Furnishing the Mind and the Home

Northern Advocate, 13 May 1939, Page 5 (Supplement)

Furnishing the Mind and the Home

BOOKS

Vice-Chancellor on School Libraries How is it that in many homes you may see a piano, a gramophone, a radio, writing desks, deep lovely chairs, just the essence of cosy comfort for reading, and' —no books? Maybe an odd one here and there, a passing guest, shouting from its paper “library cover’’ that it belongs elsewhere. But no shelves; no bookcases along a wall, or filling a corner. In spite of other furnishings there is a chill feeling that something is missing. Books, with their varicoloured bindings, ranged neatly on dark oak or walnut shelves, impart warmth and friendliness to a room; they are, at once, to others who love books, ever so little, a sort of masonic sign, extending you a welcome, assuring you that you will find old friends and meet new ones, and eager to do their part in making you* feel at home. A True Slogan “Books furnish the home as well as the mind” was a slogan coined by a bookseller, and it is perfectly true. No mind is well furnished that does not read books, and no home is really complete either in friendly warmth of appearance or evidence of culture, in which there are no bookshelves.

On the other hand, where some more expensive furnishing luxuries are absent, but books are present, there is still an atmosphere of furnished interest and friendly warmth, T was in a

. -sitting room recently, to call on a V- friend recovering from the “fin.” He was up and ensconced in a roomy arm. chair. Near him was a table wii'n a . couple of books, and within reach a low wall bookcase with inviting : volumes and titles. There was no

sense of the room being unfurnished, though I recall very little beyond a 'radio and things that were barely necessary. On the contrary there \yas

By “Caxt

The Use of Books

a sense of comfort, and culture, ana the books made friendly contact and conversation from the moment I entered, preventing all stiffness and the usual depressing formalities of sympathy. The time passed too quickly, and if I could hope that I left as much enjoyment in his mind as I carried away in my own it would be very gratifying. The School Library I have been switched on to those reflections by an address on speech day at Carlton High School, Bradford. The address was given by the ViceChancellor of Leeds University, Mr Mouat Jones, who dwelt particularly on the importance of a good school library, built up to suit and develop the interest of the scholars. There are, he said, multitudes of men and women who never read a book of any serious literary character after they leave school. The loss is incalculable. They have never been taught the reading habit or the library habit at school. As a result they never make use of a library after they leave school. The inculcation of the reading and library habit in a school is quite one of its most valuable functions. Why Should I But, someone may say, why should I form the habit of reading? The answer is obvious, if you give to your mind the proportion of attention it deserves. “Three meals a day and a smoke, that’s all I want,” a man once said to me, and observing the bulk of his body compared with his scanty mental powers, I was not surprised. It’s all a question of what we mean by “living.” Evolution reminds us of our kinship with animal life, but Man is something more, and that something more cannot be satisfied by bi’ead alone.

A Man’s Silent Friends

Certain it is that an unfed mind is as likely to become weak as an unfed body. We read, therefore, to expand and furnish the mind, and a man’s books can be his silent friends, whose fidelity to him never takes offence and never falters, whose companionship and cheer will see him through his loneliest hours and darkest days, in whose society he can always find an escape from the tormenting cures of life and fortitude for its conflicts and bitterness.

Yen may live in a cottage—in one room only—but your little library offers you the companionship of an immortal society, where you may hold converse, with whomsoever you choose, and though this society includes the greatest and wisest of all ages, prophets and poets, statesmen and discoverers, princes, queens and kings, none will be condescending, and none will rebuff you. You can reach out a hand to take a book, and find that you have opened a magic casement upon the illimitable landscape of human history —or opened a door admitting you to the treasuries of all knowledge and the many mansioned wonder house of Imagination. Till in the falling of the gloom The red fire paints the empty room And warmly on the roof it looks, And flickers on the backs of books. Armies march by tower and spire Of cities blazing, in the fire; Till as I gaze with staring eyes The armies fade, the lustre dies. Then once again the glow returns; Again the phantom city burns! And down the red-hot valley, lo! The /phantom armies marching go!