upon what may appropriately be called the school aspect of this question, as seen in the efforts made for years past to free the pupil from slavish dependence on text-books; to minimize the necessity for memorizing (in cer

ruts. Let me, however, point out the fact that it is an equally vital problem from the library's point of view, and that it is so regarded by librarians. In fact, could a teacher stand with me, by the side of his pupils as they approach the information-desk at the Public Library, with their various inquiries, he would be surprised to see in how many instances they are skilfully "switched off," and are led to take up a course which is far less "summary" and labor-saving than they had at first had in mind, and which is consequently more instructive and more certain to cause their own minds to react. The "steering" possibilities of this library officer are, I think, not generally appreciated.

one coming under the head of the "literature of knowledge," and the other coming under the head of the "literature of power" (to cite De Quincey's familiar distinction). As an instance of the former type, we will suppose that you send a boy to the public library for material intain studies); and, in brief, to avoid educational connection with a school essay which he is to present, on 'Cyrus W. Field and the Atlantic cable." Here the pupil goes from one reference-book to another; and from one biography to another, until he has accumulated all that he needs. He really cannot invent any facts about Mr. Field; and his work, unless he be more than ordinarily fortunate, is chiefly to use those facts which the books supply. As a result, while his stock of knowledge is increased, and while there has been some incidental practice in the use of the English language, he has not been brought in contact with any special uplift. As an instance, however, of the other type, we will suppose that you send him to the library on this very different errand - namely, to write on "New England life in Whittier's poetry." Here his mission will be-or should be - not to apply for books about Whittier's poetry, but to ask for Whittier himself - his poetry, and his letters, and his essential life. This is the other type, and it is well named the "literature of power." For any pupil who recognizes his opportunity, an exercise like this is a means of expanding his mental tissues, of discover-experiences are more delightful than the oping the real contents of his own mind, and even of developing his mastery over his own will.

What, in brief, are the methods which lead in the direction of our own intellectual growth, within this field? There are three injunctions of especial importance to all of us, indeed. (1) In one's reading in preparation for writing on any controverted subject, read all sides of the discussion, and not in a one-sided way. (2) In writing a criticism of an author, or his book, read what has been said of the work by other writers (if at all), after, rather than before putting your own ideas in form. (3) In choosing a subject (when the choice is left to you), give the preference to the type of subject which demands the maximum expenditure of thought on your part, instead of the minimum.

We here approach one of the most perplexing of all the problems connected with the training of pupils - the reluctance of the pupil to exercise his own powers of thought and expression. It is no part of my purpose to touch

Even in the comparatively less suggestive field of the "literature of knowledge," the pupil is here dissuaded from slavishly transferring the substance of a single cyclopædia article to his own pages, and is encouraged to make a comparison of different statements of the same thing. Moreover, in the work of thus consulting reference-books, the aim is, invariably, "to help the pupil to help himself." Few library

portunity of coming in contact with these young people who are learning their own mental powers, both in the use of the reference-books, outside the counter, and in calling for those on the shelves inside, and I will say, in passing, that at our library much disappointment would be saved to the pupils if different subjects could more frequently be given to different pupils instead of the same subject to nearly all the members of a large class, and also if notice could generally be sent to us in advance.

But in the field of the "literature of power," even more is it true that the effect of a stimulating writer like Burns or Whittier on the young mind is to fix the pupil's attention on his own feeling of interest in the author and of admiration for him; and he is consequently less likely to seek out what others- even though they be eminent writers-may have written about him.

It is an interesting fact that he is less likely to do this at the age when he comes under the care of the teacher in the grammar school, since the tendency to fall into this abuse is observed

in most libraries to be almost in exact proportion as the pupil or student advances in years, namely, only slightly in the grammar-school pupil, more so in the high-school pupil, and still more so in the undergraduate college student (though obviously not in the graduate student). There is an obvious connection between this abuse, or tendency to abuse, on the part of the pupils, and the phenomenon, already mentioned above, of "flabbiness" of mind in the adult citizen, of inability to think independently, and of one's mind holding "the last new idea loosely, until it is dislodged by the next comer"; and it is well worth all the pains which we may take to counteract it.

There are, let me say, three significant reasons why we may co-operate in efforts to counteract this harmful tendency, with peculiar hopefulness. The first of these is found in the plastic character of the child's mind at this period; the second in the fact that he comes in contact, at the school and at the library as well, with interested friends and guardians, keenly alive to the importance of the problem; and the third, in the almost incalculable potency inherent in the literature itself to awaken the child's mind, to unfold its powers, to develop its capabilities.

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not unnaturally looks to see it appropriate one kind of nourishment at one stage of its development, and another and different kind at a later stage; and consequently we are familiar with the distinctions between what is called “juvenile fiction" and "adult fiction"; "science for the young" and "science" proper; "poetry for children" and "poetry' in general. This is probably right and proper, provided that we do not insist too rigidly on our labelling and pigeon-holing process, in every instance. It is true that there are certain English poets— as Robert Browning and Matthew Arnold - whose poetry we ourselves now approach with an insight into the deeper meaning of it which we probably should have missed in reading it as children, while we should not perhaps have missed any very large part of Longfellow or Whittier. Yet the work of a given poet will sometimes differ in a very marked manner in this respect (as Milton, for instance, a large part of whose poetry requires to be grown up to, while certain poems, as his "Hymn on the morning of Christ's Nativity," can be appreciated and enjoyed by any child); and, above all, it should be remembered that children differ from each other most strikingly in the capacity to apprehend the finer shades of meaning and expression; and few things are easier than to underrate the child's capabilities in this respect. Surely here is a field where the long-continued and persistent attention which has been paid to child-study during the past few years ought to serve us in choosing intelligently the reading of the individual child; and particularly in know

When, however, we pass to the consideration of the other side of the subject, namely, the child's contact with literature as a source of pleasure, we find here a far more potent reason than any which have been named above why our efforts to introduce the young reader to the best literature may justly be regarded as hopeful. The innate capacity, in the child's owning how promptly a child may, in a given inmind, for an interested grasp upon a literary production, may be variously designated as his "love" for it or his "taste" for it, but in either case it is one of the strongest motives to be reckoned with. Indeed, one may say of the passion of love, as Emerson has said of the oriental divinity:

They reckon ill who leave me out."

This, indeed, is true, whether the object of the passion be an inferior one or an exalted one. While, however, it is a matter for congratulation when a pupil loses his hold on bad literature, and develops a taste for good literature, it is to be remembered that not all good literature is of the same type.

There is another careful distinction to be made, and one which is sometimes a complicated rather than a simple problem. Since the mind of the child is necessarily a growing mind, one

stance, be introduced to the authors themselves, as distinguished from selections or "schooleditions," even though these school-editions be of the best type.

Both in the commonly received view of the distinction above mentioned, between children's reading and adult reading, and also in the arrangement of the curriculum, classical literature is usually assigned to a later period than that of the grammar school. Yet it is impossible to read certain English poets — notably Milton, Shelley, and Wordsworth without encountering characters, scenes, and passages which have been brought into English literature from the classic writers. Instances also are very far from uncommon where the child's interest in the classic narrative, and its rare charm, have not only familiarized him with such books as Bulfinch's Age of fable" and Mr. Gayley's more recent

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work based on it, but also with such a collec- an earlier part of this paper the tendency of pution of translations into English as Appleton's pils to memorize was incidentally mentioned as "Greek poets in English verse," or with some one of the abuses to be guarded against. Yet one of the English versions of the "Iliad" and while it is true that the memory is sometimes "Odyssey," as a whole, in advance of the time allowed to become a bad master, it is no less when these are reached as a part of the school true that it may be made one of the best of course. We are not unfamiliar with the com- servants. Whether it shall be the one or the mon complaint of the wooden, unresponsive, un- other depends largely upon what the field of its appreciative way in which the classical writers operation is; and in this particular the field are too often rendered into English by pupils which is engaging our attention at present who approach them as a school task, and one can that of literature differs diametrically, as but be thankful for any such experience as has been more than once pointed out, from such that which has been cited above, preparing the fields, for example, as history or natural science. pupil as it does, in advance, for an enthusiastic | In history, while you place a text-book in the rather than perfunctory welcome of these au- pupil's hand, you recognize that, however skilthors, whose literary charm had already been fully the writer of the text-book may have tasted in the lower schools. For such a pupil, labored, to make his own expression of the histhe reading of Ovid is largely a series of remi- toric fact a broadly universal one, rather than niscences of his earlier reading, in English litera- one reflecting simply his individual point of ture, while his reading of Homer is even more view, and expressing his personal equation, yet emphatically an enhanced delight to him. It the pupil by no means derives from it the beneis a striking fact that much of the most suc- fit which he should, unless he breaks away, so cessful work with children in developing their far as possible, from storing his memory with the taste for standard English literature has had as author's phraseology, and restates it in terms its basis some volume of classic myths, or of of his own. In natural science the same need Teutonic myths, or of fairy stories, or folk- is encountered, and in an intensified form. So lore. Students of folk-lore, as well as those en- rapid has been the progress so "breathless," gaged in child-study, will observe with unusual one might even say — in some such departments, interest these significant tendencies. as electricity, from year to year, that a student There is, however, "noble prose" in our who should have laboriously stored his mind, in English literature as well as "noble poetry." 1866, with the exact phraseology of a text-book It is true that poetry appeals more to what Mr. | of that period, would to-day possess, in the cusLarned has called "that inner sense of rhyth-tody of his memory, instead of exact informamic motion" — innate, apparently in nearly all | tion, an uncommonly large store of misinformachildren than prose can possibly do; and yet tion. The reason why the opposite to this is prose has more numerous avenues of making true in literature is obvious. What the child impressions on us than poetry. It is our daily here comes in contact with is not some one's inmedium for the use of our native tongue; and, effective expression of the piece of literature, at consequently, the good and the bad in it are second hand, but the thing itself. So that when alike sure of impressing themselves on our at- the child is committing to the precious keeping tention. For this reason, indeed, a familiarity of his memory Shelley's "Ode to a sky-lark," with the most perfect instances of prose is most or Bryant's "Thanatopsis," or Wordsworth's desirable, as a touchstone to discover the in- "Ode on intimations of immortality," he is storstances of slipshod English, or of overloaded | ing it with treasure in which there is no alloy. pedantry; of newspaper fine writing, or of To the pertinent question where, if this be so, spread-eagle oratory. Such a corrective will be any opportunity comes in for the pupil's mind found in that stately passage from John Mil- to react, there is the obvious answer that while ton's "Areopagitica," beginning: "Methinks I the verbal expression of the piece of literature see, in my mind, a noble and puissant nation in question is as immobile as a marble statue, rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, the spiritual sense which therein makes its apand shaking her invincible locks," or in those peal to the pupil's mind is as mobile as a thing almost incomparable passages in Abraham Lin- of life. In this word "appeal," indeed, presupcoln's second inaugural address and his Gettys- posing as it does something in the pupil's mind burg address. on which to take hold, is the significant fact re

One more distinction remains to be made. In vealed.

Let us look, then, at some of the ways in editions of such writers as have been menwhich memory is a good servant to the pupil, tioned in this paper - editions prepared with no in connection with these treasures of literature. thought of any special use by young readers. First of all, such a literary masterpiece is many- Within the past few years, however, so gensided. Were we to know it only from its as- eral has been the desire on the part of teachers pect on the printed page, and then pass on to to utilize every promising agency for developthe next, our view of it would be as inadequate ing the child's interest in the best literature, as the conception which a traveller may have that a considerable number of annotated and spegained of the shape and outline of the Mount | cially prepared editions of these authors have Washington range who sees it from Fabyan's been undertaken, with special reference to their only, but does not correct this observation of use by young readers. Though issued by varihis by afterwards viewing it successively from ous publishers, they have, for the most part, Jefferson, from Randolph, from Gorham, from had the good fortune to fall into the hands of the Glen, and from North Conway. Rather, let men eminently fitted to give them the treatment the inexhaustible perfection of thought, of poetic which they require. For instance, the edition form, of feeling, of sympathy with life, embod- of Macaulay's "Lays of ancient Rome," which ied, for instance, in Milton's "Lycidas," have Mr. William J. Rolfe has given us, is a book an opportunity to sink into one's mind, to filter, whose attractiveness would win almost any as we might say, into one's consciousness, not school-boy. Mr. Edwin Ginn's edition of Scott's in one year only, but in a long succession of "Lady of the lake" also has much which apyears, as one is walking, or travelling by train, peals to the teacher as well as the pupil. There or waking from sleep, or dressing, or waiting is, moreover, the great addition to these refor a friend the poem itself, as written on the sources which the intelligent care of another tablets of the memory, all independently of the Boston publisher, and that of the broad-minded printed page. So only will one be able to esti- teachers whom he has associated with him, mate it even at its approximate value. have given us within the past few years, in the shape of the "Riverside literature series," the "Riverside school series," and the "Riverside library for young people"; and there are still others. Teachers have found it a decided boon to be able to have these and other books, suitable to use in connection with the reading of children, in large numbers, and for long periods; and it has been a great pleasure within the past few years for the managers of this library to accede to both these requests.

Again the mind comes to demand, under conditions like these, the entire poem, rather than a fragment-wholes, rather than extracts. We may recognize to the full the appeal which even a single line may make, to the mind which is sensitive to delicate impressions—the "flavor," so to speak, which is irresistible in such single and disconnected lines as these:

"The uncertain glory of an April day." "Deep as first love, and wild with all regret." "Wisdom married to immortal verse." "The breezy call of incense-breathing morn." "Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day." Yet these are but the charm to win us on to an acquaintance with the poem as a whole. Moreover, this perfection of felicity we find belongs to this piece of literature, as a whole, rather than to its isolated details. In music a really exquisite composition is one which does not leave us satisfied with a single hearing of it. We demand it again and again, as if to exhaust (if that were possible) all the secret of its inexhaustible charm.

We all know how fruitful is that work within the field covered by this discussion, which is disinterested and unperfunctory; and how hopeless, I might add, is that which is merely perfunctory. We may occupy the greater part of our lives in the search for the best way to make the children whom we influence love good literature, but we shall find no way more effective than this- to love it ourselves. There is no more world-wide difference between bringing cold steel in contact with dry wood, and bringing a burning coal near the same dry wood, than there is between the attempt to have the child taught to love good literature by one who cares nothing for it himself, and hav

These last-mentioned considerations may have a value to us as throwing some light on the specific measures whereby co-operation being the same thing undertaken by a teacher tween the school and the library may be most effectively secured in this direction. You will, of course, find at the library the complete

whose heart is almost glowing with a passion for it. After an observation of the successive classes of children who for the past 18 years

and more have come up to use the public library under an intellectual impulse received from their teachers, permit me to bear my testimony to the noteworthy extent to which the personality of the teacher has impressed itself on this use of books by the pupils. At one school the principal is under the influence of a passion for nature, and nothing is more certain than the impress which the pupil's mind has received therefrom. At another school, the principal takes an exceptional interest in the ethical bearings of every subject; at another, in civil government; and in these and

all such instances, a corresponding tendency does not fail to show itself in the pupils. Had the mental habit of these teachers been inert and colorless, it would have been next to useless to expect the minds of their pupils to manifest interest in literature, or to react on what they have been brought in contact with, as they have done in many instances. It is for more (and more fully developed) work in precisely these lines that I now express my hope, and make my appeal; and teachers may be assured that they will find the public library a cheerful co-operator in all such enterprises.

THE GUILELESS WEST ON "WEEDING OUT."

BY JOHN W. HARBOURNE, Librarian Free Library, Alameda, Cal.

gheny.

ASSUMING it to be desirable that in the pages | against a population of over 105,000 in Alleof the JOURNAL the widest possible range should be given to the discussion of subjects of vital interest to public libraries, I, as a librarian poised on the extreme outer edge of the sunsetland-beyond which there is nothing in range - rise to offer a few remarks, partly in reply to, and otherwise concerning, an article by Mr. Stevenson, of the Carnegie Library, in your March number.

Mr. Stevenson dwells with much weight upon the superior culture of Allegheny, yet his percentage for fiction is 86.69, while Alameda, geographically situated far beyond the outermost limits of the region to which culture is indigenous, shows only 68 per cent. for fiction. This looks bad for culture. But there is worse to follow; for Mr. Stevenson tells us that in Mr. Stevenson is sorely exercised over the Boston the percentage of fiction is so high that large percentage of fiction read by his patrons, the librarians there are ashamed to publish reand proposes checking the demand by curtail- turns. Now, there are two things for which ing the supply; and the more speedily and Boston is world-famed-culture and baked effectually to accomplish this end, he begins by beans. And right here we get some pointers weeding out the authors which according to which ought to be of service to Mr. Stevenson. his own showing-find most favor with Car- In Alameda, where people go little on culture negie readers. In short, by cutting off what and still less on beans, the proportion of fiction they do want he purposes compelling them to is low. In Allegheny, which is high in culture take what they don't want. Nothing could be and uncertain on beans, the proportion is large; simpler if he can make it work. Here, in the while in Boston, which is exuberant in culture remote and guileless west, he would find it and insatiable on beans, the percentage is unwork elegantly. People here never hesitate mentionably great. "The moral of which" about taking what they don't want, and they is: that a superlative degree of fiction inevitainvariably take it in a forcible manner if nec-bly accompanies excess of culture, with beans cessary.

Let me compare our Alameda library with that of Allegheny, Pa. Mr. Stevenson's report for 1896 shows 29,316 v., a loss of 38; and issued for home use 122,784. Receipts $15,000; expenses $14,995. Average for fiction 86.69 per cent. My report for the same year shows 20,416 v., loss 21; issued for home use 115,126. Receipts $8405; expenses $7359. Average for fiction and juvenile 68 per cent. The population of Alameda, be it remembered, is 15,000, as

on the side.

We have on the shelves of our library all of the authors whom Mr. Stevenson proposes to weed out so as to discourage and lessen the demand for fiction. His example is one which my experience does not in the least incline me to follow, for I stand upon a much broader base than Mr. Stevenson concerning the functions of a public library, in that I hold that it should be designed to entertain, and thereby attract the young from objectionable pleasures, as well as to instruct.