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Books are the windows through which the soul looks out. A house without books is like a room without windows. No man has a right to bring up his children without surrounding them with books, if he has the means to buy them. It is a wrong to his family. He cheats them. Children learn to read by being in the presence of books. The love of knowledge comes with reading and grows upon it. And the love of knowledge, in a young mind, is almost a warrant against the inferior excitement of passions and vices. . . .A little library, growing larger every year, is an honorable part of a young man's history. It is a man's duty to have books. A library is not a luxury, but one of the necessaries of life. — Henry Ward Beecher
A prominent and successful Philadelphia banker, a ruling elder, and one of the key individuals who led the Presbyterian Church to officially embrace the liturgical calendar, Benjamin Bartis Comegys was also a great lover of books. He amassed a great personal library and published a fascinating Tour Round My Library (1893), which reflects the philosophy of Henry Ward Beecher above, which Comegys quoted.
In this little book, Comegys proposes to give the reader a “chatty” description and tour of his personal library, setting the stage first with his ideas about the value of building a good, solid library for the Christian family. In the preface, he writes:
There are few lives so busy that some intervals cannot be found for the indulgence of a taste for art, science or literature. For most of my life I have been engaged in an occupation laborious, exacting and full of responsibilities. But from my early youth I have been a lover of books, and though I make no claim to scholarship, the cultivation of a taste for general literature has been one of the chief pleasures of my life. The companionship of books has been, and is, among my most cherished companionships, and I love them as I love my friends.
The love of books has led me to the gathering of some such as I cared most to have, and which were within my means; and the “intervals,” which have always been the evenings, have given me opportunities for reading and sometimes for writing.
True to the adage of Augustine (quoted by John Calvin in his Preface to the Institutes) — “I profess to be one of those who, by profiting, write, and by writing profit.” (Augustine, Epist. 7.) — Comegys was not only a reader but a writer, many of whose published works have recently been added to Log College Press.
Comegys also writes that the study of the Scriptures was a major goal in the building of his library as he acquired Bible commentaries and ultimately taught a class on the Bible. “Yet in a well-selected library that part ordinarily is the most valuable which contains books written to interpret the Holy Scriptures.” His body of published writings reflects a particular interest in both contributing to the work of the church, and to teaching and counseling the young.
A library bought for the purpose of filling a room, large or small, with books, even if well selected as to authors, subjects and binding, is not a library in the truest and best sense. A library for the family should be the growth of many years. Begun with a few books over the mantel shelf, and growing to fill a cupboard or two, then overflowing to some temporary shelves, it grows until a bookcase is needed; then another and another, until the room itself scarcely contains its treasures. Children must be provided with books, picture-books at first, then stories well chosen, then histories, such as the admirable series of histories and biographies by the Abbotts; then large histories, then fiction, then poetry, then books for Sunday reading, of which there is a vast field most attractive: for a household that is brought up to make a distinction between Sunday reading and every-day reading, will be none the worse for it when the children are grown, even if some people do sneer at such a distinction; then polite letters generally, then books of reference, never intended to be read, then dictionaries, then encyclopedias.
A library formed on some such plan, the needs of the family being the motive for getting the books, may be years and years before its accumulations are large; but every book so purchased will have a history of its own, every book will be loved for its own sake, its author will somehow become as a personal friend and visitor in the house — and no book, the reading of which would bring a blush to the cheek if read aloud, will find a place in that library.
The value of a library does not depend on the number of books it contains. The readers of “Ten Thousand a Year,” Dr. Warren’s charming novel, will not fail to recall the attempts of Tittlebat Titmouse to gather a library. This ridiculous character was, in this quest, a type of man whom some of us have seen in our country.
Comegys goes on to discuss principles of wisdom in the selection of the best books in various genres of literature, history and theological study, highlighting some of his favorite and most relied-upon. He also speaks to the reader about the joy of traveling via books without even leaving one’s library. And in a sense he takes the reader to places far and near, through ages of time long and short, by means of a little “tour round my library.”
Our tour guide then writes:
But first let me describe the room which I call my library. An irregularly shaped room with a deep, wide bay-window on the south and another window down to the floor: a deeper alcove and two windows on the north: the shelves on the west side broken by a wide fire-place and a mantel reaching almost to the ceiling, and a fine old German cabinet: a room wainscoted throughout with wood; no plaster, paint or paper; the ceiling of dark yellow pine set in deep panels, with pendants of dark walnut.
The spaces between the windows and all the rest of the wall are covered with shelves — the highest range being within easy reach, and over the shelves are placed busts of some of my favorite authors. In the middle of the room is the broad, strong table, that can bear any load of books — so firm that it does not shake under its sometimes heavy load. Across one corner of the room, quite away from the doors and the fire-place, is a most tempting lounge, with its pillows, the other furniture being the easy armchairs, all leather-covered, and the chair without arms, but with nearly straight back, which is always drawn up to the table, and which is my work-chair.
