careful in their habits than men are now. Look at the books of the great
collectors--Grolier, the Maioli, Selden, De Thou, the Colberts, and the
like. These men read their books; and Grolier and Thomas Maioli
certainly lent them: yet even after all these years, though time and
neglect may have ruined the magnificent bindings--bindings such as few,
if any, modern collectors ever indulge in--the books themselves are
internally spotless. I have myself scores of volumes, many of them three
or four hundred years old, clean and pure as the day they were issued
from the press; they have most certainly been used and read, but used by
men of clean hands and decent habits. In the present day books are so
common and so cheap, and modern readers too frequently so unrefined,
that they get into a vile habit of misusing them, and to such
persons--that is, to the great majority--the books of a public library
cannot be safely trusted except under the very strictest supervision.
The slovenly practice of placing one open book on another, a practice
sternly forbidden in many foreign libraries, may be seen in full swing
both at the Camera and in the Bodleian; and no one seems to be aware how
ruinous it is, or to have the least suspicion that he who knows how to
handle books never treats them so. Treated in a cleanly and decent
manner, there is not the least reason why a book printed on good paper
should not last for twenty centuries or more; treated as they are too
often treated here in Oxford, they will hardly last as many months.
By lending the books as we illegally do, we are perceptibly hastening
the destruction of a library intended by its founder and benefactors to
be a blessing for generations of scholars yet unborn.
2. Books are to be lent, and what is more ought to be sent out of
Oxford, because it is an immense convenience to students at a distance
to have Bodleian treasures close at hand. Not a doubt about it; vastly
convenient. Suppose I am studying Greek sculpture, it would be very
convenient to get all the master-pieces sent from the various galleries
of Europe to London or Oxford. It would not only be a convenience, but a
joy and a delight, to have over the Venus of Melos. Instead of sitting
for hours together, as I used to do, in the Louvre, it would be much
more convenient to go down to the New Schools and gaze on that glorious
and divine being. Does any one suddenly scent an absurdity in the
supposition? Why so do I, but the absurdity is in the whole argument,
not in the particular application of it. Some people who have not a gift
for seeing the point of things will ride off by saying that the Venus is
a majestic beauty, and that the expense of her carriage and insurance
would be enormous. Such an objection is pointless, because it evades the
question of convenience; but let us take a case where weight will not
oppress us. Say you study Greek gems; would it not be very convenient to
have some of the best from Naples, from Paris, from Rome, and from
Vienna, sent here to the Bodleian, where you could study them at your
leisure? They are more portable than books, far less liable to damage,
and hardly more valuable. Do you think that any guardian of such
treasures would be so foolish as to listen to your request? Would any
nation, city, or even University, permit it?
The cases, it will be said, are not parallel. Gems, coins, medals,
statuettes, are too valuable to be lent; the books and manuscripts which
the Bodleian Curators lend are comparatively valueless. I am by no means
sure of that fact. I have before now tapped at a friend's door, and
receiving no answer entered his room to leave a message or what not, and
have more than once seen lying on his table an eleventh-century Bodleian
manuscript of a certain classic author, a book of inestimable value, the
_codex archetypus_ of every other copy now in existence. Any stranger
could have entered that room, and any enterprising literary thief--a not
uncommon and particularly detestable animal--might have slipped this
priceless book into his pocket. I am by no means sure that very valuable
manuscripts have not been, in spite of remonstrance, lent out within the
last two years; but it is beyond all dispute that not so very long ago
the thing was done, and any man or any body of men who will allow one
such thing to be done are quite capable of allowing a dozen to be done.
Let it, however, be granted, for the purposes of the present argument,
that we now, having a clearer perception of our responsibilities, only
allow comparatively worthless manuscripts to be sent to France, to
Germany, Russia, or India; for our manuscripts, be it observed, travel
as far afield as Bombay. Now what makes a book or manuscript
comparatively worthless? It is so, either because it is one of many
copies, or because it is a poor and faulty copy. If it is one of many,
why in the name of all that is absurd should we be asked to send our
goods away (at our expense and risk let it be remembered) when _ex
hypothesi_ there are many other copies in existence? why cannot the
foreign student go to some one of those copies? why should we be called
on to gratify his laziness or consult his convenience? If the copy be a
poor one, he who asks for the loan of it must be a noodle, for who cares
for the readings of a confessedly inferior book? Is it not clear as day
that the man who at Rome, or Heidelberg, or Bombay, asks for the loan of
a manuscript, believes it to be a good and valuable copy? moreover, if
he believes so, is it not in the highest degree probable that his
judgment is correct, seeing that his attention is in a special manner
concentrated on the matter? And if it be a good and valuable copy, what
becomes of the plea that we only lend comparatively worthless books?
Have we any common sense amongst us? I really confess that there are
times when I come to the conclusion that we have none; for if we had,
how could we be deceived by pretexts so flimsy and fallacious? All the
manuscripts which we now lend are most certainly valuable, and their
loss or damage would be irreparable; all talk of comparative worth or
worthlessness is futile, and is merely used as so much dust thrown in
the eyes of those who (I am sorry to say it, but it must be said) ought
to have a higher conception of their duties.
3. Some maintain that MSS. and books should be lent out because 'more
work' will be done by that device. It is difficult to see why. It is
inferred, in fact, that 'more work' will be done, because it is more
convenient to work at home than it is in a library. A partial answer to
this fallacious plea has been already given, but I cannot pass over the
particular form of it without a protest. The cant that is talked
now-a-days about 'work' is enough to make one sick. As far as my
experience extends, the very notion of work, as opposed to fidgetty
pottering, is not possessed by fifty men in the place; the very
conception of thoroughness and comprehension is gone; and as to
learning, why the thing has almost vanished; of 'science' we have enough
and to spare, but what in the world has become of all our knowledge?
Briefly, at the present moment and in this place, all this wretched
pretence of 'work' is arrant imposture. A few, and only a few, know what
it means, and they would never dream of talking about it.
But I have heard this argument about 'more work' put in another form,
and it obviously is a theme on which endless variations may be composed.
Suppose, it is said, a very poor scholar, anxious to give the world a
critical edition of some book, and further suppose that there is a
valuable manuscript at St. Petersburg, another at Stockholm, another in
Paris, another in Oxford, and so on; let the poor scholar live where you
like, say in Giessen, and suppose him to be totally unable to defray the
expense of a journey to these several places, and to have no means of
paying for collations made by others, and no confidence in their
correctness, even if he could pay for them; would it not be an advantage
to literature that all these manuscripts should be sent to Giessen for
the use of the poor scholar aforesaid; and would it not be a dead loss
to the world of letters, if, by refusing so to lend them, you prevented
the poor scholar from constructing a critical and admirable text of the
author in whom he is interested? This purely hypothetical case I have
heard put in all seriousness, and used as a knock-me-down sort of
argument; yet it must occur to any one with a grain of common sense that
it is only too easy to 'suppose' anything; that it would not require the
imaginative powers of a baby to go one step further, and suppose the
poor, the ardent and the ripe scholar to have just money enough or pluck
enough to carry him to the places which he wishes to visit, (I note
parenthetically that a real student, a man to read of whose exploits
warms one's heart, Cosma de Koeroes, started on his extraordinary
expedition to the East with 100 florins and a walking-stick, for being
what he was, he dispensed with luggage,) or you might suppose brains
enough in his neighbourhood to perceive that so deserving a creature of
the pure imagination might fairly enough be helped or--but it is
needless and foolish to dream with one's eyes open, and practical men
generally object to discuss purely hypothetical cases. Yes, my excellent
but fanciful friend will say, this is all very well, but _if_ there were
such a case, what would you do? Well, to speak for myself, I should
prefer to wait till the poor scholar's exchequer was in a more
flourishing condition, or why should I not take a turn at 'supposing'
myself? and perform the very easy trick of imagining a more ripe
scholar, a more enthusiastic student, endowed not only with brains, but
blessed with means to gratify his whims, and then, without the least
violence, I might suppose the result to be a much more correct, a much
more critical edition than my friend's phantom scholar could ever by any
possibility concoct. But to return to the region of reality; I answer
that not even in the case supposed, or in any case would I lend out
manuscripts, and this for more reasons than I have patience to write
down. One remark may, however, be made. We are constantly requested to
send manuscripts abroad 'for collation,' and we not unfrequently send
them. Will any one be good enough to mention to me a single collation of
a Greek or Latin classic made by any scholar by profession of any
manuscript of fair length--say, if you like, 300 pages of octavo
print--which is faithful, or which can be depended on? Even if it were a
defensible practice to send manuscripts abroad for collation, it can
never be a defensible practice to expose them to all the risks they
necessarily run, and after all reap as a net result collations not worth
the paper they are written on.
I hope that these considerations may satisfy my imaginative friend that
there is not that force in his argument which he supposes; but if he is
still unconvinced, let us agree to consider the case of the poor scholar
when it actually occurs on its merits, and let it be conceded as a thing
not impossible, that should all the supposed conditions exist, we might
for once in a way move Convocation to lend a manuscript for the use of
so singular and so deserving a character; how does that justify us in
sending manuscripts abroad when no such conditions exist? The most I
have ever yet heard pleaded on behalf of these foreign students was, not
that they could not afford to come to Oxford, but merely that it was
much more convenient to have a book sent out to Hungary or Russia, than
it was for the Hungarian or Russian to visit us. I dare say it was more
convenient to him, but it has already been observed that he who wishes
to use public property must and ought to submit to not a few personal
inconveniences. It would, too, be interesting to know whether, supposing
any of us possessed a very valuable book of our own, we should be ready
and willing to lend it as freely as we lend these books which are not
ours. I will answer for myself that I certainly should not, and that it
would be grossly inconsistent in me to lend University property when I
decline under precisely similar circumstances to lend my own.
4. Again, it is argued that since foreign libraries are willing to lend
to us we ought to reciprocate their liberality: we ought, it is said, to
be as liberal as France or Germany are. To the end of time men will be
the dupes of phrases and the slaves of words, yet it is a little strange
that we, who fancy ourselves in some respects raised above the mob,
should see any force in this singular perversion of language. Who does
not detect the hollow and worthless nature of that 'liberality' which
lends, not what is its own, but what is another's? In what possible
sense, except an illusory and fallacious one, can the Bodleian Curators
credit themselves with the virtue of 'liberality' when they hand over,
not their own property, not anything which they collectively set great
store on, not anything which it would grieve them deeply to lose, but
something not their own? Such liberality seems to me to be as cheap as
it is worthless; as easy as it is unreal. But, it will be objected, that
the University empowers them so to lend, and that it would be
'illiberal' in them to accept loans from others and refuse themselves to
lend. As to the powers given by the University, I have already said
something; the rest of the plea may be sufficiently answered by a single
line from Hamlet--
"Neither a borrower nor a lender be."
Sound, wholesome advice to all, whether taken as Polonius intended it,
or as I now use it. It would be mean and shabby to borrow if you refuse
to lend, for it would be conniving at a vice which you decline to
commit. Would it not be more rational to argue that all lending out of
Bodleian books being bad, we therefore decline to benefit (if benefit it
be) by a practice which we disapprove of in principle? To argue simply,
as I have heard some do, that because foreign libraries are willing to
lend us books, _therefore_ we ought to be willing to lend them books,
is, as an argument, about as valid as it would be to say, 'My friend X
has signified his willingness to lend me his banjo, and therefore I am
bound to lend him my Erard's piano, if he asks for it': not every one
would see the force of such reasoning. If the lending of books from such
a library as the Bodleian be, as I maintain it is, bad in principle, it
can never become right because other libraries are willing to be loose
in their practice.
But suppose we look a little more closely into this alleged 'liberality'
of foreign countries, where lending in some form or other is the rule
rather than the exception. And here let it be observed that 'library'
though one word covers things as different as chalk is from cheese.
Libraries differ not merely in quantity, in the number of volumes which
they contain: they also differ enormously in quality and value. The
University Library of Goettingen some forty years ago was estimated to
contain 350,000 volumes. The Grenville Library (now part of the British
Museum) consists in round numbers of 20,000 volumes, each of which cost
on an average _two pounds, fourteen shillings_; and this small but most
choice collection would in the present day probably sell for a sum
almost sufficient to purchase the whole of the Goettingen 350,000
volumes. The Bodleian is equalled and even far surpassed in point of
numbers by other libraries, but for quality and real value there are not
in all the world a dozen that could, or by any competent person would,
be compared with it, and this fact makes all the difference when lending
is in question. You might lend and lose half the books at Goettingen, and
still be able without very much trouble or expense to replace them to
the satisfaction of that University. By losing a single half-dozen of
some of our Bodleian books, you might seriously maim and cripple a large
department; and as to replacing the half-dozen, you might just as well
try to replace the coal in our coal pits. I have seen it stated that all
the great libraries of Europe lend, except the Vatican and the British
Museum: even Mr. Panizzi, forgetting for the moment what he well knew,
says, 'In all libraries on the Continent they lend books, but here
[i.e. at the British Museum] I hope they will never lend them: it is
quite right not to lend them' (Report on British Museum, 1850, p. 230).
And even if all do lend (and all do not), it would no more follow that
they ought to do so, than it follows that no man should do right,
because all men are sinners. Why are we to follow a foreign fashion? Why
are we to follow a multitude to do evil? We are quite strong enough to
act properly, if we only had the infinitesimal amount of courage
needful. Even if it were true that every great library in Europe does a
foolish thing, why should we, with the true spirit of slavish imitation,
be equally foolish?
Amongst the libraries, which may be with more or less justice compared
with the Bodleian, are the National Library of Paris; the British
Museum; the Vatican; the Royal Library of Munich; the Imperial Library
of St. Petersburg; the Imperial Library at Vienna; the Ambrosian at
Milan. Thirty odd years ago only _two_ of these ever lent a book, and
then hardly in the sense in which any one in Oxford would understand
that phrase. At this very moment, the British Museum, the second or
third largest and finest library in the world, does not lend; the
Vatican does not lend; the Ambrosian library, great in printed books,
greater in manuscripts, does not lend; the Escurial, famed for its
Arabic manuscripts, never lends, not even within the limits of Spain;
the Municipal Library of Ravenna, a name well known to all students of
Aristophanes for its famous codex, never lends; nor does the Angelica at
Rome: and there are more libraries of which this is true. Few, however,
would believe till they have tried the experiment, how difficult it is
for a private person to get really trustworthy information as to the
practices of foreign libraries.
Again, all foreign libraries that practise lending lend under
restrictions unknown to us in Oxford. At the Bodleian there are no
written rules at all, and, as far as I know, there never have been any.
The present Librarian rightly felt that such a state of things ought
not to be allowed; he accordingly drew up a draft set of regulations; it
was at his request that the committee mentioned above, p. 26, was
appointed, and but for his sense of duty the board would possibly never
have perceived that rules were requisite. The Italian government
controls some 33 libraries, and the rules for loans fill 83 paragraphs
and 18 pages quarto. Without the special leave of the Minister of
Instruction, no government librarian in Italy can lend manuscripts,
printed books of the 15th century, very rare editions, books with
autographs of celebrated men or with important notes, books printed on
vellum, books with plates of much value, or the chief value of which
consists in the engravings, expensive works, works in many volumes,
coast surveys, maps, atlases, books finely bound or otherwise valuable,
old music. In other words, _no librarian can lend any manuscript
whatever, or any valuable printed book, without special leave_. The
restrictions on loans to foreign countries are also numerous.
The National Library of Paris, the largest in the whole world, also
lends, but never in the wild fashion sanctioned in this place. Here are
the very words of the 'Reglement,' Art. 115: 'Peuvent seuls etre pretes
dans le departement des imprimes, les doubles qui ne font pas partie de
la reserve, pourvu, en outre, qu'il ne s'agisse ni de livres
particulierement precieux, ni de dictionnaires, ni de journaux, ni de
morceaux ou partitions de musique, ni de volumes appartenant a de
grandes collections ou contenant des figures hors texte.
'Ne peuvent pas non plus etre pretes les romans, ni les pieces du
theatre moderne, ni les ouvrages de litterature frivole. Le conservateur
apprecie en premier ressort les circonstances qui permettent ou non de
preter un livre.'
Art. 116: 'Peuvent seuls etre pretes dans le departement des manuscrits,
les volumes qui ne sont pas particulierement precieux par leur rarete,
leur antiquite, les autographes ou les miniatures qu'ils contiennent, ou
par toute autre circonstance dont le conservateur est juge en premier
ressort.'
This library then _never lends anything but duplicates_, and only such
duplicates as are _not_ part of the reserve, i.e. part of the more
valuable section of the library, and not even such duplicates if they
are specially valuable.
The libraries of Germany and Switzerland have rules substantially the
same as those adopted in France and Italy; and it is the same with
Belgium when they lend at all. In the Bibliotheque Royale de Belgique,
Art. 41 of the 'Reglement' runs thus: 'Dans la section des imprimes, les
ouvrages d'un usage journalier, les livres rares, de luxe ou a figures,
les editions du XV^e siecle, les livres sur velin ou sur grand papier,
ceux dont les reliures sont precieuses ou remarquables, les collections
ou parties de collection considerable _ne sont jamais pretes au
dehors_.'
As to the Imperial Library of St. Petersburg, the Director writes under
date Dec. 11, 1886: 'la Bibliotheque Imperiale n'a pas le droit, d'apres
la loi, de preter ses manuscrits aux personnes particulieres, que sur la
demande des autorites competents, et pour les personnes hors des limites
de la Russie, que par l'entremise du ministere des affaires etrangeres
avec l'autorisation de Sa Majeste. En meme temps je crois devoir
ajouter, que les manuscrits les plus precieux ne sortent jamais de la
Bibliotheque, dans aucun cas, de meme que les codes dont s'occupent les
savants du pays.'
It would be impossible to do in any of these foreign countries what is
done in Oxford. Expensive illustrated works are, as I have heard, had
out of the library, and are then used to illustrate lectures--a short
and easy method of bringing books to ruin.
To trust to discretion alone, whether it be the discretion of a
librarian or of a board, is to lean on a broken reed; and in most
foreign libraries that discovery has long since been made: it is high
time that we made it too, if we are foolish enough to sanction the
practice of lending.
When it is said then that _all_ great foreign libraries lend, let it
always be remembered, in the first place, that strictly speaking all do
not lend; and, in the second place, that those which lend restrict the
practice in a way never dreamt of here.
Such then are the arguments for lending: they may be stated in other
terms, and they may be indefinitely varied in shape, but when reduced to
their ultimate forms they simply come to this--that by lending books out
the utility of the library is increased, the convenience of readers is
consulted, the progress of learning is facilitated, and international
courtesy is promoted--all very good things in themselves and much to be
desired, but, as always in this world, we have to balance good with
evil, and to take that course which involves the least inconvenience on
the whole.
I confess that it rather depresses me to have to argue the question at
all, and if the _genius loci_ affected all minds as it affects mine, the
very faintest suspicion of degrading and vulgarising such an institution
as the Bodleian would be enough, and more than enough, to settle the
matter; and surely it is a degradation of that noble library to look on
it, as some seem to do, as a sort of enlarged and diversified Mudie's.
Our books may be all over Oxford, nay, all over Europe; they may be in
Germany, in France, in India, in Russia, in London, at Cambridge, and
heaven only knows where. What is all this but the first step towards
turning the Bodleian into a vast and vulgar circulating library? I must
say again, as I have said elsewhere, that the Bodleian Library is
absolutely unlike any other library in the world; it is in its way
peerless and unique; it was founded and augmented by learned men for
learned men; it was never meant for the motley crew which in the present
day crams the Camera and the Library itself. It is sad to one who can
remember what the Bodleian was even thirty years ago to see such rapid
decline, such manifest tokens of disregard for all that once rendered
the place a sacred spot. But this is to wander from my immediate
business, and what I conceive to be the abuse, I might even say the
gross abuse of the Bodleian, for which the Curators are directly
responsible, must be matter for some other paper.
It seems to be the notion of some people in this University that the
Bodleian Library is a fit place for readers of any and of every kind.
They have not knowledge enough of books or of libraries to see that a
library suitable only to scholars of a high class is not a library
adapted to learners and schoolboys.