There are but few left in good condition to-day, but it is great
fun tracking them. In the first place, very few were published by
our Colonial presses. Such venerable gentlemen as Cotton Mather and
Governor Winthrop kept the printers too busily occupied issuing
theological works or acts of provincial assemblies; too seriously
engaged with statutes, laws, almanacs, prayer books, catechisms, and
sermons, to print many books for children. Lost in a theological web
of their own weaving, the leaders of the day cared little about the
intellectual amusement of their girls and boys.
But most of the young book fanciers, lucky enough to obtain the few
books issued, mauled them about or destroyed them entirely. They
are generally found with torn and missing leaves--these charming
atrocities have made many copies quite worthless to the collector. I
have been told that it is but normal for a bouncing bibliophile of
twelve months to teethe on the hard board corners of, for instance, a
copy of _Cinderella_. Indeed, a young child’s attitude toward a book
is not unlike that of a cannibal toward a missionary. Very young
children--this is on record, if you doubt me--have been known to eat
their books, literally devouring their contents.
When I was about seven years old another little boy of the same age
came from a suburb of Philadelphia to spend the day with me. We quickly
struck up a friendship. Although it was raining and we were forced
to remain indoors, we played together quite happily. Everything went
smoothly until late in the afternoon, when our inventive faculties
began to give out. It was then, after we had taken apart most of my
toys, that my little friend’s eyes lighted upon my books. I watched
him cross the room to the low shelf which held them so neatly, and I
remained quiet even as he began to paw them over. But when I saw him
take a pencil from his pocket to write crude letters of the alphabet
along the margins, I flew at him like a wildcat. Only the immediate
intervention of our combined families saved him from annihilation.
We have met many times since, and we always laugh at the story of my
juvenile wrath.
He still insists, after forty years, that his was a perfectly normal
action in a child. I believed in treating a book as something sacred,
even at that age. The germ had evidently entered my system with my
first vaccination!
In 1902 my uncle gave me his wonderful collection of children’s books.
Among them was his “damn rare” pamphlet, _A Legacy for Children, being
Some of the Last Expressions and Dying Sayings of Hannah Hill, Junr. Of
the City of Philadelphia in the Province of Pennsylvania, in America,
Aged Eleven Years and near Three Months_, which was printed by Andrew
Bradford, at the sign of the Bible, in Philadelphia, in 1717. Little
Hannah took several days to die, and she insisted upon having the
undivided attention of every member of her family. She gave them moral
advice, told them what they should do and what they should not do after
she had departed. “The Council which she gave, to her Dear and only
Sister and Cousin Loyd Zachary, whom she dearly loved, was very grave
and pithy....”
To-day I have nearly eight hundred volumes, which date from 1682 to
1840. They reveal with amazing fidelity the change in juvenile reading
matter, the change, too, in the outward character of the American
child. They depict the slow but determined growth from the child of
Puritan New England to that of our own day. It is a delightful change
from _Virtuous William the Obedient Prentice_, and _Patty Primrose_, to
_Tom Sawyer_, _Huck Finn_, _Penrod_, and _Winnie-the-pooh_. If Robert
Louis Stevenson had had the temerity to publish _Treasure Island_ in
the good old days of Governor Winthrop he would have been a fit subject
for the common hangman! I do not mean to imply that the New England boy
of the seventeenth century was the goody-goody thing which his parents
tried to make him. If he was choked with the Bible and threatened
with the catechism and the prayer book, if the creed and Bunyan were
ruthlessly thrust down his innocent young throat, he nevertheless could
think of Captain Kidd, Sir Henry Morgan, the Indians, and the whole
machinery of the boyhood imagination. Free thought was permitted him
because there was no way to suppress it.
The little Puritans! My heart aches for them when I read an example
such as _The Rule of the New-Creature. To be Practiced every day in
all the Particulars of which are Ten_. This is the earliest book in my
collection. It was published in Boston for Mary Avery, who sold books
near the Blue Anchor, 1682. Imagine the weary little child who had to
listen throughout a long Sunday afternoon to the contents of a book
which started off in this manner:--
“Be sensible of thy Original Corruption daily, how it inclines thee to
evil, and indisposeth thee to good; groan under it, and bewail it as
Paul did.... Also take special notice of your actual sins, or daily
infirmities, in Thought, Word, Deed. Endeavor to make your peace with
God for them before you go to bed.”
There is, too, one of the most famous of all juveniles, the equally
inspiriting and nourishing _Spiritual Milk for Boston Babes. In either
England: Drawn out of the breasts of both Testaments for their Souls
nourishment. But may be of like use to any Children. Printed at Boston,
1684_. My copy is the only one known of this date. John Cotton, the
great and influential Puritan minister, had written this many years
before, and it was first published in England in 1646, to settle a
growing dissension among the Puritans, who could not decide which
catechism of the many then in use was best for their children. This
volume grew very popular and from it the little ones learned to die
with much grace, and, therefore, eternal glory. Yet it was found very
difficult to teach the young of New England the proper way to die;
of all knowledge it is the most difficult to impart, as there are no
really good textbooks.
[Illustration:
_Spiritual_
MILK
FOR
_Boston Babes_.
In either _ENGLAND_:
Drawn out of the breasts of both
_TESTAMENTS_ for their
Souls nourishment.
But may be of like use to any
_CHILDREN_.
By _John Cotton_, _B. D._ Late
_Teacher_ to the Church of _Boston_ in
_New England_.
[Illustration]
Printed at BOSTON,
1684.
TITLE PAGE OF “SPIRITUAL MILK FOR BOSTON BABES”]
The ecstasy over the departure of a pure young child is one of the most
remarkable manifestations of the Puritan spirit. No book shows this
more clearly than the Rev. James Janeway’s _A Token for Children, being
an Exact Account of the Conversion, Holy and Exemplary Lives and Joyous
Deaths of several Young Children_. This book passed through edition
after edition in England and her colonies, and was the certain means
of saving many children from hell and damnation. My copy is the only
one extant from Benjamin Franklin’s press, and is dated 1749. Janeway
states in his Preface, which is addressed “to all Parents, School
Masters and School Mistresses or any who have any Hand in the Education
of Children:--
“Remember the Devil is at work hard, wicked Ones are industrious,
and corrupt Nature is a rugged, knotty Piece to hew. But be not
discouraged.”
The author then goes on to relate the wicked bringing into this world
of little children, and dwells lovingly and tenderly upon their wise
and glorious deaths at the age of six or seven or even ten years. An
early death in purity and virtue was a thing to be coveted and desired,
and Janeway requests in his Preface that the teacher should impress
upon the little ones the advisability of imitating the early demise of
these sweet children whose short and devout lives are narrated by him.
Cotton Mather, who wrote a continuation of Janeway, and described the
brilliant, joyous, matchless deaths of New England children--Janeway
described the demise of the children of Old England--died at the age
of sixty-five years, thus prudently neglecting to follow the example
of his beautiful and obedient pupils who passed away, in all holiness,
at the hoary age of six. We shall select a passage from the celebrated
little book, which bears this title:--
_A Token for the Children of New England, or some Examples of Children,
in whom the Fear of God was remarkably budding before they died;
in several parts of New England. Preserved and Published for the
Encouragement of Piety in other children._
The selected passage is as follows:--
Elizabeth Butcher, Daughter of Alvin and Elizabeth Butcher, of Boston,
was born July 14th, 1709. When she was about Two Years and half Old;
as she lay in the Cradle she would ask her self that Question, What is
my corrupt Nature? and would make answer again to herself, It is empty
of Grace, bent unto Sin, and only to Sin, and that continually. She
took great delight in learning her Catechism, and would not willingly
go to Bed without saying some Part of it.
She being a weakly Child, her Mother carried her into the Country for
Health; And when she was about Three Years old, and at Meeting, she
would set with her Eyes fix’d on the Minister, to the Admiration of
all that Sat about her, who said that grown up People might learn and
take Example of her. She took great Delight in reading, and was ready
and willing to receive Instruction.
She was not contented with the bare reading of God’s Word, but would
frequently ask the meaning of it. And when she was at her work, she
would often ask where such and such Places in Scripture were, and
would mention the Words that she might be directed to find them.
It was her Practice to carry her Catechism or some other good Book to
Bed with her, and in the Morning she would be sitting up in her Bed
reading before any of the Family were awake.
Such goodness could not last, and on the thirteenth of June, 1718, poor
little Elizabeth departed this life, “being eight years and just eleven
months old.”
It is related of another child, Daniel Bradley, the son of Nathan and
Hester Bradley of Guilford, Connecticut, that when the said child was
about three years old, “he had one Night an Impression of the Fears of
Death, which put him into Crying; his Mother told him, if he died he
would go to Heaven; unto which he replied, He knew not how he would
like that Place, where he would be acquainted with no body!”
It is curious how you run unexpectedly upon things which you have long
desired. I always wanted a copy of George Fox’s _Instructions for Right
Spelling_, printed by Reinier Jansen, in Philadelphia, in 1702. One day
I stopped at Travers’s Bookshop in Trenton, New Jersey. Now Clayton L.
Travers is a true bookman; he knows the business thoroughly. In fact
he was an old crony of my uncle. I said to him that I had been looking
several years for Fox’s book. When I told him the title, he thought for
a moment, then disappeared to the back of the shop. Two minutes later
he returned with a little volume which was in an old sheep binding, the
title page decorated with an elaborate woodcut border. I opened it and
read the great Friend’s simple description of a comma:--
“Comma,” wrote George Fox, “is a little stop or breathing; as Behold O
Lord.” Please note that he placed no comma after Behold! The discovery
of Fox’s old spelling book was a delight to me, but what made it still
more pleasant was Travers’s generosity in letting me have it for about
one quarter its worth. Collector’s luck!
“They be darned small, but the flavor am delicious,” said an old
Southerner to me of the quail in his part of the country. The same can
also be applied to these children’s books. I suppose many people will
wonder why I, an old bachelor, prefer them? I can only answer with
another question. Why is it that old bachelors also write the best
children’s stories? There is no answer. But, thank heaven, I am not
alone in my crime. Another confirmed bachelor, a dear friend of mine,
is quite as enthusiastic on this youthful theme. Dr. Wilberforce Eames,
of New York, one of the greatest students of books this country ever
had, abets me; especially when he casually informs me of the probable
whereabouts of some rarity that I have been seeking for years.
[Illustration: WILBERFORCE EAMES]
Another bookman, my genial colleague, Mr. Lathrop C. Harper, also
of New York, and a great specialist in Americana, has been as much
interested in these little books as I myself. Instead of selling them
to me, Mr. Harper gives me all the tiny juveniles that he can find. He
has just presented to me a little book published in Boston in 1714,
which contains embedded in a waste of theological discussion for
infants, the following priceless gem:--
“O Children of New England, Poor Hearts; You are going to Hell
indeed: But will it not be a dreadful thing to go to Hell from New
England?”
[Illustration:
THE
GLASS OF WHISKEY.
PHILADELPHIA:
AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION,
No. 146 Chestnut Street.
TITLE OF “THE GLASS OF WHISKEY”]
Mr. Eames, with generosity equaling Mr. Harper’s, has filled many of
the crevices of my collection with the most interesting gifts. I can’t
say that I altogether approve of the generous impulses of these two
gentlemen--except when it applies to myself! It is very bad for the
book business. If bookmen were encouraged to go about giving away their
precious finds, what would we poor booksellers do?
This reminds me of the long chase I had for _Heavenly Spirits for
Youthful Minds_ some time ago. A customer in Yonkers wrote to me saying
he had this very rare book, supposed to have been issued by an old
Kentucky press in 1800. I was very keen to see it, so I motored to his
home at my first opportunity. When I arrived he pointed toward the
shelves at one end of his library. I saw with delight and envy the
long-sought volume, but when I took hold of it I was chilled. It felt
decidedly clammy. Then, as my friend burst out laughing, I realized it
was a porcelain jug made in the exact shape of a book! The joke was on
me.
My disappointment was not too great, however, as the _Heavenly Spirits_
was filled with mundane ones--Old Crow whiskey. I accepted it as
gracefully as I could, but I no longer use this imitation volume
for whiskey--I want something larger. Nor would I want to fill it
from the _Glass of Whiskey_, a tract published for youthful minds in
Philadelphia in 1830. This tiny yellow-covered pamphlet is but two
inches square. The artist who drew the illustrations indicated, with
his picture of a bunch of grapes beneath the title, that he knew
little or nothing of the inspirational sources of whiskey. Perhaps his
innocence secured him the job. Small boys freely imbibing, and the
resultant fruits thereof, are neatly portrayed. With what fascination
and horror little children must have read:--
There is a bottle. It has something in it which is called Whiskey.
Little reader, I hope you will never taste any as long as you live.
It is a poison. So is brandy, so is rum, so is gin, and many other
drinks. They are called strong drink. They are so strong that they
knock people down and kill them. They are sometimes called ardent
spirits, that is burning spirits. They burn up those who drink them.
The appropriate ending must have sent many a tot in search of a pencil
to sign the pledge: “O, how shall I keep from being a drunkard? I will
tell you. _Never drink a drop of anything that makes people drunk._”
I made my first find in children’s books when I was but a child
myself. A playmate of mine had an aunt who lived on Broad Street in
Philadelphia. We passed her house daily, on the way to and from school.
Sometimes we were invited to stop for lunch. One day I happened to
notice a pile of small books on her sitting-room table. She said she
kept them there to amuse the younger children of her family. Although
she knew I came from bookish people, she seemed surprised that I, a boy
of twelve, should be interested in old volumes. As I could hardly put
them down, she was evidently impressed; she offered them to me. You
may well believe that I took them and rushed out of the house, lest
she change her mind. When I reached home and my uncle saw what I had
been lucky enough to receive, he exclaimed at their rarity. My treasure
trove comprised three wonderful little volumes. They were _Black
Giles_, _The Cries of Philadelphia_, and a rare edition of _Babes in
the Wood_.
For thirty years I tried to obtain Benjamin Franklin’s _The Story of
a Whistle_. “_Le grand_ Franklin,” as they called him abroad, wrote
and published this fascinating story in 1779, when he had his press
at Passy, just outside of Paris. He had printed it in French and in
English, on opposite pages, in a charming pamphlet which he presented
to his friends. He used the little Passy press mainly to run off
official documents and other matters connected with his mission as the
American Minister to the Court of France. In 1923, I bought one of the
two copies that have survived, at an auction sale in London. It had
been briefly catalogued--lucky for me!--as A printed sheet in French
and English, “On Paying too much for a Whistle.” Although I would have
gladly paid £1000 for it, it was knocked down to me for less than one
tenth of this sum.
When discussing printing in this country, it is impossible not to refer
to Benjamin Franklin. He originated almost everything original in
America. His projects are more talked about to-day than when he lived.
Franklin, as a child in Boston, had had a taste of the dull literary
offering of the Pilgrim Fathers. The _New England Primer_ was then
the best seller. When he became a printer he published edition after
edition of it. Although Franklin himself records the sale of 37,100 of
these primers, there is but one copy known to exist to-day. Mr. William
S. Mason, of Evanston, Illinois, is the owner of this unique copy.
Surely, in some New England attic there must be another. The collector
can but hope! I have the only one known printed by his successor, David
Hall--shall I ever obtain one from Benjamin’s own press?
In 1749 Franklin wrote and published _Proposals Relating to the
Education of Youth in Pensilvania_. This work greatly interests me
and all those who claim the University of Pennsylvania as their Alma
Mater. It was soon after Franklin issued this that he and twenty-three
other citizens of Philadelphia banded together as an association which
soon completed plans to establish an academy for young men. It opened
in 1751. So this little book is a part of the actual foundation of the
University of Pennsylvania. When he was an old man, eighty-two, to be
exact, Franklin was still keenly interested in new books for children.
He had already given his favorite grandson, Benjamin Franklin Bache, a
fine printing press with types, and set him up as a printer. Under the
guidance of his celebrated grandfather, young Bache printed _Lessons
for Children from Two to Five Years Old_.
The older man was so delighted with his efforts that he decided, with
a business acumen not diminished with the years, to market the books
for him. Believing Boston to be a good commercial outlet, he wrote, on
November 26, 1788, to his nephew Jonathan Williams:--
LOVING COUSIN:--
I have lately set up one of my grandchildren, Benja. F. Bache, as a
Printer here, and he has printed some very pretty little books for
children. By the sloop Friendship, Capt. Stutson, I have sent a Box
address’d to you, containing 150 of each volume, in Sheets, which I
request you would, according to your wonted goodness, put in a way of
being dispos’d of for the Benefit of my dear Sister. They are sold
here, bound in marbled Paper at 1 s. a volume; but I should suppose
it best, if it may be done, to Sell the whole to some Stationer, at
once, unbound as they are; in which case, I imagine that half a Dollar
a Quire may be thought a reasonable price, allowing usual Credit if
necessary.
My love to your Family, and Believe me ever,
Your affectionate Uncle
B. FRANKLIN.
The original of this letter is in the collection of Miss Rosalie V.
Halsey.
Competitors and collectors have often complained that I have frequently
purchased at auction rare books that they especially desired and that
I did not give them a chance. Quite true! But I have often tasted the
same bitter medicine myself. I recall, very vividly, a certain day in
May 1913, when the Crane sale was being held in New York and there was
a tiny _Royal Primer_ included among the items, which I felt belonged
to my collection of children’s books. Printed in Philadelphia in 1753
by James Chattin, this _Royal Primer_ was the only one of its kind in
existence. In the good old days when George D. Smith was czar of the
auction rooms, all other dealers and collectors were under a terrific
strain the moment he appeared. We knew it was almost hopeless to bid
against him.
At that time Mr. Smith represented Mr. Henry E. Huntington. He entered
the auction room armed with as many unlimited bids as a porcupine has
quills. Mr. Smith seemed to take a peculiar delight in running up
bids on the little juvenile books I craved. And I had set my heart on
the _Royal Primer_ from the moment it was shown to the audience--a
beautiful copy in its original sheep cover. I was prepared to pay as
high as $200 for it, but as I watched Smith, the very shadow and
auction voice of Mr. Huntington himself, I had serious doubts of
obtaining it. The bidding started at ten dollars. Imagine my emotion
when it rose rapidly to $1000! I felt a complete bankrupt. It was no
small task to bid against this octopus of the game, and when the _Royal
Primer_ was finally mine at the absurdly high sum of $1225 I arose
quickly and went out for air.
The contents of the primers are generally the same. They begin with a
rhymed alphabet with illustrations, words, and syllables for spelling
lessons. Many of the earliest ones contain verses which were supposed
to have been written by the English martyr, John Rogers, just before
his execution, for the benefit of his “nine small children, and one at
the breast.” Mrs. Rogers and the children are depicted calmly watching
the head of the family at the stake as he is about to go up in flames.
Their little faces are like so many cranberries.
Later primers are equally amusing, sometimes with frontispieces of
George III, and others have dubious likenesses of Our President. Not
even the mother of George Washington could have recognized her boy’s
features in these crude pictures. But the primers were very popular,
and the Puritans continued to issue them. The _Beauties of the Primer_
was followed by the _Primer Improved_ and the _Progressive Primer_, a
more elaborate departure, which boasts colored illustrations.
It was during the early part of the eighteenth century that the Puritan
taste began to broaden a bit. In addition to the early primers and
catechisms, children were encouraged to read the Holy Bible in verse
and semireligious books which had come into fashion. A friend--Mr.
Thomas E. Streeter, of New York, a most discriminating collector--found
in a volume of pamphlets, _Some Excellent Verses for the Education of
Youth_, to which is added _Verses for Little Children, by a Friend_,
Boston, printed by Bartholomew Green, 1708. It was the only copy
extant, having miraculously escaped the rough usage of tiny hands. I
despaired of obtaining it, when one day Mr. Streeter generously sent it
to me with his compliments. Here is a sample of the Biblical verse as
it was written to impress the small reader. Imagine the youth of New
England, born with all the lively desires of a modern child, spending a
Sunday afternoon memorizing such rhythms as:--
Though I am Young, yet I may Die,
And hasten to Eternity.
Another melancholy book of poetry for children was printed in 1740
in New Haven by T. Green. My copy is the only one known to-day. Its
pleasant beginning must have charmed the small reader; thus: “Children,
you must die in a short time. You will soon go to a Heaven of Joy or a
burning Hell.” There are seven poems in each. The author cannot resist
depicting a lugubrious future. Imagine your own child memorizing this
sample, called “The Play”:--