In reply to the question proposed to me by your Association, "Is the public library helping the boy to become a useful man?" I reply emphatically in the affirmative. Of course, the degree of helpfulness must depend largely upon the library, and still more upon the character of the boy. To one of low tastes, with no ambition beyond the hour's indulgence, the finest library will have little meaning; but to one having a thirst for knowledge, and aspirations for self-improvement, access to any fairly well chosen collection of books cannot but prove of inestimable service in stimulating and developing his nobler qualities. My own early experience convinces me of this. In my recollections of a backwoods boyhood ("My Own Story," pages 44-46) I have told something of my indebtedness of a small subscription library, in which were found the works of a few great writers, among those Byron, Shakespeare, Plutarch, Cooper, and Scott, and a History of England, which was the first book I turned to after reading "Ivanhoe." The world was transformed for me by the poets and romancers that smiled on me from those obscure shelves. I repeat here what I once wrote of that golden opportunity of my boyhood. The town has a vastly more attractive and comprehensive library today; but the value of such an institution depends, after all, upon what we ourselves bring to it. The few books that nourish vitally the eager mind are better than richly furnished alcoves amid which we browse languidly and loiter with indifference. This is true alike of the boy and the man.
JOHN TOWNSEND TROWBRIDGE.
Toledo, Ohio,
May 14, 1913.
You ask, "Is the public library a factor in the recent development of a public conscience?"
I suppose that by the term public conscience you mean that undoubted quickening of the public sense, shall we say public decency?—which America has felt in the last ten years, though as yet it has undertaken no fundamental reforms, and is too apt to degenerate into a mere hue and cry after some individual whom it would make a scape-goat for the sins of the people.
Now, in the development of this feeling, or of this public conscience, it is doubtful whether the public library has been much of a factor. It depends altogether upon the librarian. There are a few instances, no doubt, in which the public library has had this effect, and there are many librarians in the country who, as wise and intelligent men like yourself, are interested in vital subjects, and therefore able to interest others in them. By a judicious exposure of books these subjects are made so inviting and so attractive that the patrons of the library are led on and on in an ever widening exploration of the subject. The library does offer to any one who wishes to make inquiry the opportunity of gratifying his desires, and in this way it no doubt exercises a considerable influence. There is a profound and tremendous influence, silent and indirect, from its mere existence, its mere presence, which must do good in a city, just as in a home in which there are many books, even though they were never read, there is the atmosphere of culture. The librarian, however, should be a sort of teacher, helping the public mind, assisting in the development of the public conscience, for I fear that the public, if left to themselves, would rather read the six best sellers, and in the realm of general ideas engage, to recall a phrase of Henry James "in the exercise of skipping."
Yours sincerely,
BRAND WHITLOCK.