The librarian of the older days was a crabbed and positively forbidding guardian of books. Then for a period of years—and there are traces of this time still with us,—the library worker had the attitude of the clerk, so important seemed the details of library service. Now we are approaching the time when the librarian shares in the spirit of the social worker. The one big blessed thing that we all want to do (and we are all assistants to the public) is to get people to love the human messages in books, for "Books are not dead things and do contain a potency of life in them to be as active as that soul whose progeny they were." The only way to do this is to make sure that the person who deals with the public knows books—is fairly radiant with book lore. He should not be a rapt scholar absorbed in his own research, nor on the other hand a spiritless, lifeless, or flippant clerk.
Within a decade there has come a change in the tenor of most library reports, most noticeable within the last five years. The emphasis is now largely on the myriad things that are done for the public which require a knowledge of books and the ability to use them for people. This new library service can only be carried forward by assistants who know both books and people. The library assistant is now rapidly becoming a constructive social worker and has the most potent spiritual forces of all the ages at his command.
But in addition to personality there must be education. This is a primary requisite for an assistant. Nothing can supply the lack of knowledge. Where nothing is, nothing results. It is evident that our libraries are recognizing educated assistants.
Mr. Anderson H. Hopkins in his report to the Board of trustees of the Carnegie library of Pittsburgh, said in 1908:
"Near the beginning of the report appears a statement of the names of members of the staff, in an arrangement showing the positions that they occupy. I have long felt that this is not adequate, although it is in accord with the custom of large public libraries in this country. A number of the members of our staff have not only academic degrees, but also degrees or certificates from professional schools, and I believe it would be a good plan for us to set these forth in our statement, as is commonly done in the calendars of colleges. There can be no question that the work done by the staff compares favorably with that done by any similar professional body and I believe that it would be well to take this step in recognition of the fact."
In the report of the Cleveland public library for 1909 this statement is made:
"An analysis of the preparation of the various members of the staff for their work gives this interesting showing: college graduates, 47; partial college courses, 24; library school graduates, 46."
From the report of the Boston public library for 1909 the following is quoted:
"Three grades of educational qualifications are required. The lowest grade, which includes a comparatively small number of pages, sub-assistants, etc., requires a training equivalent to a grammar school course. The middle grade requires qualifications equivalent to a high school training and familiarity with one foreign language. The third grade, including seventy-seven of these persons, requires qualifications equivalent to those obtained by a college course, and familiarity with two foreign languages. The proper cataloging and classifying of books and the reference work necessary to aid those using the library also requires in many positions much higher qualifications than those which could be obtained by the ordinary college course."
Libraries should secure more assistants with academic training, whose minds have come in contact with the many subjects that reveal the past and interpret the present. We must rely on the colleges for the production of such assistants, that they shall come to us already knowing the sweep of literature on the library shelves, already loving books and knowledge, and filled with their power. Such workers can not help radiating a passion for books. They will make the library a living institution, a center of glowing personality. Of some it can be said: