GIFT-BOOKS

Chance rummagers in the poetry stacks of Widener, in the sections from 1832-1900, will have noticed volume after volume of obscure poets or poetasters. Each is inscribed with the forgotten author's signature, most of them contain inserted notes or pencilled dedications in this manner: "To Professor Longfellow, with the poet's humble respects;" or: "Trusting that Dr. Lowell will find leisure to read these modest gleanings from the pen of--." The books are the garner of Longfellow's and Lowell's visits to England, where they became the patrons of aspiring writers, and were showered with literary products of greater and less merit. Many of these "minor Victorians" have been forgotten; a few are well remembered; but all the books are interesting and profitable to the student of the period, and doubly valuable for their personal records and associations.

These and similar donations are continually enriching the stacks of Widener. The library of Charles Eliot Norton, recently bequeathed by his daughter, is a natural supplement to the Longfellow and Lowell gifts, for Dr. Norton was their close friend and had a broad acquaintance among the great Victorian men of letters. His collection numbers personal volumes from Carlyle, Ruskin, the two Americans, and dozens of lesser writers. Professor Coolidge's annual report disclosed what sums are spent on acquiring new books; but huge fortunes and endless effort would be needed even to approach completeness. For most of the minor writers, and for books with the extra interest of autographs and notes, the generosity of individuals must remain the chief source.

Sentiment of this sort has a large share in creating such an institution as Widener. The building itself is the memorial of a mother to her son; many of the special collections, like the Farnsworth Room and the Child Memorial, have personal associations. It will be remembered that the philosopher Berkeley, after his ill-advised attempt to found a university in the Bermudas, left many of his books to Harvard as a pitiful reminder. And it was not so much John Harvard's money as his generous library that gave him title to be called the College's founder.