Essays in Librarianship and Bibliography

by Richard Garnett

The answer to the question whether libraries in general will not, without special precautions, find themselves in the position which the British Museum has so fortunately escaped, depends upon the reply to another question, which we must all answer in the affirmative, or we should not be here: "Is the system of free public libraries going to be a success?" If so, it is evident that the present development of free libraries very imperfectly represents that which they are destined to attain within a century. They cannot be kept at the level of public requirements without being continually supplied with the best and newest literature. It will be useless to expect the community to interest itself for a library full of obsolete treatises or statistics which have ceased to be accurate, or histories not brought down to date, or fiction reflecting the taste of the last generation. Periodicals and newspapers will have continued to prolong themselves automatically; municipal and other local records will have multiplied; and, if the library has really done its work, and compelled recognition as an essential constituent of civilisation, the funds provided for its augmentation will no longer be upon their present restricted footing, and it will have been largely enriched by donations.

Evidently, therefore, the question of space will have become very pressing, and the librarians of the future will have good reason to reproach the short-sightedness of their predecessors if the problem has been left entirely to them. One rough-and-ready method of providing space might indeed be suggested—to sell the old books, and buy new ones with the proceeds; but to say nothing of the invariably unsuccessful financial results of such operations, and the discouragement to students and to donors, I need not point out that a library administered on such principles would be no better than a book club. I am not aware how far any of our free libraries may already be suffering embarrassment in the matter of space, but I can mention a circumstance which may appear significant. We used to hear a great deal about the stores of duplicate books accumulated at the British Museum, and the advantage which would ensue from their distribution among provincial libraries. Well, a few years ago we acted upon the suggestion, and did distribute all that could be spared. When only a few volumes could be given all went smoothly; but when long sets, especially of parliamentary papers, were offered, with a promise of their being kept up, if possible, we met with an unexpected coyness; some libraries declined, others made difficulties; and one, which is entitled to receive continuations regularly, has now postponed taking its due for more than a year. I know not how to account for this, except on the hypothesis of deficient space.

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

the costliness of extending any premises that may be situated in a good quarter, and surrounded by shops, or warehouses, or public buildings. The possibilities of future extension should never be lost sight of when a site for a library is selected. But, as the most desirable site cannot always be had, it is still more important so to plan the library from the first that it may be susceptible of inner development, without trenching upon the adjoining land; and where, in the case of existing libraries, this precaution has been neglected, to lose no time in adapting the library for interior extension, if possible. At the Museum we have at present two methods—the sliding-press, whether suspended or resting on the ground, and the pivot-press. Both these have been described to you. But they by no means exhaust the possibilities of economising space, and I wish to draw your attention to other ingenious methods, which, however, I am not about to describe, for I take this to be the proper business of the inventor. That they must be worth attention you will all agree, when I tell you they are devised by Mr. Virgo. Mr. Virgo, as his name seems to imply, is a gentleman of singular modesty. I do not think that, but for me, he would ever have received the credit due to him for his share in the invention of the sliding-press; nor do I think that he has done nearly enough to bring his ingenious ideas forward for the general good. I hope he will do so, either at this meeting, or ere long in the pages of The Library, or some other suitable medium. I shall not attempt to trespass upon his

ground, but will very briefly make a suggestion for book accommodation in a restricted space, which his ingenious contrivances may have prompted, although to find its exact prototype we must go back to the earliest libraries that have ever existed.

These, as we all know, were the libraries of the kings of Babylon and Assyria. Paper and parchment not having been then invented, literature could only be inscribed on some hard substance. Wood or metal might have been used, but the substances employed by the Assyrians seem to have been almost exclusively stone, clay, or terra cotta. An incised stone slab may be an excellent vehicle for a brief record intended to remain fixed in the same place, but for a chronicle or a liturgy, or a set of astronomical observations, or any other of the staple productions of Babylonian or Assyrian literature it is objectionable in two respects—it is profuse of space, and it is not easily portable. The King of Assyria, like the King of Persia of a later date, had doubtless frequent occasion to send for the chronicles of his kingdom to refresh his memory respecting the treason of some Bigthan or Teresh, or the services of some Mordecai. The Assyrian historians or librarians, therefore, devised the inscription of their literature upon cylinders, usually hexagonal prisms, giving six faces instead of one, and possessing the double advantage of easy portability, and of bringing the largest amount of writing possible into the smallest possible space. The question of portability does not concern us

now (though I may remark incidentally that in very extensive libraries it offers a decisive argument against the card catalogue), but it does appear to me worthy of consideration whether, in endeavouring to make room for our books, we might not occasionally employ the hexagonal form of press, fixed or revolving, and thus revert with advantage to the method which our most primitive predecessors adopted to make room for their writings. The hexagonal prism has the advantage of affording more space practically available within less area than any other geometrical figure. It seems well adapted for use in the central area of large rooms as a supplement to the wall space; for the extension of wall space when presses are run out from the sides towards the centre of the room; and for the storage of valuable books or other objects which it is desirable to keep apart. A case of this description could be partially glazed to allow of the exhibition of a portion of the contents level with the eye; and many other applications might probably be found for the hexagonal book-press or cabinet in libraries constructed with an especial view to its introduction. It may be that such presses or cabinets, admitting as they would of being made of any degree of strength, or of being lined or protected in any manner, and of being wholly or partially glazed or unglazed as desired, would be best of all adapted for the custody of objects of art or archæology—"infinite riches in a little room." Yet, even if so, libraries and museums are so frequently under the same

management that the subject cannot be deemed inappropriate for a congress of librarians.

I will finally mention another method of obtaining increased space for the display of books, MSS., and other exhibited objects. The lower part of ordinary bookcases can be converted into show-cases by placing against them, attached or unattached, light tables with glazed tops, resting on wheels to allow of easy withdrawal when access to the case is required. This would greatly increase the exhibition space in libraries and museums, and might sometimes allow the centre of a fine room to be free from obstruction, and available for lectures and meetings. Applied to ordinary wall cases, it might admit of the display of many objects supposed to be exhibited, but which in reality are not so, being placed too high or too low to be seen.