Aggravating ladies

“The sheet-anchor of cataloguing-work, as of all other true work that a man has to do, is accuracy.”—Edward Edwards (Memoirs of Libraries, 1859, vol. II. 868).

… “l’exactitude est le meilleur fondment du succès des livres de bibliographie.”—Quérard, Omissions et bévues du livre intitulé La Littérature Française contemporaine … 1848, p. xv.

“As bibliographers, we cannot indeed but wish, that the catalogue of every library were a bibliographical dictionary of its books…. There is no species of literary labor so arduous, or which makes so extensive demands upon the learning of the author, as that of the preparation of such works.”—Smithsonian Report on the construction of catalogues.… By C. C. Jewett.… 1853, p. 10.

“It is impossible to labor successfully, without a rigid adherence to rules. Although such rules be not formally enunciated, they must exist in the mind of the cataloguer and guide him, or the result of his labors will be mortifying and unprofitable.”—Ibid, p. 17.

I have used the word Bibliography, but I must warn the student that it is meaningless, or, rather, its meanings are so numerous and varied, being used for every sort of thing connected with books, that for any scientific purpose the word is useless. Bibliotheca also is used amongst other things to express a miscellaneous collection of titles; whether good, bad, or indifferent, matters little.

What is wanted is a short word which shall express that a book is accurately described. The word catalogue is worse for its indefinite meaning than bibliotheca or bibliography. The science or art of describing books has no technical term.^[2]

In describing books, accuracy is the one thing to attain. And the object should be so to describe the book, that anybody else shall be certain from the description that a particular book they have in hand is the one described.

So difficult did Prof. De Morgan consider this, with regard to early printed books that he said if he had to do his work on “Arithmetical Books” over again he would invariably describe some defect or error in the printing.

I now propose to give some hints on this subject, premising that there is at present no “Grammar” of Bibliography—nothing settled, no recognized authority.

Supposing a person were about to make a catalogue of a library, or even of a few books, the first thing to do is to lay down certain rules, to be strictly adhered to, or adopt rules laid down by another for that purpose. This has been done for many years past by the librarians of our National Library. So that there at least we have a Catalogue that we can depend upon so far as it goes: how far that is the rules inform us. Several of them simply provide against the prevailing loose notions of cataloguing. Rules for example to tell us that titles are written straight on as they are found, or in the language in which the book is written and not in another, read like satires on ignorance. And yet how necessary they are.

These rules, invaluable as a guide to every catalogue maker, will be found printed in the: Catalogue of printed books in the British Museum, volume 1. London, printed by order of the trustees, MDCCCXLI, in folio; the Preface is signed by the editor Sir Antonio Panizzi, and examples of the rules will be found in: A handbook for Readers at the British Museum, by Thomas Nichols, assistant in the British Museum, London, Longman, 1866, p. 51. This useful little work unfortunately has no index. A catalogue drawn up according to the rules of the Museum will be found in: “A list of the books of reference in the Reading room of the British Museum.”

The rules are ninety-one in number but for small libraries where provision is not required for every language under the sun, a smaller number would be sufficient.^[3]

Whatever rules are determined upon should be printed in the catalogue, so that those who consult it may know at once whether or not they are likely to find what they want and how.

The first question that arises is the amount of title page information to be given. To abbreviate or not abbreviate becomes the difficult question. It generally resolves itself into one of expense, and abbreviated titles are determined upon.

I now therefore treat of the matter as it is, and not as it should be, for if I treated it as it should be, namely with full titles, I should have little to say.

He must have been a bold man who first began to abbreviate titles for a catalogue. It is a most unsatisfactory practice, though now having long precedent for its use. It is like cutting off a leg or an arm, the body can still go on, it is true, but it is nevertheless mutilated.

The more title page information a bibliotheca gives the greater will be its usefulness. Everything, however, is subordinate to the proper description of the book. If that is done upon certain principles and rules, the cataloguer will at least be consistent, which few of the present day are.

Every word of a title may be given and yet be inaccurate, on the other hand half the title may be left out and yet be accurate^[4] though not perfect as I shall presently show.

The ordinary and most popular way of referring to or describing a book is to reverse everything and alter the title. For example, let us suppose it is stated that in 1868 Messrs. Longman published an octavo volume of 800 pages by George Brown, entitled a Treatise on the best mode of ventilation. Here everything is topsy turvy, besides being incorrectly called a treatise instead of an essay.^[5] The proper title being: An historical essay on ventilation, by George Brown, London, Longman, 1868, octavo, pp. xv. 786.

Instances of this kind of thing the student will find at every turn, in every publication, periodical or otherwise.

Another bad practice is cutting short the title page and explaining in a note what the book is about almost in the words of the author, so that all the necessary information is given, only incorrectly instead of correctly, an example of which, taken from Lowndes, will be found in my list.

The difficulty is not to find instances of looseness in describing books, but to find instances where they are properly described. I know of few bibliothecas, English or foreign, that can be relied on.

Probably these will appear to some trivial matters. Yet what thought and anxious consideration do most authors give to the titles of their works, before they finally suit their fancy; frequently, indeed, not being satisfied with them as sent forth to the world. How has the author considered whether he will put his own name, or whether he will write under a fictitious name, or his initials, or simply call himself “A Gentleman,” or designate himself by the office he holds as “A Magistrate.” Then, with what difficulty has he at last settled upon a publisher, and for what a number of reasons may he have done so. And yet some ruthless barbarian, who is totally ignorant of all the trouble that has been taken, and who knows nothing of the subject, cuts down our author’s title without hesitation. Or perhaps, what is still more astonishing, an author himself, although he has given the matter so much thought, will sometimes on being asked, send a list of his works, in which not a single title shall be correct, in which he will leave out all the first words, erroneously state the subject as in the book instead of as it appears on the title page: omit to say when published, whether with his own name or not; and, finally, and almost invariably, leave out the publisher’s name, which cost him so much pains to decide on.