There are dirty books on too many library shelves. Such libraries are deficient in the kind of system that preserves property efficiently. As for the mechanical plant of the library, the building that houses it, with its fittings and furniture, a proper system, of course, requires that these be kept constantly in good condition. Now, we Americans are impatient of detail: we like to do things in a large way and then let them take care of themselves. While the Frenchman or the Englishman watches his roads or pavements day by day and never allows them to get out of repair, we build expensive roadways and leave them alone until they are in disgraceful condition—whereupon we tear them up and rebuild them. While the foreigner builds his cities, stone by stone and street by street, so that they are picturesque and beautiful, we let ours spring up as they will, slum jostling palace, and factory elbowing church, until finally we form grandiose projects of reconstruction, cutting avenues here and making parts there—projects which may be carried out and may remain on paper. So I have seen tasteful and expensive library buildings allowed to grow grimy and dilapidated day by day through lack of a systematic plan for renovation and repair. Some day the authorities will wake up and there will be reconstruction and redecoration in plenty—to be followed by another era of slow decay.

The third entity that an efficient system must enable the librarian to conserve is evanescent and almost indefinable. It is difficult to bring system to bear upon it at all, and yet its preservation is of the very highest importance of all, because without it the librarian cannot do the work in his community that every good librarian is trying to do. Reputation is a fickle thing, indeed. Gained sometimes in a happy moment, it may persist for long years, successfully defying all assaults; achieved elsewhere by decades of strenuous application and scrupulous observance, it may vanish in a day as the result of some petty act of forgetfulness or of the stupidity of a passing moment. None the less is it the duty of the head of every great institution to strive continually to attain and maintain it; to increase it if possible and to guard it jealously. There he is in the hands of his subordinates and such system as he may bring to bear may and should be directed toward creating and keeping alive within them a proper esprit de corps. The library that succeeds in creating a public impression that it and all connected with it are honestly trying to be of public service, to win public esteem, and to gain a place in the public heart, has two-thirds of its work done already. Its burden is rolled down hill instead of up.

We boast that in our country public opinion is all powerful; but we are often apt to regard public opinion as we do the weather. Its balmy gales and its destructive vortices, its gentle dews and its devastating torrents, are alike, we think, beyond our power to regulate. Yet, though public opinion may be unjust or capricious, it is usually level-headed. So the library that covets that good reputation which public opinion alone can give it, must so act as to deserve that good opinion. And as one broken cog will throw a whole machine out of gear, so one assistant who does not realize his or her responsibilities in this matter may mar a library’s reputation, otherwise well-earned. It is hard luck, indeed, that a librarian, who with the majority of his staff has striven long and well to earn the public good-will, should see it forfeited by the thoughtlessness or ill-temper of some one of his staff. This, however, is the way of our world with its multiple connections. None of us may live for himself alone; we stand or fall with others, and the smallest bit of orange peel may bring down the mightiest athlete to the pavement.

How may the librarian, or anyone else, bring system to bear on such an evanescent thing as this? It is a hard matter, indeed. But can it be denied that a well-oiled library machine, one that is quickly responsive to direction and control, one whose parts are as perfect in themselves and as perfectly connected as may be, is least likely to suffer from unfortunate accidents? A librarian whose bad judgment—or whose kindness of heart, perhaps—has misled him into admitting into his machine one false cog may find to his sorrow that this will slip at the critical time, betraying both him and the whole engine that he had hoped to wield for good. Here no one kind of system, no particular detail, alone suffices, but every detail, every series, every combination renders the whole fabric of reputation more solid and more secure. I sometimes think that we Anglo-Saxons are in greater need of the inspiration and aid that we get from records of past intellectual achievement than are some other races. For our intellectual heritage does not come at all from our physical ancestry. We are the intellectual heirs of the Greeks, the Romans and the Hebrews, not of our own Teutonic fathers. We can, therefore, not only rely on heredity to maintain our intellectual level; we must continually drink from the same fountains through which our fathers drew inspiration. We sometimes think a little contemptuously of what we call the veneer of modern civilization that the Japanese have put on, forgetting that our own civilization is in great part also acquired, although the acquisition is of earlier date. Moreover, the Japanese have, and retain, intellectual ideals and achievements of their own, having learned from the West hardly more than its mechanics and engineering. On the other hand, our mechanical achievements are our own, our intellectual and esthetic standards are borrowed. Our intellectual status may thus be compared to the electrical condition of the trolley wire, which in order that it may furnish its useful energy to the motor below must itself be supplied at intervals with this energy from an adjacent feed wire communicating directly with the source of electrical power. The feed wire in our case is the library—a collection representing the intellectual energy of all past ages, springing directly from the powerful brains of the masters of mental achievement throughout the centuries. Unless we supply our minds from this, we shall not maintain our intellectual position. Is this the reason why the popular library has attained with us a development that it has never reached in Latin countries, whose inhabitants possess through heredity many of the mental standards of value that our ancestors borrowed and that we must borrow ever and again from the records of the past? We may be sure that this is at least a possibility; and we may be equally sure that the adoption of system, both external and internal, will facilitate both this and all other functions of the library. The statement that “the letter killeth and the spirit giveth life” was never intended to mean that we are to neglect formal and systematic methods of work. The letter kills only when it is spiritless, with the spirit to give it life it does well its part, ensuring that the institution to which it applies shall produce its results, surely, quietly and effectively, with a minimum of noise and effort and with a maximum of output. Let no one, then, deride or decry the formation or the operation of a library machine; we live in an age of machinery—of machines formed by effective human co-operation, as well as by interlocking gears and interacting parts. Rudyard Kipling makes his Scotch engineer see in the relentless motion of his links and pistons something of that “foreknowledge infinite” in which his Calvinistic training had taught him to believe and trust. So may we see in library machinery an aid to the accomplishment of that “far-off divine event” toward which our whole modern library creation has been and is still silently, but no less powerfully moving—the bringing into intellectual relationship of each living human brain within our reach with every other companionable or helpful human brain, though physically inaccessible through death or absence. This is the comprehensive ideal of the librarian; no machinery that may work toward its attainment is superfluous or inept.

THE EXPLOITATION OF THE PUBLIC LIBRARY[11]

Two and a half years ago; or, to be more exact, on January 22, 1909, in an address at the dedication of the Chestnut Hill Branch of the Free library of Philadelphia, the present writer used the following words:

“I confess that I feel uneasy when I realize how little the influence of the public library is understood by those who might try to wield that influence, either for good or for evil.... So far there has been no concerted, systematic effort on the part of classes or bodies of men to capture the public library, to dictate its policy, to utilize its great opportunities for influencing the public mind. When this ever comes, as it must, we must look out!...

“Organizations ... civil, religious, scientific, political, artistic ... have usually let us severely alone, where their influence, if they should come into touch with the library, would surely be for good ... would be exerted along the line of morality, of more careful book selection, of judicial mindedness instead of one-sidedness.

“Let us trust that influences along this line ... if we are to have influences at all ... may gain a foothold before the opposite forces ... those of sordid commercialism, of absurdities, of falsities, of all kinds of self-seeking ... find out that we are worth their exploitation.”

There have been indications of late that the public, both as individuals and in organized bodies, is beginning to appreciate the influence, actual and potential, of the public library. With this dawning appreciation, as predicted in the lines just quoted, has come increased effort to turn this influence into the channels of personal or of business advantage, and it may be well to call the attention of librarians to this and to warn them against what they must doubtless expect to meet, in increasing measure, as the years go by. Attempts of this kind can hope for success only when they are concealed and come in innocent guise. It is extremely hard to classify them, and this fact in itself would indicate that libraries and librarians have to deal with that most ingenious and plausible of sophists, the modern advertiser.

But in the first place I would not have it understood that the use of the library for advertising purposes is necessarily illegitimate or reprehensible. If it is open and above board and the library receives proper compensation, the question resolves itself into one of good taste. The taste of such use may be beyond question, or it may be very questionable indeed. Few would defend the use of the library’s walls or windows for the display of commercial advertising; although the money received therefor might be sorely needed. On the other hand, the issuing of a bulletin paid for wholly or in part by advertisements inserted therein is approved by all, though most librarians doubtless prefer to omit these if the expense can be met by other means. Under this head come also the reception and placing on the shelves of advertising circulars or catalogs containing valuable material of any kind. Here the library gets considerably more than its quid pro quo, and no librarian has any doubt of the propriety of such a proceeding.

Again, where the advertising takes the form of a benevolent sort of “log-rolling,” the thing advertised being educational and the quid pro quo simply the impulse given to library use by anything of this nature, it is generally regarded as proper. Thus most libraries display without hesitation advertisements of free courses of lectures and the like. When the thing advertised is not free, this procedure is more open to doubt. Personally I should draw the line here, and should allow the library to advertise nothing that requires a fee or payment of any kind, no matter how trifling or nominal and no matter how good the cause.

These things are mentioned only to exclude them from consideration here. The library is really exploited only where it is used to further someone’s personal or business ends without adequate return, generally with more or less concealment of purpose, so that the library is without due realization of what it is really doing. Attempts at such exploitation have by no means been lacking in the past. Take if you please this case, dating back about a dozen years: An enterprising firm, operating a department store, offered to give to a branch library a collection of several thousand historical works on condition that these should be kept in a separate alcove plainly labeled “The gift of Blank Brothers.” Nothing so unusual about this. Such gifts, though the objections to the conditions are familiar to you all, are frequently offered and accepted. In this instance, however the name of the branch happened to be also the name of the enterprising firm. The inference would have been overpowering that the branch had been named after the firm. The offer was accepted on condition that the books should be shelved each in its proper place with a gift label, to be of special form if desired, and that the donation should be acknowledged on the bulletin board. These conditions were not acceptable—a sufficient indication of the real object of the gift. Other cases might be cited, to say nothing of the usual efforts to induce the library to display commercial notices or to give official commendation to some book.

Several cases of the more ingenious attempts at exploitation having come to my notice during the past few months I set myself to find out whether anything of the kind had also been noted by others. Letters to some of the principal libraries in the country elicited a variety of replies. Some librarians had noted nothing; others nothing more than usual. One said frankly that if the people had been “working” him he had been too stupid to know it. But others responded with interesting instances, and one or two, in whose judgment I have special confidence agreed with me in noticing an increase in the number of attempts at this kind of exploitation of late.

I may make my meaning more clear, perhaps, by proceeding at once to cite specific instances which must be anonymous, of course, in accordance with a promise to my informants.

A photographer offered to a public library a fine collection of portraits of deceased citizens of the town. This was accepted. The photographer then proceeded to send out circulars in a way that rendered it very probable that he was simply using the library’s name to increase his business.

A commercial firm, which had issued a good book on a subject connected with its business, offered to print for various libraries, at its own expense, a good list of works on this subject on condition that it should be allowed to advertise its own book on the last page. Submission of a proof revealed the fact that this advertisement was to be printed in precisely the same form and with the same kind of heading as information about the library given on the preceding page. The reader’s inference would have been that the matter on the last page was an official library note. Of the libraries approached, some accepted the offer without finding any fault with the feature just noted; others refused to have anything at all to do with the plan; still others accepted on condition that the last page should be so altered that the reader could see clearly that it contained advertising matter.

A lecturer gained permission to distribute through a library complimentary tickets to a free lecture on an educational subject. When these arrived, the librarian discovered that the announcement of the free lecture was on the same folder with advertisements of a pay course. The free tickets were given out, but the advertisement was suppressed. Efforts of this kind are perhaps particularly noticeable in connection with the use of library assembly-rooms. There is no reason, of course, why libraries should not rent out these rooms in the same way as other public rooms, but it is usual to limit their use to educational purposes and generally to free public entertainments. Some efforts to circumvent rules of this kind are interesting.

Application was made to a library for the use of an assembly-room for a free lecture on stenography. On cross-examination the lecturer admitted that he was a teacher of stenography who desired to form a class, and that at the close of his lecture he intended to make announcement of his courses, prices, etc. He was told that this must be done outside the library.

It is very common, where the exaction of an admission fee is forbidden, to take up a collection before or after the lecture. When told that this is inadmissible, the lecturer sometimes takes up his collection on the sidewalk outside. There have been cases where employees of a library have embraced this opportunity to gather contributions. A colored janitor of a branch library was recently admonished for standing outside his own assembly-room door and soliciting money for a pet charity. Another janitor made a pilgrimage to the central library to collect from the staff. A classic instance of this kind is that of the street gamin who for several hours stood at a branch library door and collected an admission fee of one cent from each user. The branch was newly opened and its neighbors were unused to the ways of free libraries.

An example of the difficulty of deciding, in matters of this kind, whether an undoubted advertising scheme may or may not legitimately be aided by the public library is found in the offer, with which all of you are familiar, of valuable money prizes for essays on economic subjects, by a firm of clothiers. The committee in charge of the awards is composed of eminent economists and publicists; the competitors are members of college faculties and advanced graduate students; the essays brought out are of permanent value and are generally published in book form. Under these circumstances many libraries have not hesitated to post the announcements of the committee on their bulletin boards. Others regard the whole thing as purely commercial advertisement and refuse to recognize it. One library at least posted the announcement of the competition for 1910, but refused to post the result. It would be hard to tell just how much altruism and how much selfishness we have here and the instance shows how subtle are the gradations from one motive to the other.

Advertising by securing condemnatory action of some sort, such as exclusion from the shelves, has also not been uncommon. This requires the aid of the press to condemn, abuse or ridicule the library for its action, and so exploit the book. The press, I grieve to say, has fallen a victim to this scheme more than once and has thereby given free use of advertising space ordinarily worth thousands of dollars. A flagrant instance of this kind occurred in one of our greatest cities about ten years ago. The work of a much-discussed playwright was about to be put upon the boards. A wily press agent, in conversation with an unsuspecting librarian, obtained an adverse opinion. The aiding and abetting newspaper, which was one of ostensible high character, proceeded at once to heap ridicule and contumely on the library and the librarian for their condemnation and exclusion of the play (which really wasn’t excluded at all). The matter, having reached the dignity of news, was taken up by other papers and for a week or more the metropolitan press resounded with accusation, explanation, recrimination and comment. The gleeful playwright cabled objurgations from London, and the press agent, retiring modestly into the background, saw advertising that would have cost him $100,000, at the lowest estimate, poured into his willing lap by the yellow, but easy, press of his native burg. It is possibly unfair to cite this as an attempt to “work” the library—it was the public press that was ingeniously and successfully exploited through the library.

The fact that the mere presence of a public library is an advantage to the neighborhood in which it stands has led to numerous attempts to locate library buildings, especially branches, in some particular place. These are often accompanied by offers of building-lots, which, it is sad to say, have occasionally appealed to trustees not fully informed of the situation. I recall several offers of lots in barren and unoccupied spots—one in an undeveloped region whose owner hoped to make it a residence park and another in the middle of a flourishing cornfield, whose owner considered it an ideal spot for a branch library—at least after he had sold off a sufficient number of building lots on the strength of his generous gift. These particular offers were declined with thanks, but in some instances members of boards of trustees themselves, being only human, have not been entirely free from suspicion of personal or business interest in sites. Here it is difficult to draw the line between the legitimate efforts of a particular locality to capture a branch site and those that have their origin in commercial cupidity. Both of course have nothing to do with the larger considerations that should govern in such location, but both are not exploitation as we are now using the word.

A curious instance of the advertising value of the mere presence of a public library and of business shrewdness in taking advantage of it, comes from a library that calls itself a “shining example of efforts to ‘work’ public libraries for commercial purposes.” This library rents rooms for various objects connected with its work, and finds that it is in great demand as a tenant. Great effort is made by property owners both to retain and to move quarters occupied for library purposes. The board has recently refused to make selection of localities on this basis.

There is another respect in which the public library offers an attractive field for exploitation. In its registration files it has a valuable selected list of names and addresses which may be of service in various ways either as a mailing-list or as a directory. Probably there are no two opinions regarding the impropriety of allowing the list to be used for commercial purposes along either line. The use as a directory may occasionally be legitimate and is allowable after investigation and report to some one in authority. I have known of recourse to library registration lists by the police, to find a fugitive from justice; by private detectives, ostensibly on the same errand; by a wife, looking for her runaway husband; by persons searching for lost relatives; and by creditors on the trail of debtors in hiding. Where there is any doubt, the matter can usually be adjusted by offering to forward a letter to the person sought, or to communicate to that person the seeker’s desire and let him respond if he wishes to do so. One thing is certain: except in obedience to an order of court, it is not only unjust, but entirely inexpedient from the library’s standpoint to betray to anyone a user’s whereabouts against that user’s wishes or even where there is a mere possibility of his objection. If it were clearly understood that such consequences might follow the holding of a library card, we should doubtless lose many readers that we especially desire to attract and hold.

Of course the public library is not the only institution whose reputation has exposed it to the assaults of advertisers. The Christian ministry has for years been exposed to this sort of thing, and it is the belief of Reverend William A. Lee, who writes on the subject in “The Standard,” a Baptist paper published in Chicago, that in this case also increased activity is to be noted of late. Persons desire to present the minister with a picture on condition that he mentions the artist to his friends; to give him a set of books or a building-lot that his name may be used to lure other purchasers; they even ask him for mailing-lists of his parishioners’ names. “I am constantly being besieged,” says Mr. Lee, “by agents of divers sorts, and of divers degrees of persistency, for indorsements of patent mops, of ‘wholesome plays,’ of current periodicals, of so-called religious books, of ‘helps’ almost innumerable for church-workers and of scores of other things which time has charitably carried out of memory.”

It is refreshing to find that the kind of library exploitation most to be feared seems not yet to have been attempted on any considerable scale or in any objectionable direction. I refer to interference with our stock and its distribution—an effort to divert either purchases or circulation into a particular channel. My attention has been called to the efforts of religious bodies to place their theological or controversial works on the shelves of public libraries. When the books are offered as donations, as is usually the case, this is hardly exploitation in the sense in which we are considering it, unless the library is so small that other more desirable books are excluded. A large library welcomes accessions of this kind, just as it does trade catalogs or railroad literature. Attempts to push circulation are occasionally made, but usually without success.

But up to the present time it is the glory of the public library that it knows neither North nor South, Catholic nor Protestant, Democrat, Republican nor Socialist. It shelves and circulates books on both sides of every possible scientific, economic, religious and sectional controversy, and no one has raised a hand to make it do otherwise. We should be proud of this and very jealous of it. As we have seen, there is some reason to think that newly awakened interest in the public library as a public utility has led to increased effort to gain its aid for purely personal and commercial ends. Naturally these interests have moved first. It is comparatively easy to steer clear of them and to defeat them. But attempts to interfere with the strict neutrality of the public library and to turn it into partisanship in any direction, if they ever come, should at the earliest betrayal of their purpose be sternly repressed and at the same time be given wide publicity, that we may all be on our guard. We may legitimately and properly adopt a once famous and much ridiculed slogan as our own, in this regard, and write over the doors of our public libraries “All that we ask is, let us alone!”

SERVICE SYSTEMS IN LIBRARIES

I should be understood better, perhaps, if I said “Civil service in the library”; but the civil service is so called merely in distinction to the military service, and there can be no military service in the library, although the uniform of certain janitors and messengers may appear, at first sight, to give me the lie. Every library, of course, must have some plan of service, more or less systematic. This may or may not be subject to the regulations of the state or city civil service. I have no desire to dwell here on the question of the desirability of such connection; but I cannot refrain from saying, at the risk of losing all of my civil service-reform friends, that I regard the present methods of bringing about appointment for merit only as makeshifts, well designed to defeat the efforts of politicians and others who wish to see appointments made for other reasons, but necessary only so long as those efforts are likely to continue. I shall doubtless be told that they are likely to continue indefinitely, and therefore that I have given away my whole case. To show that this is not so, we have only to point to a large number of libraries in connection with which there is no such effort, and in which safeguards against it are absolutely unnecessary. I do not know why politics has not invaded these institutions, but I know that it has not. During the past sixteen years I have been connected with four large libraries, and I am in a position to say not only that no political appointment was made in them during my connection, but that no such appointment was ever attempted or suggested. There is absolutely no reason why the protection of “civil-service” regulation should be thrown over these libraries, and every reason why they should be free from the harassing and embarrassing petty annoyances and restrictions that are inseparable from such regulation.

Much as I honor the advocates of civil-service reform, and applaud what they have accomplished in the way of furthering a real merit system, I submit that a further step in advance may be taken when we have heads of municipal departments as unlikely to make political appointments as the average librarian is, and as free from pressure to make such appointments as are the librarians of a large number of our best institutions. I regard that as the best system, therefore, in which an appointing officer or body, sincerely desirous of making appointments for merit only, is perfectly free to make such appointments in any way that seems proper; and as only the second-best system that in which the appointing power, unwilling to make appointments for merit, is forced to do so, as far as may be, by the supervision and control of a body created for the purpose. So long as we have unwilling municipal officers, we must endure this second-best plan, of course; but librarians are rarely of this kind, though they may be unfortunately in the power of those who are. It has been my good fortune to formulate a scheme of service for each of the four libraries to which I have referred, and these schemes, with necessary modifications, are still in satisfactory use. The first, for the New York Free Circulating Library, was made in 1896; the last, for the St. Louis Public Library, in 1910. Some were hampered by the necessity of adapting them to municipal regulation, while others were quite free; and other local conditions imposed differences upon them, but they depended, in the main, on the same principles and were carried out in much the same way.

I have numerous requests for information on this subject and for advice upon methods of grading library staffs, with regulation of promotions, increases of salary, etc. Possibly the best way to answer these may be to give a brief account of the way in which the work was done in these four cases.

It has been assumed by some that, as every good librarian desires to have these matters systematically regulated, regulation by a city civil service commission will be as good as any, and that a man who wishes to have a system of his own and keep it under his own control is unreasonable and foolish. A non-professional body, however, cannot, even with professional expert advice, satisfactorily regulate the employment of professionals for professional work. This point has been so often insisted upon and elaborated that those, who do not now appreciate its validity will never do so. Every good librarian will wish to create machinery to put the right man in the right place in his force, and to drop him out if he goes wrong; but it must be his own machinery, not that of someone else, and must be designed to aid him, not to hamper him.

My attention was drawn to the necessity of a more systematic plan of service in the New York Free Circulating Library on assuming charge in 1895. The library had been hampered by insufficiency of funds and had been obliged to supplement assistants of ability and experience with others who had been employed simply because they could be obtained at low salaries. Promotion, where it was distinctly indicated, was for merit, ascertained simply by the librarian’s opinion; and salary increases were made very largely for length of service. An effort was made at the outset to regulate admission to the force and advancement within it. The features of examination and of grades distinguished by letters were borrowed from the Boston Public Library. A department head, who had been giving private instruction, had by the board’s permission placed some of her pupils in the library for practice work. This seemed an excellent opportunity to train future assistants; so the private class was turned into a library training class and the pupils into apprentices, their teacher being retained as such and properly compensated. The library force was divided into three grades, A, B and C; to which a fourth, D was afterwards added. The first two were indicated by the fact that the library consisted of six coordinate branches, each with its librarian-in-charge and her first assistant. All the former were graded as A and the latter as B. Class A thus necessarily became limited in number, depending on the number of branches, and B would have been similarly limited if it had not been made to include also all the high-grade assistants—all capable of assignment at any time to the work of a deputy librarian of a branch. Class C was then a remainder class, including all other members of the library staff. It soon appeared, however, that the line of demarkation between those members of Class B who were first assistant librarians and those who were not was much more distinct than that between B and C. B was accordingly limited to first assistants; the remnant was called C, and the old C became D. The old feeling that seniority should be considered was deferred to by arranging for automatic increases of salary within the grades at specified intervals. Janitors and messengers remained quite outside this arrangement.

It was provided that no one should be promoted from grade to grade without the passage of an examination; but that passage simply placed the successful candidate on a list of eligibles, and promotion from this list was made by considering personal fitness, character of work and immediate conditions. Qualifications for the different grades differed, but in quantity and advancement, rather than in quality, all coming under the heads of literature, language, general information and library economy.

This plan was formulated in consultation with the library committee, and was adopted as part of the rules of the library by the board. The committee differed somewhat on the seniority increases within grades, which were finally retained, and considered it of great importance to emphasize work and personal fitness. Methods of including marks for these in the final standing of the candidate were considered, but the difficulty of doing so led to the adoption of the plan as stated.

It was decided to give every member of the staff the right to demand an examination for promotion on the expiration of three years’ service in one grade, and to admit others by special order. Advancement proved to be necessarily so rapid, however, that no one who had any chance of passing the examination ever remained three years in a grade, and this clause proved practically inoperative.

Of course, many passed and were placed on the eligible list for promotion who had no chance of advancement for reasons connected with work or personality. This caused dissatisfaction which it was sought to mitigate by recognizing presence on the eligible list by increase of salary to the grade limit, provided this had not been already attained. Even so, however, it continued to exist.

The alternative was considered of examining only those selected for promotion and of making promotion conditional on the passage of such examination, but was rejected, although a perfectly possible and logical plan. But objectionable in many ways as all examinations are, they foster a feeling that everyone is having a chance, and previous selection, no matter how good, is open to the same objection as the selection alone would be, without any test at all.

It would also have been possible to make the examination competitive, placing the names on the list in the order of passage and promoting in that order, or grading the names in order of seniority, as in most city systems. But both these plans are open to obvious objections, and I still think it best to form an eligible list whose names shall not be considered in any order at all, the appointing officer being quite free to make his choice among them.

The application of this system of grading to the staff, as it existed, involved discrimination at only one point—that separating Classes B and C, or as renamed later, C and D. The line was drawn partly on the basis of the salary list as it stood, and partly by duties, and there was little dissatisfaction.

I have said that this system was formally adopted by the board. This is not necessary, nor is it the best plan. A system of this kind is best regarded simply as an aid to the librarian in making recommendations for appointment or promotion. In making such recommendation, the librarian must, of course, satisfy himself that his candidates are fit, and it is proper that he should adopt any system that commends itself to him for ascertaining that they are so. The board is, of course, the final authority. It could override any system that it might adopt, just as easily as it could go over the head of the librarian’s recommendation; and it is better for its own dignity that a departure from the system should take the latter form, rather than the former.

I regard it as quite sufficient, therefore, when a librarian grades his staff, that he should simply report to his board that he is about to make certain dispositions and require certain tests to aid him in making proper recommendations for appointment and promotion, and that his recommendations in future will be guided by these arrangements. The authority of the board and its ability to reject his recommendations have not been touched, and its disposition to trust him and accept his advice will be surely increased as it sees that he is adopting plans to improve that advice and give it force.

This grading of the New York Free Circulating staff has been dwelt on at length, although very simple, because it formed the basis of the other gradings, now to be described.

The application of a similar system to the staff of the Brooklyn Public Library took place early in 1899, at a time when, owing to a crisis in the affairs of the library, it had temporarily ceased to do work. It had only four library assistants, and yet the probabilities were strongly in favor of an immediate and rapid expansion, such as actually did take place not long after. Expediency, therefore, pointed to the organization of the staff on the supposition that it would soon be of considerable size.

The grading was precisely similar to that just described, except that Classes C and D were combined and called Class C, and the letter D was used to designate members of the training class. The principal interest in the scheme as then adopted lies in its relations with the city civil service. The New York Free Circulating Library was a private institution, charitable in its origin, but broadening rapidly out into real public work. It had no relations with the city, except to apply annually for its subsidy and receipt for the monthly instalments thereof as paid over. There could be no question therefore of city civil service jurisdiction. The case in Brooklyn was different. The members of the Board were appointed by the Mayor, and the library was recognized as a city institution, although exactly what this meant had not yet been definitely determined. The scheme of service was adopted at first on the supposition that the board was to be as free in the matter as though it had been an entirely independent body. The question might never have arisen, but was precipitated by the city auditor’s holding up the payroll on the ground that it had not been certified by the municipal Civil Service Commission. The question went at once to the Corporation Counsel for an opinion, and after he had decided that the city civil service regulations covered the library force, there was a further dispute with the state Civil Service Commission, exacerbated by a difference in political complexion between the two bodies. This held up the payroll for some time, and did not tend to reconcile any member of the staff to its new status. Matters having been settled, the commission promptly certified the payroll as it stood, in order to terminate the embarrassing situation, and then ensued a series of conferences with the librarian on permanent grading. It was decided that the librarian and assistant librarian fell within the exempt class, and that other members of the staff could be divided into senior and junior assistants, the latter including only members of the training class until properly appointed to permanent positions. Whatever grading the library might choose to make within the senior assistant class (A, B and C) was therefore its own affair, the commission taking cognizance of it only so far as it involved increase of salary. The point of conflict came at entrance to Class C, or on appointment to permanent position in the library. The commission at first insisted that it should make its own eligible list, graded in accordance with its own examinations, although it agreed to admit no others except members of the training class to such examinations. At least one examination of the kind was held, the questions evidently being written by some outside librarian on general principles, and with little reference to our needs and conditions. Ultimately, however, the commission agreed to let us hold the examinations and to accept our rating, although, when the eligible list had once been formed, we were bound by it rigidly. In regard to persons outside our graded force, such as janitors and messengers, we were held strictly to civil service rules, selecting our men from the first three on the list submitted to us by the commission. An unsatisfactory person could be summarily rejected after trial for a specified period, and as many such were on the list, there was rapid rotation in office in this part of the force. In the graded staff, also, although it might seem that the commission had almost abdicated its powers in our favor, we felt the restriction that bound us to select from the top of the list. Even though we had originally made the ratings, it often happened that for the particular vacancy in question the sixth name might be that of the best-qualified person, and we had the disagreeable alternative of taking one who was not our first choice, or of appointing on trial and rejecting until the proper name had been reached—a process much in vogue in city departments, but tiresome to the appointing authority and ignominious to those who were thus rejected and who might be better qualified than the person desired for another kind of position.

In 1901 the New York Free Circulating Library became the Circulation Department of the New York Public Library, under circumstances that gave it a separate governing body, responsible to the trustees of the Public Library, and a separate staff, whose organization was not necessarily the same as that of the reference staff. The annexed staff, of course, brought its own organization with it, and this, with some modifications, became that of the present Circulation Department. The principal changes were the limitation of Class C to three times the number of branch libraries and the almost total abolition of salary increases for length of service within grades. The former prevented unlimited promotion from D to C, and made necessary a selection from the waiting list to fill actual vacancies, and the latter, while not doing away with a difference of salaries in the same grade, made it possible to give the increases as a reward for good work. The designation of the grades by letters was objected to by some members of the board, on the ground that it meant nothing, so that alternative names were adopted for C, D and E, the two upper grades having already the names of librarian-in-charge and first assistant. Members of C were named second assistant librarians; D, assistants, and E, attendants.

When the Free Circulating Library grading was made, there were neither children’s rooms nor children’s librarians in New York, and very few anywhere. The former arose first and were served by persons assigned for the purpose, usually from Grade C. The organization, later, of a separate children’s department, with jurisdiction over all children’s rooms, made it necessary to place children’s librarians in a separate class; but that they might not feel “out of the running” for branch librarianships, they were allowed to take examinations and advance from one regular grade to another, in addition, if they so desired. Catalogers were still graded regularly, however, although these might have been easily treated in a similar way. The special nature of their work, however, was recognized by a variation in the examination. The test for the children’s grade was not an examination, but a series of periods of practical work in selected branch libraries, with observation and report and a final thesis. Candidates were specially selected by the supervisor of children’s work, and so jealously has entrance into this grade been guarded that even now not more than half of the forty or more assistants in charge of New York’s children’s rooms are members of it.

In later years a thesis also has formed part of the examination for Class A. This is written on an assigned subject, and the successful ones are sometimes, although not always, printed.

One of the difficulties connected with the grading in the Circulation Department of the New York Public library was the assignment to proper grades of the staffs of the different institutions that consolidated with that library from time to time. There were altogether about half a dozen of these, with staffs varying in number perhaps from five to forty or fifty persons. It was decided to leave the assignment entirely to the authorities of these libraries, who practically graded their staffs on a plan corresponding with ours before consolidation, so that there was no change of grade afterward. The responsibility was thus thrown upon bodies of men with whose authority the new staffs were familiar and which they would be inclined to accept. The assignments were made with varying degrees of care and validity, but were, on the whole, just, and there was little complaint with them. Too low an assignment was corrected by the next examinations for promotion, and a person graded too high never at all events, rose any higher. The smoothness with which these consolidations took place, even sometimes against the will and with the dismal foreboding of the dispossessed authorities, and the rapidity with which the entire staff became homogeneous, both in feeling and in quality of work, are sufficient justification of this particular policy, which was typical of that of the library in regard to other features of these consolidations.

In the year 1910 it was decided to grade the staff of the St. Louis Public Library. The principal differences between the problem here and that in the cases that have been described depended on the fact that this was an old library, with a comparatively large staff, having traditions of its own and justly proud of its achievements and of its library reputation. There had even been a feeling, at some time in the past, on the part of some members of the board, that a graded staff was not a good thing, as it would hamper freedom of control. The staff, however, had reached such a size that some kind of classification appeared inevitable, and the proper method of handling it seemed to be that indicated above as preferable, namely, as purely an administrative matter under the librarian’s control, to aid him in making recommendations for appointment, promotion and increase of salary. This was explained to the board, and there being no objection, a notice was at once inserted in Staff Notes, the medium of communication between the librarian and the staff, that the force would be shortly divided into grades, “the object being to represent definitely the exact position occupied by each one, and to fix the maximum salary belonging to each grade.” There was some additional preliminary explanation and a request for suggestions and opinions. After a lapse of about six months, during which the plan became familiar to all by discussion, both informal and in the weekly meetings of the heads of departments, the grading was announced by the publication in Staff Notes of the principles on which it had been made, with explanations in considerable detail. The names of those assigned to the different grades were not given, but each member of the staff was notified separately of his own grading, unless this was obvious from the published explanation, as in case of branch librarians. It was announced that the grading was not an act of the Board, but “simply a schedule expressing the formal manner in which ... recommendations will hereafter be made to the board.”

This scheme was more thoroughgoing than any of those previously noted, in that it provided a place and designation for everyone in the library’s employ. The force was divided into three sections—regular grades, special grades and ungraded occupations. The former were classified practically as in New York; the special grades were made to include catalogers and children’s librarians, with any special positions of enough importance to be placed there; the “ungraded occupations” were those of janitors and their assistants, messengers, elevator men, binders and other miscellaneous employees. In the regular grades A and B were limited, and while C and D were not formally so, it was announced that they would not be indefinitely increased. It was provided that those in special grades might qualify also for regular grades and might also be transferred thereto if desired.

In assignment of members of the staff to grades, existing conditions were recognized as far as possible, with no immediate attempt to remedy faults that might exist therein. Statement was made that all persons who might consider themselves wrongly graded would have early opportunity to show their fitness for the grade above, either in the regular way or in some other, if it could be devised. It was stated that the qualifications that would gain the librarian’s recommendation for promotion from grade to grade (which, it will be remembered, consists merely in an increase of salary, so far as the board takes cognizance thereof) would in general be of three kinds—educational, to be ascertained by certificate or diploma, or failing these, by examination; special, to be ascertained in some cases by examination, in others by mail, in others by certified experience; and personal, to be ascertained by personal knowledge.

In connection with the scheme, the training class was much extended in scope and its course broadened and made to cover an educational year.

Here, as in New York, the scheme is entirely distinct from the municipal civil service, but for a different reason. In New York the library is a private institution, occupying city property and doing public work by provision of a contract which does not provide for extension of the city civil-service rules over the library force; in St. Louis, the merit system has not been introduced at all among city employees. Should it be introduced in the future, and should it be decided that the members of the library staff are strictly employees of the city, we might have here the Brooklyn experience over again, as detailed above. For purely selfish reasons, therefore, the St. Louis Public Library should be well satisfied with the status quo.

In concluding, it may be well to call attention again to the fact that such schemes as these are designed to aid an appointing body or officer, not to control him. They would be of little value to a municipality desiring to limit a political mayor’s power for evil, or to a mayor wishing to keep his board of library trustees within bounds, or to a board anxious to curb its librarian’s propensity to appoint personal favorites. Such a plan pre-supposes that appointment and promotion for the good of the service are desired, and it serves to bring this about so far as it may. A board, or a librarian, could depart from it or violate its provisions in a dozen ways. What, then, is the use of it? In a small staff, it has no uses. It would be as silly to grade such a staff and make rules for its promotion as it would be for a housekeeper with a cook and one maid to call the former Class A and the latter Class B, and draw up rules for their appointment and promotion. But as soon as the size of the staff exceeds that at which the officer in charge can know each member and her work with intimate personal knowledge, then something of the kind becomes imperative. The members of such a staff are better satisfied that they are being treated with uniform justice, and that merit is properly recognized, if it is done in some systematic way like this, and the officer on whose recommendation appointments and promotions are made runs much less risk of making mistakes. Every librarian should, I believe, examine himself to make sure that his present scheme of service, whatever it may be, is sufficient for these purposes and adapted to secure their attainment smoothly and satisfactorily.

EFFICIENCY RECORDS IN LIBRARIES

While the plans therein described work satisfactorily from an inside standpoint, they are defective in one particular—that of complete record. This is most important in case of investigation by competent authority. While direct control of a library service system by an outside body, such as a municipal or other civil service board, is objectionable, there can certainly be no objection to the requirement, by municipal charter or state law, that the library service be organized and operated on the merit system, which requirement presupposes occasional inquiry to ascertain whether, and in what degree and form, this is the case. Now, in the event of such investigation, it will usually be easy to produce the records of examinations, with marked papers, tabulated marks, and the action based thereon. When it comes to personality and efficiency, such records are not easy to get. Even where libraries assign marks in these subjects and combine them with the results of the written tests to obtain a final mark on which promotion is based, there is nothing to show how the marks were obtained, and the investigating authority might not unnaturally conclude that here was an opportunity to nullify the merit system. Evidently all data on which appointment or promotion is based should be matters of record, otherwise a perfectly well-ordered merit system cannot be demonstrated to be such to one who has a right to know; and, of course, in the last analysis, every citizen has this right in the case of a public institution.

What appeared to be needed was some regular report on the efficiency of every employee, which should be taken into account in assigning marks or in some other way, in making promotions, made in such permanent form that it could be filed as a record. Such reports are, of course, constantly made orally and acted upon, without any record being preserved. They are occasionally made in recordable form, perhaps most often in the case of apprentices or members of training classes. In some cases derelictions or unfavorable reports alone have been recorded, but a complete report on personality and work made regularly and filed permanently is a thing that has not come under my observation, although, of course, it may exist.

Having decided to adopt some such form of report in the St. Louis Public Library, the librarian laid the matter before the weekly conference of department heads and branch librarians. Had the question been the advisability of the adoption of such a form, the sentiment of the meeting would probably have been against it, but the announcement was simply that the librarian had decided to require regularly thereafter, in shape suitable for filing, information regarding the efficiency of assistants that had hitherto been received irregularly and by word of mouth. A staff committee was appointed to draft a form of report, and the reports of progress of this committee, with the incidental discussions and conferences, occupied nearly a year, during which time everyone on the staff became thoroughly familiar with the plan and either agreed with the librarian regarding its advisability or had some reasonable and well-considered ground of opposition.

The librarian had in mind a short form, containing a few important data. The committee brought in a long one—somewhat longer than that finally adopted, which is given below. Their reason, as stated, was that it is easier to answer a large number of questions that require hardly more than the words “yes” and “no” in reply than a few, each of which calls for the writing of an essay, however brief. This reason appealed to all and finally prevailed. It means practically the presentation of the information required, ready-made, and its adoption or rejection by the person making the report. Discussion in the meeting was chiefly on the more personal items of information, such as those about neatness of dress, etc.; also about others whose propriety or clearness was questioned, such as that regarding loyalty to the library. Some of these were finally stricken out, but most were retained. It was also noted that in many cases the information asked for could not ordinarily be obtained. A department head, for instance, may be intimate enough with one of her assistants to know whether she has a real appreciation for literature, but in most instances this would not be the case. Many such questions were retained on the ground that answers, if possible, would be of value, and, if not, could simply be omitted.

After the forms had thus been put into shape they were duplicated and a copy was given to each department head, with instructions to show it to all her assistants, discuss it with them and report at the next meeting. The reports showed that the reception of the form had depended chiefly on the department head, either through manner of presentation or through personal influence. In some departments the plan seemed to be viewed with equanimity, while in others there was a considerable amount of suspicion, distrust and dislike of the whole scheme. It was next announced that anyone on the staff desiring to discuss the matter with a librarian would be given an opportunity to do so at a specified meeting. This was well attended, and it appeared that much of the feeling was due to misunderstanding. It was explained that no new method of making promotions was contemplated, and that personality and efficiency would be taken into account neither more nor less than before, but that the reports from which the librarian derived his information on these points would be required in writing, thus safeguarding both the appointing officer and the appointees. There seemed to be a strong feeling on the part of some that personal feeling might actuate some department head to make a false report, and that while, of course, such report might be made even more effectively if rendered orally, it would be a pity to have it permanently on record. There was no answer to this except that the likelihood of such a misleading report would probably become known to the librarian, who could reject or modify it.

In due course of time, a sufficient number of blanks were distributed, filled and handed in. They were then discussed again at a meeting, and questions that had come up in the practical rendition of the reports were brought up and settled. A filled report regarding the work of every classified assistant in this library is now on file in the librarian’s office.

The conditions under which these reports are made and held are as follows:

Every question must be answered or the reason for not doing so must be stated.

The reports are to be made out regularly on the first of each year, or oftener at the librarian’s request. Each is accessible only to the librarian, to the reporting officer and to the assistant reported on, except when a transfer is to be made, when the head of the department to which the assistant is to be transferred may also consult the record.

Since the reports were made out only about half a dozen assistants have requested to be shown their records. Some others were allowed to see them before they were handed in. Such excitement as there was regarding the matter has now abated, and the matter has been relegated to its proper plane in the scheme of library things. This is due, probably, very largely to the plan of conducting the whole matter on a free and open basis, in consultation with the staff at every point, and also to the length of time that was allowed to elapse between steps. Publicity and deliberation are the two necessary things in a procedure of this kind, and both are commended to librarians wishing to adopt this kind of record.

There is no doubt in my mind that some efficiency record is necessary and valuable, and that a full record, including the usual high percentage of good things with the possible proportion of bad ones, is preferable to a mere blacklist, on which only the bad is recorded.

The blank, as finally adopted, is reproduced herewith.