Chapter XXI: Section 6 (6)

Another outcome of the naïve optimistic view, as realizing the complexity of scientific specialization, is the doctrine that a simple, practical system may be kept abreast of scientific progress by the addition of new details. This elaboration of schedules is compatible with what we term "expansion." Expansibility is essential to the very life of a notation, but it may be overworked. Certain systems have, I fear, expanded beyond the capacity of their safety valves to save them from explosion. Thousands of the details of those inflated schedules are practically useless even in the largest library. Such abnormal distension of the bibliographical body, or hypertrophy of its special parts, is not now for the first time called a disease of the bibliothecal system. That the subjects and topics are innumerable and of intricate complexity has led to the misconception that a classification for libraries should embody an infinity of captions in infinite complication. An alphabetical subject-index is believed to be all that is requisite to operate this maze of entangled details. This view may be termed the =subject-index illusion=.

Classification for libraries is to be distinguished on the one hand from notation and on the other hand from an arrangement of bibliographical subjects indexed. Notation and index are but correlative to classification, and, however requisite to a practical system, are in truth of minor importance. They are the fingers and the feet of the body and brain that organize the materials of knowledge. Yet it is these fingers and feet that have chiefly occupied the attention of most classifiers.

In the theory of classification subjects are to be distinguished from classes as contents from containers. The subject is that which is denoted by its definition; the class is the aggregate of particular things--books, or other things--that are comprised by the definition. A class may be comprehensive of many subjects or aspects of subjects. Such need not appear in the schedules of the classification, but they should be in its subject-index. Thus, Botany is a subject, to which Botanical Books is the corresponding class; Plant Physiology, a less general subject, has a less comprehensive class of books. Geotropism is a specific subject in the physiology of plants. The question arises, is there a class of books and pamphlets treating especially of this subject, the tendency of plants to respond to gravitation, as a stimulus? "Have you in your library," I might ask individually of the majority, "have you an aggregation of books on this subject?" The A. L. A. List comes nearest in the sub-headings under Plants, where with Movements appears Heliotropism, a kindred subject. This caption Movements is for a veritable class of subjects, and it might indeed comprise Geotropism. That is just what the Library of Congress schedule does, subordinating under QK 771 "Movements, Irritability in plants, (general)", the caption of 776, "Miscellaneous induced movements: Geotropism, Heliotropism, etc." In my own classification, the mark GCM goes with the caption, "Movements, Heliotropism, Geotropism, etc." It seems well thus to provide for a future group of monographs. If I criticise the Library of Congress classification today, or elsewhere, be it remembered that I recognize its correct treatment of this and thousands of other subjects. But is the E. C. justified in reaching into the dim future for subdivisions of specialization such as its NESGD, Diatropism, and NESGL, "Lateral Geotropism?" That is where we must open the safety valve or burst.

The body of the D. C. is congested with thousands of names of persons, places, and events which may be subjects, but hardly for classes of books. Systematic schedules might provide for most of these, reduce the bulk of the system, and make for economy and convenience. The L. C. schedules suffer from similar but more astounding expansion. Class H, Sociology and Economics, is needlessly immense, having 551 p., of which but 51 are index. According to the principle laid down a moment ago, the number of subjects in the index should by much =exceed= those in the schedules.

The "Expansive" Seventh expansion expanded so much with its own specialistic tissue that it could afford to omit such bulk of proper and place names. For instance Aves (Birds), covers 8 pages of fine print; there are all the taxonomic terms, for example, PGSLPI is for Phalacrocoracidæ, some family related to the pelicans; but there appears besides only the single subject Oology (eggs), at the end as PGZ. No place under Birds for their structure, their habits, for the popular bird-books, and for such interesting subjects as their migration, flight, etc., about which there =are= books! However much there is to interest, to commend, and to admire in this great undertaking, it must be admitted that this is not practical classification for libraries. It is the province of the subject-catalog to bring together topics and titles which are too special for classification to bring into collocation.

But let us return to the main question of the feasibility of =better= classification. There are three answers, I said. Two we have considered, the naïve, and the pessimistic, also their offspring, the subject-index illusion, but we have not yet completely answered the pessimistic. This we may now proceed to do in connection with the third answer, which is optimistic and constructive, while at the same time critical. This affirms that better classification is feasible, that it may be sufficiently flexible and durable, that changes and adjustments may be provided for in alternative and reserved locations, that the notation may be quite simple, and that the index may be as full and specific as comports with convenience.

The purpose of library classification is to group books and to =collocate groups= for the convenience of readers and students in their =average wants=. It is not so much for those who want a book, whose author and subject are known, or any good book on a particular subject; for such, the author and subject-catalogs may suffice. But classification is for those who want books, in the plural, directly, without preliminary handling of cards. Three types of such wants are to be distinguished.

(1) To all libraries come (the prevalent type) those who wish a few good books on the subject, or a few facts to be found in the standard books. They do not care to fuss over the card-catalog. The reference librarian, the selective lists, may serve such wants, but close classification usually does so most economically and most satisfactorily. For very specific subjects, however, the subject-catalog in the large library may often best serve this type and may make it less dependent upon free access and close classification.

(2) The second type wants all the good books treating of the subject especially. From these the user himself is to make selection according to his purpose or point of view. Free access and classification are here requisite. A bibliography, if there be one, would be most likely an _embarras de richesse_.

(3) The third type is that of exhaustive research: all the available literature is wanted, not only the books and pamphlets treating especially of the subject, but also those on related subjects and those of broader scope. Subject-catalogs and bibliographies are needed preliminaries, but access, continued access to the books, is the desideratum. It is for this type that the most carefully guarded libraries give access to their precious collections. Classification, not merely any old kind of subject, or close classification, but good, scientific, close classification, based upon good, consistent, broad classification, is here of paramount importance. The test comes when the student turns from the special to the more general and the related subjects, which are mostly in related branches of science. The tendency to organization in science is rapidly and surely growing. The more consistent with the consensus, to which studies on the average are adapted, however original and divergent their aim, the more convenient will be the classification. It is in subordination of the specific to the broader subject or class and in collocation of related subjects and subdivisions of classes that most systems fail; and here that most classifiers fail to understand either the fault or the remedy.

The difficulties emphasized by the pessimist, the overlapping of studies and the rival claims, arise chiefly from improper subordination. The material is common to the several sciences because these are portions differentiated from larger fields. Child-psychology is part of Psychology. The science and art of education are mainly concerned with the mental. They are related to Physiology and to Sociology as Psychology is related. But to place Education under Sociology, as is done by the D. C. and the E. C. is to answer the relation of second, not of first dependence, and is as false as it were to put psychology under sociology, to put the cart before the horse. Education and Psychology are working together, and their books should be contiguous. How shall we arrange these practically? Well, scientifically, in the order of generality, thus:

I Anthropology.
ID to IG Human physiology.

J Psychology.
JN Social psychology.
JO Child-psychology.
JP Education.
JQ Educational psychology.

K Sociology and Ethnology.
KA Sociology.
KE Ethnology.

L History.

The principles of consistent subordination and practical collocation should guide the maker of a system, and his notes should guide the classifier of books. Here indeed should be a "code for classifiers" more intimately articulated than in a separate book. But herein lies the practical art of classification, so to dispose classes, divisions, and subdivisions, that they shall produce a relative minimum of inconvenience under the average conditions of demand and a relative maximum of collocation not only of special classes but of general, as well as a degree of consistency as high as practical conditions permit, and ultimately, as an ideal, a consistency not only with the pedagogic but with the philosophic organization of knowledge. This ideal, I believe, is not beyond approximate realization.

This critical but optimistic view ascribes the failure of library classifications to the dispersion of related material under subject, or close classification, without proper subordination and collocation. The subject-index, however useful to classifiers, is of little value to students. I approve close classification, but find it the more unsatisfactory and baffling as it is the less consistently adapted to good broad classification, with good articulation of related subjects according to predominating interests, and with alternative locations for flexibility to changes and for durability in the progress of science.

III

Having answered the main question of feasibility, we may now take up some minor practical questions, first Notation. It is not likely that reason shall soon remove all traces of prejudice and controversy in this matter. A few propositions, however, are so reasonable that I think they will be accepted. Notation should be brief and simple. Its simplicity depends upon its brevity, though also upon the familiarity and homogeneity of its elements. Letters give brevity. The capacity of three-letter notation, allowing for omission of all objectionable combinations, is about 15,000. Using letters and figures together increases this capacity to about 25,000, omitting confusing mixtures such as K7G and 8B4. Since somewhat more than 10,000 subdivisions seem requisite, the question reduces to this form: "Which is simpler, notation of three letters, or of five figures?" But figures, it is argued, are more familiar. They may be so to bookkeepers, but to the keepers of books! Familiar here means familiar with the numbers of the D. C. Then, are unmeaning combinations like DAL or GWK really more meaningless than numbers like 13859? On the other hand, isn't RAG easier to see and to remember? But the argument, so far as it is not merely prejudiced, is childish. Such combinations as A1, 3B, C42, and CF6, are hardly objectionable, and may prove convenient and economical in class-notation as they do in the author numbers, with which librarians are so friendly. Since they are come to stay, what is the use of arguing for homogeneous notation?

Notation is the more systematic and economical where it reduces in part to schedules applicable to the subdivision of many classes or divisions. This feature appeared to a minor extent in the "form signs" of the D. C., but was carried out extensively and complexly in the E. C. It is apparent also in the L. C., but there is more conspicuous by its absence through hundreds of pages of names of countries, places, and persons. Time does not permit me to describe here the six schedules that economize the system I have worked out: Schedule 1, Mnemonic numerals, constant throughout; Schedule 2, for subdivision by countries, applicable under subjects, where-ever desired; Schedule 3, for subdivisions under countries and localities; Schedule 4, for subjects under any language, except the chief literary languages; Schedule 5, for the chief literary languages; and Schedule 6, for arranging the material under any prominent author.

Some who admit the feasibility of better classification object that a classification modern for the present will be out of date in a generation. This in new guise is the familiar argument that it is useless to clean the house today, for it will need again to be cleaned next week--which all good housewives say is an unreasonable argument. It would be a pity to have fair librarianship called a slouch.

Is it conceivable that your books shall remain forever classified as they are at present? Are there to be no changes, merely additions of new captions? Conservatism is not strange, considering the cost of changing notation; but that cost is small compared with the cost of new building or new collections, and is justified by the service to be rendered. The longer postponed, the larger the cost, the larger the burden. Some libraries are changing now--to what? That change may indeed have to be changed again in a decade or two. But how long, then, should a classification endure--or rather, be endurable? One who would not prophesy may nevertheless give an opinion. I believe that a good classification should last a century--with some minor alterations. I believe that a good library should be willing to reclassify, if necessary, at least some of its collections two or three times in a century. I think that library economy should have been developed with better regard to this problem. It is not practical to arrange books inconsistently with the scientific and pedagogic organization of knowledge. Organization based on consensus is one of the marked tendencies of modern thought and purpose, and is not likely to be overcome by dissenting or disintegrating philosophical counter-tendencies. This organization is more stable than the theories on which it rests, and these are more stable than the popular press would lead us to suppose. New theories, new statements, are assimilated to the established body of knowledge without much dislocation of members. Durability in a system would depend not only upon present consistency with the organization of knowledge, but upon flexibility through reserved and alternative locations, judiciously chosen with regard to tendencies in science. There might be flaws and errors, but all practice, in whatever profession is thus imperfect and tentative.

That the D. C. is antiquated is not because of any change in science, but because it did not conform to the science of its generation. The welcome accorded to it in the pioneer days was in keeping with the earlier view that classification is a simple thing, as it indeed was for the small popular libraries. That acceptance has mellowed now into an affectionate companionship with a familiar and comfortable conveyance that has proved serviceable so far. Now the thing is said to need repair. But that it cannot economically be reconstructed has been recently demonstrated. It evidently must go on till its thousand pieces fall in a heap together, like the "wonderful one-hoss shay." Loading it with more and more scientific luggage may for a time increase its service, but the rattling of its parts grows all the more distressing to those who ride.

I reserve my opinion of the Expansive Classification and of that of the Library of Congress. It is to the point to say, however, that they are as unsatisfactory in the major principles of practical and scientific classification for libraries as they are valuable and admirable in the details which they have elaborated. They should help to solve the ultimate problem; but, if consistency with science and economy with convenience are feasible and requisite, neither of these systems is fit, nor is either, I think, likely to endure in general use in the future.

The simpler, the more systematic, and the more consistent with the organization of knowledge a classification and notation is, the more economical and the less vexatious will be the operation of classifying books. The subject, scope, treatment, purpose of the book--if that could be stated beforehand--and why not?--by author and publisher, and confirmed by the copyright office or the national library, then the class-notation could in most cases be quickly found through subject-index. That information might be printed in the book and more readily found there than through centralized cataloging and service of cards. Centralized or co-operative classifying however, or assigning of subjects and of the class-marks of an elaborately classified central or national library, would be a service of high value and of very considerable economy. =But= it should be distinguished from standardized classification. As libraries differ and differentiate, so should their classifications. At best a system may serve for libraries of a type, but not for all types. A university need not adopt an unfit classification as more than one has done of recent years. It may translate the centrally assigned subjects and class-marks into its own system, through its own index. Some general conformity, or conformity in special parts, may indeed prove economical and convenient, but standardization of an elaborate system is progress in the wrong direction.

This outline of a large, complex, and unsolved problem of paramount importance is very inadequate. I would propose that a committee be constituted, to articulate with the present committee on a code for classifying, to set to work upon a fuller investigation of this great question of the feasibility of better and more economical classification and notation. If librarians do not provide better classification for libraries, then the users of libraries will very likely in the not remote future provide for better librarians.

In the subsequent discussion, opened by Dr. Richardson and by a paper written by Mr. W. S. Merrill, chief classifier of the Newberry library, Chicago, exception was taken to many of Mr. Bliss' criticisms of present classifications. It was pointed out that the D. C., with all its faults, was yet eminently practical, as evidenced by its widespread use. Mr. Cutter stated that the E. C. classification for zoology, which Mr. Bliss had specially criticised, had been made in just the way Mr. Bliss himself regarded as the soundest, i. e., it had been condensed from material furnished by an eminent scientist; as to its being over minute, it was expanded only half as much as the scientist had proposed. Mr. Charles Martel, chief of the catalog division in the Library of Congress, Dr. Andrews, librarian of the John Crerar library, Chicago, and others also expressed their belief in close classification as a safeguard against confusion and unscientific grouping.

Only a few minutes remained for a paper on "Art in the college library," by Mr. FRANK WEITENKAMPF, chief of the art department, New York public library.

ART IN THE COLLEGE LIBRARY

The problem of art in schools has been frequently discussed. The matter of art in colleges, apparently, has not been so much considered. The cases, however, seem to be dissimilar only in degree, not in kind. In fact, not a little of the material that has been suggested for schoolroom decoration would be equally in place in the college. For instance, names such as those of Gozzoli or Luca della Robbia, on the =Craftsman's= list for schools could just as well be suggested for the college. Also, the average student is probably first to be reached best by recognition of the fact that there are other interests beside the purely aesthetic. In other words, good use can be made of the subject picture, the best possible being chosen. Dr. W. D. Johnston, librarian of Columbia University, where exhibitions "have always been an important auxiliary of lectures" and have included exhibitions of graphic arts, states that these last "are selected and displayed less with a view to artistic than pictorial value." But he adds that more and more attention is given to artistic value, and that in his belief the most valuable exhibits of an artistic nature are those "displayed permanently on the walls of halls, seminar rooms and lecture rooms. On the other hand, those which are exhibited temporarily should, if well selected, and well announced, do much to broaden taste."

The permanent display of pictures which illustrate with distinction certain broad principles of taste, is of undoubted necessity. But the use of the temporary show must not be lost sight of. The oft seen easily becomes the oft unheeded; familiarity breeds contempt. Periodical changes therefore seem advisable, as evidence that there is "something doing." Loans of good prints from private sources, if advisable, might be utilized to excellent effect. For instance, if the library happens to own, or can borrow, a copy of such a publication of color reproductions as the Medici prints, or "Meister der Farbe" or "Alte Meister" (the latter two issued by Seemann of Leipzig), a number of plates from the same might be placed on exhibition for, say, three months. This might be followed by a six-weeks' black-and-white show of good etchings from a private collection, or from the stock of the nearest museum or print dealer. After that, perhaps, a show of Greek art. The guiding principles should be: Keep the exhibit within reasonable bounds as to numbers, make selection with as much discrimination as circumstances will permit, and see that what you offer is made palatable. Dr. E. C. Richardson of the Princeton University library tells me that there a large collection of art photographs is drawn upon for permanent exhibition, the latter rearranged "every now and then" in order to exhibit fresh material, and that there have been a number of special exhibitions. (Incidentally, this university has a great variety of undergraduate courses in art.)

The matter of proper presentation is important. Not what is seen, but what is digested, counts. Good labels are a necessity; summary, with as little dryness as possible, informative, so that the student may see at a glance why a given picture was shown, and what are its good points. If relation to studies can be brought out in these exhibits, all the better. That naturally suggests the possibility of an occasional display of pictures illustrating a given period or personality in a given country. In the recently-printed little volume, "Art museums and schools," containing four lectures by Stockton Oxson, Kenyon Cox, Stanley Hall and Oliver S. Tonks, the significance of the museum to teachers of English, art, history and the classics is considered, and the documentary value of art is properly emphasized. "In order to teach the classics," says Prof. Tonks, "you must know more of ancient life than is to be gleaned from the literature by itself." Viewed in this light, the old Greek vases and other art objects take on a new significance. But the ultimate object of all this must not be lost to sight, the cultural influence sought, the promotion of interest in art as a matter not apart from, but a part of, our daily life, a contribution to general culture. It is well to make it clear that a certain amount of appreciation of art can become as much a matter of course as certain elementary rules of good breeding. "Art," says Croly, in his "Promise of American life,"--"art cannot become a power in a community unless many of its members are possessed of a native and innocent love of beautiful things." These considerations, again, suggest the occasional exhibiting of plates illustrating decorative and applied art, say color plates such as those in Wenzel's "Modern decorative art," or "Dekorative Vorbilder," or similar books, if procurable, or black-and-white plates from books or art magazines. A judicious use of the library's books is advisable, not through lengthy lists in which the bibliographical instincts of the librarian might find vent. Reference to two or three books on a subject--whetting the appetite by displaying them at the same time as the plates exhibited--may lead to an occasional reading at spare moments. It may help also to show the fallacy of the "I don't know anything of art, but I know just what I like" attitude. You can not understand anything worth understanding without some trouble, any more than you can play football or bridge without some practice.

The matter of hanging must depend, naturally, on local conditions: amount and distribution and shape and location of available wall space or other space, financial resources, character of student body, etc. The simplest method is, of course, to suspend the pictures by clips from horizontal wires, but it is not under all circumstances the safest. Pictures may be fastened to a wooden background (usually covered with burlap or other textile) on the wall. In that case, care must of course be taken that thumb-tacks do not pass through the print. The shank of the tack passes close to the picture upon the outermost margin of which its head will then press. Mr. E. R. Smith of the Avery library at Columbia University, lays strips of bristol board over the spaces between the pictures, and overlapping the margins of the same; the tacks pass through these strips. Pictures fastened to the wall may be covered by sheets of glass held in place by strong tacks, or perhaps the brass-headed upholsterers' nails. Where prints are shown unprotected it may prove well to mount them, unless they are printed on thick and strong paper. (At the Newark library they use mounting board bound at the edge with buckram and further strengthened by pigskin corners; this is for prints which circulate among teachers.) Where frames are used with the intention of periodical or occasional change of exhibits, the back can be held by the familiar "button" device which can be easily swung aside so as to admit of changing the picture without extracting nails. Mr. Paul Brockett of the Smithsonian Institution, tells me that there the glass doors of bookcases have been used for exhibiting pictures. At the same place, wing frames--that space-saving device of a dozen frames with glass centered on a standard, and having a certain swing in either direction--have been used. Moreover, these frames were units which could be hung on the standard or placed against the wall. In some of the New York public library's branches, such frames radiate directly from the wall, to save space. A similar device is seen in a certain type of display fixtures, in which the swinging frames reach to the floor, and which may be seen in operation in the lithographic exhibition of Fuchs & Lang, Warren St., New York City. There is no protecting glass here, however, and I presume that the use of this contrivance would be safe only in exceptional cases. Hints to exhibitors may be found in articles such as the one on "Mounting, framing and hanging pictures," by Miss Mabel J. Chase, assistant supervisor of drawing, Newark, N. J., in the =School Arts Magazine= for December, 1912, or in one on "Planning and mounting an exhibit" in the number for March, 1913, by George W. Eggers, who lays stress on the fact that "Every exhibit should definitely tell something." Still continuing the examination of this magazine, one notes in the issue of April, 1913, an article on the "Decoration of an assembly hall in R. C. Ingraham Grammar school, New Bedford, Mass." That relates to a permanent exhibit, and describes the distribution of pictures and other objects in such a manner as to make a harmonious arrangement of the whole room. But there are other periodicals, and there are readers' guides and other indexes and bibliographical aids, and this is not the place for lists.

Now, as to the material to be used for the exhibition. Outside of the resources offered by the library's own collection and the loan possibilities indicated, there are various dealers and other agencies to be taken into account. In the state of New York for instance, the division of Visual Instruction of the Education department has a circulating collection of pictures furnishing ample material for educational extension lectures and for study clubs. This consists of "Braun, Elson, Hanfstängel and Hegger carbons, Copley prints and bromides and Berlin photogravures." These wall-pictures are lent to schools and libraries, framed without glass, for a fee of 50 cents each per year. In other states, I presume state library commissions could give advice. There are the artistic lithographic drawings in color issued by B. G. Teubner of Leipzig at five and six marks apiece, the plates of Seemann's "Meister der Farbe" can be purchased separately, and dealers such as the Berlin Photographic Co., George Busse, the Detroit Publishing Co., Braun Clement & Co. and others could no doubt give lists and advice. Importing book-dealers, French and German, must be considered. Not all of the material furnished by these concerns is equally cheap, but a certain amount of the higher-priced sort will serve for permanent exhibit.