It has been tacitly assumed that the selection is made by one person. As a matter of fact, however, the final approval is generally given by a book committee of some kind, usually a committee of the library trustees or persons responsible to them, often with the help of outside advisers. The weight of the librarian's views with this body will depend on various circumstances. Sometimes he has his own way; sometimes his wishes are practically disregarded. Moreover, the composition of such a body varies so that any continuous policy is difficult for it.
Owing to all these facts, it is probable that no two libraries in the United States, even when they are closely related by classification, as when both are branch libraries for circulation, state libraries, public reference libraries, or university libraries, are pursuing exactly the same policy in book purchase, although, as has been said, their various policies are always compounded of different proportions of these two factors,—regard for the wishes and demands of their users, and consideration of what is right and proper for those users, from whatever standpoint. The stickler for uniformity will lament this diversity, but it is probably a good thing. In many libraries, there are as many minds as there are men, and it cannot be and ought not to be otherwise.
Now, how does the person, or the body, that is responsible for the selection of books for a library ascertain the facts on which, as has been said, the selection must be based? It is usually not difficult to find out what the public wants. Its demands almost overwhelm the assistant at the desk. Some libraries provide special blank forms on which these requests may be noted. They are often capricious; sometimes they do not represent the dominant public wish. The voice of one insistent person asking for his book day after day may impress itself on the mind more forcibly than the many diffident murmurs of a considerable number. In libraries that possess a system of branches, there is little difficulty in recognizing a general public demand. Such a demand will be reported from a large number of branch libraries at once, in which case the chances of mistake will be small. In the New York Public Library many useful suggestions are gained through the operation of the inter-branch loan system, whereby a user of one branch may send for a book contained in any other branch. Books so asked for are reported at the central headquarters, and if they are not in the library at all, the request is regarded as a suggestion for purchase. Should such requests come from users of several branches at once, the desired book is very likely to be purchased. Often the demand is general rather than specific, as for "a book about the Caucasus" or for "more works on surveying," and sometimes they are vague or misleading, titles being wrong and authors' names spelled phonetically; yet the work made necessary in looking up these demands is more than repaid by the knowledge that it may result in making the library of more value to the public.
In some cases the librarian desires not only to respond to the public want, but even to anticipate it. He does not wait to see whether a new book on Japan will be in demand, because he is sure that such will be the case. He does not hesitate to order a new book by Kipling or Mrs. Humphry Ward as soon as he sees its title in the publisher's announcements. The necessity for some other anticipatory orders may be less evident, and this kind of work requires good judgment and discrimination; but in general if a book is to be purchased on publication, it cannot be on the library shelves too soon after the date of issue. In any case, where it is desirable and proper to please the public, double pleasure can be given by promptness; hence the importance of being a little before, rather than a little behind, the popular desire.
All this calls for little but quick and discriminating observation,—the ability to feel and read the public pulse in matters literary. It is in regard to the second and more important factor that failure waits most insistently on the librarian. What are the public's needs, as distinguished from its desires? What ought it to read? Here steps in the "categorical imperative" with a vengeance. The librarian, when he thinks of his duty along this line, begins to shudder as he realizes his responsibility as an educator, as a mentor, as a trainer of literary taste. Probably in some instances he takes himself too seriously. But, no matter how lightly he may bear these responsibilities, every selector of books for a public library realizes that he must give some consideration to this question. In the first place, there are general needs; there are certain standard books that must be on the shelves of every well-ordered library, no matter whether they are read or not. It is his business to provide and recommend them. What are these standards? No two lists are alike. They start together: "the Bible and Shakespeare"—and then off they go in divergent paths! Secondly, there are special needs dependent on locality or on the race or temperament of the users of a particular library. The determination of these needs in itself is a task of no small magnitude; their legitimate satisfaction is sometimes difficult in the extreme. To take a concrete instance, the librarian may discover that there is in his vicinity a little knot of people who meet occasionally to talk over current questions, not formally, but half by accident. They would be benefited, and would be greatly interested, in the right sort of books on economics, but they have scarcely heard that there is such a subject. That the public library might be interested in them and might aid them would never occur to any of them. The discovery of such people, the determination of just what books they need, and the successful bringing together of man and book—all these are the business of the librarian, and it is a part of his work that cannot be separated from that of book selection.
In much of this work the librarian of a large library must depend to a great extent on others. Both the desires and the needs of those who use his library he must learn from the reports of subordinates and from outside friends. The librarian of a small library can ascertain much personally; but both librarians are largely dependent upon expert opinion in their final selections. After concluding that the library must have an especially full and good collection of books on pottery, the selector must go to some one who knows, to find out what are the best works on this subject. When there is a good list, he must know where to find it, or at least where to go to find out where it is. He must consult all the current publishers' lists as they appear, and scan each catalogue of bargains. His list of books wanted for purchase should far exceed his ability to buy, for then he must, perforce, exercise his judgment and pick out the best. If, after all, the collection of books in his library is not such as to meet the approval of the public, he must bow meekly under the weight of its scorn.
The deluge of books that falls daily from the presses is almost past comprehension. The number of intelligent readers, thanks to the opportunities given by our public libraries, is increasing in due proportion. To select from the stream what is properly fitted to the demands of this rapidly growing host is a task not to be lightly performed. That the authorities of our libraries do not shrink from it is fortunate indeed; that the result is no worse than it is, is a fact on which the reading public must doubtless be congratulated.[Back to Contents]
RARE AND SECOND-HAND BOOKS
By Charles E. Goodspeed.
Books are much more indestructible than is generally supposed. Furniture, clothing, and most of the appurtenances of the house disappear rapidly with time, but books, by the nature of their component material and construction, have a longer life. At least this may be said of books printed before the present era of paper making. Since the invention of printing in the fifteenth century, the product of the myriad presses, principally in Europe, has been enormous, and the output of books in the four hundred odd years of printing defies computation. While many have been destroyed by use, fire, or other agencies, an immense number exists at the present time, and their disposal, made necessary through death or the breaking up of households, is a matter of practical consideration. As it is usually impossible for the owner to find individual customers, the second-hand book-dealer becomes a necessity. The usefulness of the dealer to the community depends upon his honesty, intelligence, and industry; upon his honesty, in giving a fair price to the owner, on his intelligence in finding customers for books apart from general interest, and on his industry in so conducting his business that his stock may not become a mass of ill-assorted rubbish.
The small collection of books in the ordinary household (averaging usually not over a few hundred volumes), contains, it is safe to say, a large percentage of no commercial value. The rest may be valued either for rarity, for the place which they may fill in some collection, or for the intrinsic excellence of the edition. Customers for the rarities are found amongst numerous collectors, and to a more limited extent in the large public libraries. Many individual buyers prefer the sterling editions printed on rag paper by the old masters of the craft to books of modern production, and so create a market for good old editions. Modern editions of standard authors are produced so cheaply, however, that an old edition will bring but a small price unless it has some distinguishing merit.