Wisconsin, a true cradle of freedom and successful government, has
fostered several librarians who were true humanists. Dr. Peckham was
one. Dr. Thwaites was another. Henry E. Legler was unlike either of
these, but greater than either in his continued and unabated activity
for the good of the people.
Once, on being complimented for his splendid work in natural history
and his persistence in the pursuit of scientific facts, Dr. Peckham
remarked: "Oh, yes, but the facts have no value in themselves. They
merely build up the groundwork of the ideas, and help you climb to the
point of view where the deeper aspects of the subject spread out before
you like a landscape beneath a mountain-top."
Mr. Legler's activity in behalf of libraries will support the same
explanation. He seemed always immersed in detail, always planning
some movement and carrying it into effect by his peculiar, dynamic
persistence. But he who observed the man kindly and closely cannot have
failed to have noticed that there was a distinct _Beyond_ illumining
and overshadowing it all. There was a dream to come true, a vision to
be unfolded. The dream and vision were in the man's speech and eye. He
lived under a prophecy.
It is not for us to estimate whether this prophecy became fulfilled
in his life as one of us. But it is our privilege to confess that it
brought to us the things which Europeans have designated as "culture"
and which really is enlightenment. Thus it is that many of Mr. Legler's
associates and friends will recollect with gratitude that some gave
them knowledge, and others gave them opportunities, but it was for Mr.
Legler to illumine their knowledge and opportunity with the live spark
of inspiration.
The dream was in his eye, inspiration was in his speech and manner.
Library work was the means in his power of making his fellow-men ever
more free and happy, ever more master of themselves, ever more capable
of being guided, not by fear and never by prejudice, but by a live
responsibility to the spirit within them. Personally, though a most
assiduous worker at his official desk in Milwaukee, Madison or Chicago,
he always thought of escaping and of seeking some quiet spot in the
wilderness--where, doubtless, he hoped to view his work from _above_.
How many librarians nowadays have such a hope?
Of his method with the men and women of his age many of us will retain
unforgettable memories. He was prompt, precise, perhaps even brief, but
invariably gracious. His Italian ancestry told in the inimitable grace
he unfolded to kindred spirits in confidence. We never were in doubt
of the things he admired and fostered. We never felt there were hidden
recesses of doubt and perplexity behind his sympathies. His grace of
manner never was marred by contact with less enlightened surroundings.
It is inimitable and unforgettable how he would pause in the midst of
some matter of the moment, to plunge into some subject which he knew
would interest and benefit the other person. And how grateful he was to
strike a vein of gold in a seemingly unpromising human ore!
Secretary of the Milwaukee Board of Education, and Secretary of the
Wisconsin Free Library Commission, Mr. Legler was already well versed
in official service when chosen Librarian of the Chicago Public
Library. He had declined several offers of important posts before that
time, because the work he would give called for perfect freedom to work
out the problems as he saw them. Wisconsin had given him this freedom.
Chicago promised it--and kept her promise. There was sufficient
prestige within the Chicago Public Library to warrant respect for, and
liberal support of, its work, but the public estimate of this prestige
was lacking. Other large cities possess this estimate in varying
degree. Chicago--not its library--had fallen behind.
The effect of Mr. Legler's presence in Chicago has been most fortunate
for all concerned. He took his place in public affairs naturally and
effectively. The library's prestige grew in public recognition as the
work of himself and his associates progressed. He gave all--and they
accepted all, naturally and easily. But the giving and taking required
all his bodily strength. He knew that an easier life was possible, but
his humanity could not accept the easier form, and so the strength gave
out.
But the spirit remains. Mr. Legler gave valuable contributions to
historical investigation and to literary criticism, and he has
published notable contributions to the elucidation of American forms
of life. His contributions to library science and the art of books
have been in part collected in the volume herewith presented. The main
purpose in collecting them in the present form is to convey their
purposes to the friends who like to remember the mind out of which
they grew--and to perpetuate to others a memory of that burning zeal,
that aspiring enthusiasm, that radical idealism, which animated Mr.
Legler in choosing the library as the place where true humanism may be
fostered and American enlightenment may flourish.
"Whatever began in the course of time--if of the Spirit of Truth and
Love, it will be in time completed."