The Library and Society: Reprints of Papers and Addresses — Story, Setting & Ideas

Here were these sturdy pioneers projecting a public library even before they had got their public roads cut out and put in order. What is called money hardly existed among them; but they knew how to shoot bears and to catch coons and to take their skins, and these skins could be sent to Boston and sold for cash, and the money invested in books. This accordingly was done. The noted politician, Thomas Ewing, then a boy at Ames, gives this account of the affair: "All my accumulated wealth, ten coon-skins, went into the fund," the total amount of which proved to be about $100. "Squire Sam Brown, of Sunday Creek, who was going to Boston, was charged with the purchase. After an absence of many weeks, he brought the books to Capt. Ben Brown's, in a sack on a pack-horse. I was present at the untying of the sack and pouring out of the treasures. There were about 60 volumes, I think, and well selected; the library of the Vatican was nothing to it, and there never was a library better read. This, with occasional additions, furnished me with reading while I remained at home."

That is the stuff of which strong men are made, and strong communities, and mighty nations. And what was done at Marietta, and at Cincinnati, and at Ames, was done in a multitude of other towns all over the north-west. At Vincennes, Indiana, a library was started by similar means in 1807; and one of the founders was Gen. Wm. Henry Harrison, the hero of Tippecanoe and hard cider. That was the first public library established in Indiana.

So, too, in Michigan, far back in its territorial days, similar libraries were formed, especially that of the Young Men's Society of Detroit. But in Michigan, by far the greatest service in this direction has been rendered more recently by the ladies, whose admirable library associations in such towns as Ann Arbor, Flint, and Kalamazoo have done much, especially during the past twenty years, for the literary improvement and enjoyment of the people.

But this third stage of library evolution, good and useful as it has been during the past 150 years, has this defect: it does not offer books freely to all who would like books; it is limited to those who participate in its privileges by paying for them.

Therefore society pushed forward into a fourth stage of evolution--one still nearer to the grand object to be reached--the complete popularization of books. This fourth stage was reached chiefly through a new idea entering into the case, namely, the duty of the state to help in providing books for the people who compose the state. The principle is already admitted that the state must educate its citizens, and for that purpose must sustain schools. For the same purpose, and on the same principle, it must sustain libraries; for these are but an annex to schools, and the books in them are only a part of the necessary apparatus for public education.

In this way was started the fourth plan, that of "district school libraries," a plan which for a while was hailed with delight as a real contribution to human progress and happiness; which was eagerly adopted in this state and in many others; but which has, upon the whole, resulted in failure.

The State of New York has the honor of having started this plan, which was first publicly advocated by Governor De Witt Clinton, in his message for 1826. In 1838 General John A. Dix, then secretary of state, was "charged with the execution of the law giving to the school districts $55,000 a year to buy books for their libraries, and requiring them to raise by taxation an equal amount for same purpose." The system was received throughout the state with enthusiastic favor. In 1841 the school libraries of the state reported the possession of 422,459 volumes; in the following year, 200,000 volumes more; and in 1853 they had reached the enormous number of 1,604,210 volumes.

The plan as advocated in New York soon passed over into Massachusetts, where it was taken up and advocated by Horace Mann, that noble-minded and eloquent champion of popular enlightenment. Through his influence the necessary law was passed in 1837, but the operation of the plan was never very successful in that state, and after twelve years had resulted in the accumulation of only 42,707 volumes.

Michigan appears to have been abreast of Massachusetts in the adoption of the plan of district school libraries, incorporating it into its school law of 1837.

After New York, Massachusetts, and Michigan, the several other states which adopted this plan did so in the following order: Connecticut in 1839; Rhode Island and Iowa in 1840; Indiana in 1841; Maine in 1844; Ohio in 1847; Wisconsin in 1848; Missouri in 1853; California and Oregon in 1854; Illinois in 1855; Kansas and Virginia in 1870; New Jersey in 1871; Kentucky and Minnesota in 1873; and Colorado in 1876.

These data will give you some idea of the wide extension of this fourth stage in library evolution. Its merits are very great. Perhaps its greatest merit is that it recognizes the true function of the public library as a part of the system of public education, and therefore as entitled to a share in public taxation. Moreover, it has undoubtedly done a vast amount of good in placing the means of intellectual improvement within the reach of millions of people of all ages; it has stimulated the love of books and diffused knowledge and happiness. And yet with all these merits, it has been a failure; and this is largely due to just three defects in administration:

1. Lack of care and wisdom in the selection of the books, resulting in the acquisition of many volumes of trash and of profligacy.

2. Lack of care as to the distribution and return of the books, resulting in their rapid dispersion and disappearance.

3. Lack of care in the preservation of the books that were not strayed and stolen, resulting in their rapid deterioration.

You have got to apply business principles to the handling of books, as well as of any other material possessions. Libraries as well as sawmills need to be dealt with according to common-sense and with efficiency. Now upon the general failure of these libraries, let me quote for you a little testimony. The superintendent of schools in New York State, in 1875, says: "The system has not worked well in this state.... The libraries have fallen into disuse, and have become practically valueless." [1 Pub. lib. of U.S., i. 41.]

The superintendent for 1861 says that in "nearly every quarter of the state," the libraries are "almost totally unused and rapidly deteriorating." [2 Pub. Lib. of U.S. i. 40.] For 1862, the superintendent gives a more detailed picture of the condition of the school libraries. He finds them "mainly represented by a motley collection of books, ranging from 'Headley's sacred mountains' to the 'Pirate's own book,' numbering in the aggregate a million and a half of volumes, scattered among the various families, constituting a part of the family library, or serving as toys for children in the nursery; ... crowded into cupboards, thrown into cellars, stowed away in lofts, exposed to the action of water, the sun, and of fire, or more frequently locked away into darkness unrelieved and silence unbroken." [2 Pub. Lib. of U.S. i. 40.]

This graphic picture of the failure of the system in New York is perhaps matched by a similar picture of its failure in Michigan, as drawn by our superintendent of education in 1869:

"The books were distributed to the districts by the town clerk to be returned by the directors every third month for exchange. This would now require more than 60,000 miles' travel per annum, at a positive expense to the directors, certainly, of $100,000, to say nothing of more than 10,000 days' time. This was like putting two locomotives ahead of each other to draw a hand-car. The result was the books were generally hidden away in the clerks' offices, like monks in their cloister, and valueless to the world. And what kind of books were they? Some good ones, doubtless; but generally it was better to sow oats in the dust that covered those books than to give them to the young to read. Every year, soon after the taxes were collected, the state swarmed with pedlers, with all the unsalable books of Eastern houses--the sensational novels of all ages, tales of piracies, murders, and love intrigues--the yellow-covered literature of the world."

Finally, the superintendent for 1873 says: "The whole system seems to have come into general disfavor; and is, more than any other feature of our school system, the one of which we are least proud."

Now we come to the fifth stage in the evolution of libraries--that of libraries fully endowed by private generosity, and thrown open to the public on such conditions as the founders have been pleased to indicate; sometimes called patronymic libraries. Notable specimens of this class of libraries are the Astor, Cooper, and Lenox Libraries, of New York, and the Peabody Library, of Baltimore. The note of this species of library is this: it is for the use of the public entirely without cost to the public. In short, it is a library completely endowed, not only as to the original expense of its erection and equipment, but absolutely for all subsequent expense in its increase and administration. Concerning this species of library, I have this to say: It is a noble use to make of private wealth; it does immense good; but it is not the best final form of library evolution. And for two reasons: first, the man who will completely endow a free public library does not arise in every community; whereas, every community needs a free public library. And, second, the wholesomest kind of a gift is not that which does it all for the community and requires no exertion or sacrifice on their part; but that which gives the community a good generous start, but still leaves something for the community to do for itself. In other words, the healthiest sort of help, whether for one man or for ten thousand, is that help which helps a man to help himself.

And this brings us to the sixth and final form of library development. It is the one which is the resultant of the two grand ideas; primarily, the recognition of the free public library as an essential part of the system of public education and therefore as a legitimate subject for public taxation. This idea is essential to the most satisfactory form of a public library--the public must invest something in it. But this idea can adjust itself to that other noble one--private liberality in aid of the public.

And it is in this final and most consummate form, combining private help with public selfhelp, that many of the most successful libraries in this country have been organized; and yet it is only since 1848 that such libraries have been possible. For it was in 1848 that the first state in our Union, Massachusetts, passed an act authorizing a municipality to tax itself for the support of a free public library. Since then many other states have followed with similar legislation. So that it is only within the past thirty-five years that this grand result has been reached: the systematic popularization of books under the direction of the municipality, partially at least at the public expense, and often in combination with private benefaction.

Now, it is this grand result that you have reached here in West Bay City. The library which you to-day dedicate to the perpetual service of the people, and which we may believe will continue as long as society lasts here to do its serene and beneficient work for the instruction and delight of innumerable generations of mankind--this library represents the latest, and I think we may say the most perfect and the final term in a process of library evolution, which has been going forward on this continent for more than two hundred years, and has involved, as we have seen, countless struggles and failures and sacrifices for the production of this single result.

Ladies and gentlemen, may I venture to express the hope that this study which we have now made of the process--the slow, costly, laborious process--by which this brilliant result has been made possible and easy for you, in West Bay City, is something which will enhance even your pleasure in the acquisition of this noble library as well as your appreciation of the princely act of Mr. Sage in his creative relation to it?

I trust it may enhance also your feeling of responsibility for the perpetual success of this library in the purposes for which it has been formed. This library has been well organized; but the working of it will depend upon you. It is on one side of it a business concern; and like any other business concern it will go to wrack and ruin unless it is conducted on sound business principles, accurate accounting, sharp supervision, punctuality, system, order, promptitude, energy.

But more than ordinary business qualities are needed to make this library all that it should be. Recognize the true function of the free public library; it is a part of a large system of public education. It is but a co-ordinate department of that larger institution for public education--the people's university--including the ward schools and the high schools. Some of the fruitfullest and best work of those schools will be done in this library.

Then, too, the public library stands for the wholesome truth that education is never finished and should not stop when one stops going to school. The boy and the girl who graduate at the school do not desert the library; they keep up and carry forward their intellectual training by a post-graduate course in the public library, for the rest of their lives.

Furthermore, the free public library supplements the work of the free public schools by reaching those whom the schools never reached at all, or only reached very slightly.

And that public library is never a complete success, in which is not present in the officers a spirit of courtesy toward readers, of sympathy, of cheerfulness, of patience, even of helpfulness. Don't permit your library ever to be a dismal, bibliographical cave, in charge of a dragon. Let it always be a bright and winsome place, hospitable to all orderly people; a place where even those ill-informed about books will not be made embarrassed, but encouraged. Let it be one of the most attractive places in town; let it outshine in attractiveness the vulgar and harmful attractions of the bar-room and the gambling den; let it grow up into the best life of the community, a place resorted to by all, loved by all, a blessing to all.

THE LIBRARY AS A FIELD FOR PHILANTHROPY

At a dinner given to Andrew Carnegie by the Authors' League in New York, he said: "They say I am a philanthropist. I am no such foolish fellow." Nevertheless, to the _North American Review_ for December, 1889, he contributed an article, entitled "The Best Fields for Philanthropy," in which he gives the Library first place. It is of course impossible to tell whether the title was his or a suggestion of the editor. The extract printed here is interesting as embodying Mr. Carnegie's gospel of "help by self-help," but also as giving credit to Enoch Pratt of Baltimore as an earlier exponent of it.

Andrew Carnegie was born in Dunfermline, Scotland, Nov. 25, 1835. He was brought by his family to Pittsburgh, Pa. as a boy of 13, and after working as a weaver's assistant and a telegraph messenger boy, became an operator, rose to be head of his division, made money by organizing a sleeping-car company and after the Civil War became an ironmaster, retiring in 1901 as a multi-millionaire. Much of his fortune he gave to build libraries, almost always on the condition that the municipality should assure them a stated support. He died in New York, Aug. 11, 1919.

The reception given to the first paper[1] upon this subject, to which our lamented friend, the late editor and proprietor of this _Review_, was pleased to give the first place in the June number, has been most encouraging to its author, as it would surely have been to the editor had he been spared, for he was most deeply interested in the subject.

[1] "Wealth" by Andrew Carnegie. In the North American Review, June, 1889.

Before entering upon the question which you have proposed, it may be advantageous to restate the positions taken in the former paper, for the benefit of those who may not have read it, or who cannot conveniently refer to it. It was assumed that the present laws of competition, accumulation, and distribution are the best obtainable conditions; that through these the race receives its most valuable fruits; and, therefore, that they should be accepted and upheld. Under these it was held that great wealth must inevitably flow into the hands of the few exceptional managers of men. The question then arose, What should these do with their surplus wealth? and the "Gospel of Wealth" contended that surplus wealth should be considered as a sacred trust, to be administered during the lives of its owners, by them as trustees, for the best good of the community in which and from which it had been acquired.

It was pointed out that there were but three modes of disposing of surplus wealth, and two of these were held to be improper. First, it was held that to leave great fortunes to children did not prove true affection for them or interest in their genuine good, regarded either as individuals or as members of the state; that it was not the welfare of the children, but the pride of the parents, which inspired enormous legacies, and that, looking to the usual results of vast sums conferred upon children, the thoughtful man must be forced to say, if the good of the child only were considered: "I would as soon leave to my son a curse as to leave to him the almighty dollar."

The second mode open to men is to hoard their surplus wealth during life, and leave it at death for public uses. It was pointed out that in many cases these bequests become merely monuments of the testators' folly; that the amount of real good done by posthumous gifts was ridiculously disproportionate to the sums thus left. The recent decision upon Mr. Tilden's will, which is said to have been drawn by the ablest of lawyers, and the partial failure of Mr. Williamson's purposes in regard to the great technical school which that millionaire intended to establish in Philadelphia, are lessons indeed for the rich who only bequeath.

The aim of the first article was thus to lead up to the conclusion that there is but one right mode of using enormous fortunes--namely, that the possessors from time to time during their own lives so administer them as to promote the permanent good of the communities from which they have been gathered. It was held that public sentiment would soon say of one who died possessed of millions of available wealth which he might have administered: "The man who dies thus rich dies disgraced."

The purpose of this article is to present some of the best methods of performing this duty of administering surplus wealth for the good of the people. The first requisite for a really good use of wealth by the millionaire who has accepted the gospel which proclaims him only a trustee of the surplus that comes to him, is to take care that the purpose for which he spends it shall not have a degrading, pauperizing tendency upon its recipients, and that his trust should be so administered as to stimulate the best and most aspiring poor of the community to further efforts for their own improvement. It is not the irreclaimably destitute, shiftless, and worthless that it is truly beneficial or truly benevolent to attempt to reach and improve. For these there exists the refuge provided by the city or the state, where they can be sheltered, fed, clothed, and kept in comfortable existence, and--most important of all--where they can be isolated from the well-doing and industrious poor, who are liable to be demoralized by contact with these unfortunates. One man or woman who succeeds in living comfortably by begging is more dangerous to society, and a greater obstacle to the progress of humanity, than a score of wordy Socialists. The individual administrator of surplus wealth has as his charge the industrious and ambitious; not those who need everything done for them, but those who, being most anxious and able to help themselves, deserve and will be benefited by help from others and the extension of their opportunities at the hands of the philanthropic rich.