Library Essays; Papers Related to the Work of Public Libraries. Arthur E. Bostwick

or municipal regulation. How far shall these be dealt with purely from the library standpoint, and when shall they be turned over to the public authorities? If a small boy yells at the desk-assistant through door or window he is a disturber of the peace; if he throws at her some handy missile, such as a vegetable or a tin can, as occasionally happens in certain sections of unregenerate New York, he is technically committing an assault; shall he be handed over to the police?

      Of course one must not treat trifles too seriously. Yet probably libraries have been somewhat too timid about dealing with petty offences. There is an unwillingness to drag the libraries into the police reports that seems to be a relic of the days when all libraries were haunts of scholarly seclusion.

      The modern public library cannot afford to be considered an “easy mark” by those who wish to indulge in horse play or commit petty misdemeanors, and in some cases it is in danger of getting this reputation.

      When we come to more serious offences, the library’s duty is clearer. Theft, wilful mutilation of books, or grave disorder must of course be punished. In many cases, however, the detection of the first two offences is very difficult. Theft from open shelves is easy. For the thousands of books lost yearly in this way hardly a culprit meets punishment. I have known a professional detective to confess that the open shelf baffled him. “If you will only shut the books up,” he said, “I can find out who takes ’em; but here everybody is taking out books and walking around with them.” When the professional acknowledges himself beaten, what shall the librarian do? Mutilation is even harder to detect. In both these cases the offender has simply to wait his opportunity. Sooner or later there will be a second or two when no assistant is looking, even if the man is under long-standing suspicion, and in that brief time the book is slipped into the pocket or the leaf is torn out. Even when the offender is caught in the act, the magistrate may not hold, or the jury may fail to convict. A persistent mutilator of books in one of our branch libraries escaped punishment last winter because the custodian of the reading-room where he was caught did not wait until the leaf on which he was working was actually severed. The man asserted that the sharp lead pencil that he was using to separate the leaf was merely being employed to mark a place, and thus by confessing to a minor defacement he escaped the penalty of the more serious offence.

      For a library that is thus forced to appeal continually to the law to protect its assistants, its users, and its collections, a manual of library law would be useful, and I am not sure that the appointment of a committee of this Association to take the matter in charge would not be eminently justified.

      It is the misfortune of this paper that it has been obliged to dwell on the darker side of library work. It is hardly necessary to remind an audience of librarians that this is not the prominent side. All users of a library are not delinquents or law-breakers, and the assistants have other and better work than to act as fine-collectors and detectives. The sombre effect of what you have just heard should have been dispelled by a paper on “Rewards and delights of library work,” but this the Program Committee has seen fit to omit, probably because it is not necessary to emphasize the obvious.

HOW LIBRARIANS CHOOSE BOOKS

       Table of Contents

      The form in which this subject is stated removes it from the region of ethics and brings it down to the hard realms of fact I am not to tell you how librarians ought to select books, but how they do select them. I shall assume, however, that you do not care to have this paper filled with instances of abnormal and unprofitable selection, but that you wish to hear of the normal and the unobjectionable. Booksellers tell us that many buyers of books are governed in their choice by the color of the covers, and I have suspected that some librarians are influenced in the same way. Some librarians appear to object to works that are less than one century old; others are on record as discouraging the purchase of fiction less than one year of age. Some librarians have a prejudice against certain classes of books and an inordinate love for others.

      The only things that should be considered by the librarian in buying books for his library are the needs of the community that he serves, the capability of the various books under consideration to satisfy those needs, and the financial ability of the library to secure what is needed.

      I shall take up these points in order. First, the needs of the community. These are not necessarily to be measured by its demands, otherwise the librarian’s labor would be considerably lightened. Unfortunately, when a community needs a given class of books very desperately it is often serenely unconscious of the fact. To the librarian falls the task not only of determining what the need is and of filling it, but also of arousing a wholesome consciousness of it. In this educational work he may be, and often is, aided by the teacher, the clergyman, or even by the users of the library themselves. Hence the importance of getting in touch with all the agencies that may do work along this line. There is nothing that calls for more tact. With the children it is comparatively easy to point out a deficiency, but a direct attempt with a self-respecting adult may end in disaster, and a season or two of well-meant effort may result in weakening the librarian’s influence or even in losing him his position. But one can rarely teach tact to the tactless, and tact is something that every librarian must have, so that this lopping-off process, after all, may simply be regarded as a phase of nature’s elimination of the unfit. One way of ascertaining the proportional demand for various classes of literature in a community, is by examining the class-percentage of circulation. By comparing these with the corresponding volume percentages we may see whether the demands of the community are being met, and by comparison with the percentages of an ideal library we may see whether such demand ought to be met or not. Of course, the ideal is somewhat indefinite. One may accept the suggested proportions in the A.L.A. catalog, or average those of several libraries of high class; or one may construct an ideal of one’s own. In any case, the ideal proportions will evidently vary with conditions of place and time. To show how this test may be applied, consider the percentage of science circulated last year in the New York Public library. This varied from 3 to 28 per cent in the various branches, and was 9 per cent for the whole library. The percentage of science on the shelves similarly varied from 6 to 18 per cent, and was also 9 for the whole library. In our library sociology and philology are included in the science report, and the percentage of these three classes combined in the old A.L.A. catalog is 17. If this is to be taken as the standard, therefore, the library as a whole falls below it, though individual branches approach or even exceed it. As a whole, however, the demand and the supply balance pretty well. There is no doubt, however, that in this and most other libraries the demand in this class is too small and needs stimulation. Of course, this is brought up merely as an instance of how fertile this comparison of percentages is in information, and how valuable in ascertaining whether the demands of a community are supplied, and whether they ought to be supplied, along any given line.

      We will assume that either in the ways indicated, or in some other, the librarian has satisfied himself that he understands what his community needs. How shall he find the books that will satisfy that need, and when they are found (or, still more, when they obtrude themselves on his notice) how shall he know that they are what they claim to be?

      In order to find what he wants, the librarian naturally turns at first to such classed bibliographies as he has at hand, including publishers’ trade lists. Unfortunately, books very rapidly become out of print, and if his bibliography or list is even two or three years old he cannot be sure that his work of selection is not in vain. The value of the A.L.A. catalog has been much impaired by its inclusion of out-of-print books, and as, now that it is several years old, the number of these is increasing daily, its use has become more and more vexatious, both to librarians and publishers. It is to be hoped that in the new edition now preparing the out-of-print books will be omitted. Fortunately we now have at our disposal yearly alphabetical lists of in-print books. Such are the index to the Trade list annual and the United States catalog for American editions, and the Index to the reference catalog of current literature for British books.

      If the needs of your library require that some one class should be largely replenished, you may call in expert knowledge. Some teacher or student who is a specialist in that subject is generally not hard