues and not lists of anonymous writings. The title corresponds to the modern "Library of a Distinguished Collector" and Namur should have recognized it. This error shows the dangers that a bibliographer runs in classifying books without examining them.
Bibliographies of the individual languages and literatures are ordinarily easy to recognize, but Namur makes a few egregious mistakes in classifying them. One example is sufficient. He puts a book on Icelandic literature correctly in the same class with books on Danish and Swedish literature and then enters it once more among American bibliographies. He introduces a further complication by copying "Irlandiae" that a predecessor had misread for "Islandiae" in the title of a second book by the same author and puts it among British biobibliographies. Nor is this enough. He cites the author's name, Hálfdan Einarsson, as both "Hálfdanus Einar" and "Einari, H." and enters the first under "H" and the second under "E" in the index of authors.[142] One can grant that the proper form of entry for Icelandic names is difficult for foreigners, but a bibliographer must learn it or at least adopt a consistent rule of his own making. Although Namur knows directly or indirectly many bibliographies, he has failed to find obvious titles. A librarian at Liége who knows Anton Sander's Flemish biobibliography should also have known his local books of similar character for Bruges and Ghent.[143]
Enough of this! The picture is not all black. Namur's account of dictionaries of anonyma and pseudonyma[144] contains more titles printed before 1838 than any other bibliography. There are some duplications but few outright errors. His important list of books dealing with the history of libraries and including catalogues of institutional libraries[145] is the most useful one that I know. He has ranged so widely as to cite the library catalogues of the American Philosophical Society and the Library Company of Philadelphia and (inaccurately) the Harvard College Library catalogue of 1790. Such titles rarely come to the knowledge of European bibliographers. The following section (II, 167-226, Nos. 721-2573) is an equally full review of catalogues of private libraries. As he says in a footnote at the beginning, he has made a special effort to attain completeness. I can cite no list of trade catalogues and publishers' catalogues comparable to Namur's (I, 171-193, Nos. 1283-1857). I cannot judge competently his list of printer's type facsimiles (I, 144-146, Nos. 673-768), but its extent and the variety of printers named is impressive. His list of national biobibliographical dictionaries (II, 106-122, Nos. 86-390) is far from complete, but I see in the Italian section (II, 108-110, Nos. 129-169) several unusual titles. The subject bibliographies seem less rich to me, but there are one hundred and sixteen bibliographies of medicine (II, 77-83, Nos. 1457-1573) and eight bibliographies of veterinary medicine (II, 84, Nos. 1574-1581). More examples of Namur's diligence would be wearisome and would add nothing to the picture. In spite of vexatious errors of all kinds Namur often names a title not easily found elsewhere.
A development characteristic of nineteenth-century bibliography consists in the publication of collectanea at more or less regular intervals in appropriate journals. These collectanea may be lists of recently published books and articles, books received, or brief critical accounts of current publications. Since they do not intend to be comprehensive, we need not examine at length those including bibliographies. A. G. S. Josephson mentions perhaps a score of such periodical bibliographies of bibliographies.[146] Perhaps the earliest and most influential publications of this sort were those in the Anzeiger für Literatur der Bibliothekswissenschaft (1840-1846), which was continued until 1886 by the Neuer Anzeiger für Bibliographie und Bibliothekswissenschaft. The editor, Julius Petzholdt, used these lists of current bibliographical publications, bibliographies of particular subjects, and critical comments on antiquarian catalogues in the making of his Bibliotheca bibliographica, but those published after 1866, when the Bibliotheca appeared, are not very well-known. Various other journals devoted to bibliography, bibliophily, library science, criticism, and the interests of publishers and dealers printed similar collectanea. For example, a very full and carefully compiled list of current bibliographical publications may be found in the Centralblatt für Bibliothekswesen, which was founded in 1884. These numerous lists are convenient collections of useful materials, but I am not sure that the makers of bibliographies of bibliographies have, with the exception of Petzholdt, made full use of them. With the rise of annual bibliographies of bibliographies[147] that aim at comprehensiveness their importance has somewhat declined. I have mentioned these collectanea because they represent a new development and are to some extent the foundation of the book next to be discussed.
After the lapse of nearly three generations the Bibliotheca bibliographica (1866) by Julius Petzholdt (1812-1891) is still a standard bibliography of bibliographies. Its position will doubtless remain unchallenged. More recent works—notably Theodore Besterman, A World Bibliography of Bibliographies—contain more titles and naturally include those published after 1866, but Petzholdt's critical comments and careful collations are still indispensable. The Bibliotheca bibliographica deserves its reputation for its great merits. It also owes this reputation to some extent to Petzholdt's position as head of the famous library at Dresden with a long and honorable bibliographical tradition,[148] his editorship of a successful journal of library science, his standing as the author of professional handbooks, and, last but not least, his vigorous condemnation of other bibliographies. Petzholdt's self-assurance now and again arouses resistance, and leads one to judge him as severely as he judged others, but the Bibliotheca bibliographica will remain a landmark in bibliographical history.
Petzholdt's Bibliotheca bibliographica is noteworthy for its extent, its careful organization, its detailed collations, and its useful critical comments. We must nevertheless admit some qualification of all these merits. In extent, Petzholdt falls short of his predecessor Pie Namur. Namur had in 1838 cited 10,236 titles. Many of these did not, to be sure, fall within the limits set by Petzholdt for his work. A generation later Petzholdt cited only an estimated 5500 titles (I take the figure from Besterman). He achieved this figure by excluding many old bibliographies (chiefly works of the seventeenth century), disregarding bibliographies published as journal articles, and including antiquarian catalogues and a few catalogues of private libraries. Although completeness is desirable, it is also unattainable. A comparison in terms of numbers is not very important.
In the matter of organization the Bibliotheca bibliographica has long been regarded as a model. Nevertheless one cannot defend Petzholdt's inclusion[149] of a detailed list of schemes for classifying books. He had collected a great deal of information about such schemes because they interested him as a librarian, but the subject is not pertinent to a bibliography of bibliographies. Petzholdt's relegation of the alphabetical index of authors to a clerk or, if he did have a clerk, to as inaccurate a clerk as he chose, was unfortunate. His decision to provide no alphabetical index of subjects makes the Bibliotheca bibliographica hard to use. His exclusion of articles in journals denies the purpose and spirit of bibliography. If bibliographical collections are to guide seekers after knowledge to information, then a bibliographer cannot justify the deliberate neglect of materials which do not happen to be in a particular physical condition. The best bibliography of the Tuamotus may be, let us say, in a journal article. The bibliographer who is aware of it and omits it merely because it is a journal article is guilty of a serious fault. We can pardon him for not finding it, but we cannot pardon him for rejecting it. We must not confuse the situation by making such an excuse as "avoiding the burden of inconsequential references." Petzholdt deliberately omitted journal articles and therefore does not serve the man who comes to his book as fully as he might have served him. Petzholdt's inclusion of books dealing with the invention, history, and practice of printing stretches the definition of his purpose, but custom is on his side and we shall not protest unduly. Lists of books issued by a famous publisher are of course within the scope of the Bibliotheca bibliographica.
A serious criticism of Petzholdt's plan concerns the inclusion of bibliographies, which (although pertinent) can be easily found and might have been dealt with briefly. The bibliography of individuals "Personale Literatur," (pp. 156-272) is a branch of bibliography and must therefore be included. Nevertheless, few bibliographies are more easily found than lists of an author's works. The great biobibliographical dictionaries from Conrad Gesner's Bibliotheca universalis of 1545 down to the various editions of the Biographie universelle and the Nouvelle biographie universelle contain this information. Biographies, wherever published, ordinarily contain bibliographies of the books written by the author in question. There are excellent indexes of these biographies. Antoine Teissier had added, in his Catalogus and Auctuarium, some two thousand biographies to Labbé's Bibliotheca bibliothecarum. E. M. Oettinger had just published two editions of the Bibliographie bibliographique universelle,[150] which is still a very convenient and full list of biographies. Any good edition of a classical text is almost certain to contain bibliographical information, and scarcely needs to be cited in a bibliography of bibliographies.[151] He could have written an entirely adequate bibliography of bibliographies of individuals in much less than a hundred and sixteen pages. He might, for example, have omitted the bibliography of R. Salomo b. Abraham b. Adereth (p. 166)—I cite the first name in his list—that is found in a biography of this worthy and the bibliography of Martial (p. 226) that is found in an edition of his works. Such omissions would not have impaired his book and would have substantially reduced its bulk.