Early Toronto Libraries, 1810–1830: Toronto Library and York Subscription Library

The Town of York was founded in 1793 by Lieutenant-Governor John Graves Simcoe as the capital of Upper Canada. York replaced Newark (Niagara-on-the-Lake), the capital from 1791-93. The town was an established frontier trading site with indigenous people and possessed a good harbour for transport and farmland that attracted settlers. About 1,000 people—settlers, traders, officials, and soldiers—populated the settlement in 1800. With increasing growth over the next quarter century, York became the centre of Ontario government, business, and cultural life. It was renamed Toronto in 1830 in recognition of its indigenous roots and incorporated as a small city in 1834 with a population of about 9,000.

Books and the value of literacy in a colonial setting were important elements in cultural life that were fostered by the Upper Canadian elite—Loyalists, government and church officials, wealthy merchants and investors, and emerging career professionals such as lawyers and doctors. Jointly, this conservative network of Upper Canadian men sought to control political, economic, religious, educational, and judicial power and became known as the Family Compact. These prominent citizens, who often possessed substantial personal libraries, also formed voluntary associations for various purposes, one being a ‘public library’ by subscription. Books and libraries were recognized as important sources of knowledge, entertainment, and inspiration for ideas, both personal and public. The development of private and professional collections by prominent men, such as Bishop John Strachan, who acquired an important collection of 18th-century English and Scottish religious and political thought, influenced the direction of education and civic life. Personal books were often lent between friends: after the death of David Burns, a Scottish-born surgeon and Clerk of the Crown, his estate administrator advertised in the Upper Canada Gazette on June 7, 1806, for a return of missing books from the deceased’s library, works such as Plutarch’s Lives, and volumes by Voltaire, Pope, and Swift. Beyond York, another admirable collection belonged to Robert Addison, an Anglican minister, who brought with him 1,300 sixteenth and seventeenth century books to Niagara in 1792. He supported the formation of the first subscription library in Upper Canada, the Niagara Library, established on June 8, 1800, “to diffuse knowledge” for a small group of forty-one residents. Citizens in Toronto would soon follow suit.

Subscription libraries, originating in the United States and Britain, were important social institutions in the 18th and 19th centuries. Robert Gourlay, the Scottish-born reformer who ran afoul of the Family Compact,  noted the development of small libraries in his Statistical account of Upper Canada in 1822:  He remarked that, “Books are procured in considerable numbers. In addition to those with which particular persons and families are supplied, social libraries are introduced in various places; and subscribers at a small expence thus enjoy the benefit of many more volumes than they could individually afford to purchase.” The collective aspect offered a cost-effective way to access a greater number of books and enabled community engagement beyond personal means.

Although funding for many subscription libraries was inconsistent, they did offer the opportunity to support the growth of collections of value accessible to local residents. Over time, these libraries increasingly expanded beyond elitist circles, and they could be said to have democratized access to knowledge, information, pleasurable reading, and civic engagement. The two Toronto libraries highlight this aspect because our knowledge of both groups clearly indicates an evolution from elite membership to members of the general public. These two libraries aimed for useful knowledge by balancing recreational reading with educational resources. As well, the Toronto libraries may be considered one part of the ‘public sphere’ where residents could meet beyond their own homes at a particular place, to read, discuss ideas, engage in civic dialogue, and advance self-knowledge. Notably, it became possible to expand literacy among subscribers of modest means. As such, they helped foster the idea of creating public libraries in localities.

The Toronto Library, 1810–1813

Sketch, Roberton’s Landmarks of Toronto

The Toronto Library was a private subscription library formally established on December 9, 1810, following preliminary meetings. It was located in Elmsley House at the southwest corner of King Street West and Simcoe Street. This residence was originally built in 1798 for Chief Justice and Speaker of the Legislative Assembly, John Elmsley, and served as Government House from 1815 to 1841. The library’s prominent members included Thomas Scott, Alexander Wood, George D’Arcy Boulton, William Dummer Powell, the Treasurer William Allan, and its Librarian William Chewett, later John Macdonell.
■ Thomas Scott was Chief Justice, 1806–16.
■ William Allan was a banker, businessman and politician who negotiated the terms of surrender when York was captured by American forces in 1813.
■ William Dummer Powell was a Loyalist lawyer, judge and significant political figure in the Family Compact and became Chief Justice from 1816–25.
■ George D’Arcy Boulton was a lawyer, judge and political figure who was appointed Solicitor General in 1804.
■ Alexander Wood was a businessman, militia officer, magistrate (appointed in 1800), and office holder who became a leading merchant in York.
■ William Chewett was a surveyor, office holder, justice of the peace, and militia officer.

These men formed the nucleus of a small group whose members are otherwise unknown. However, their literary tastes may be gauged from a 1810 letter requesting orders for the library in February 1811. This list was published in 1956 by the historian and Ontario Archivist (1950–63), George W. Spragge, who located it in Civil Secretary’s Letter Books, Upper Canada, held in Ottawa (RG 7 G-16-C). This letter was a list of books transmitted to the Rev. Mr. Walker of London, England, to be sent to the Toronto Library, February 1, 1810.

At a meeting of the directors of the Toronto Library, held the 17th January, 1810, it was agreed that the following books, or as many of them shall cost £100 Sterling shall be purchased in London, and Imported for the Library, by the Treasurer.

Johnson's Dictionary,
Rapins History of England,
Doctor Henry's History of Great Britain,
Robertsons Works,
Laings History of Scotland
Lelands Do. of Ireland,
Biographia Britannica,
Robins Ancient History,
Russells Do. and Modern Do,
Annual Register for 1809
Blairs Lectures
Johnson's Works
Spectator, Guardian, and Tatler
The Mirror and Lounger
The Looker on
Payley's Moral Philosophy
Blair's Sermons
Sherlock's Sermons
The Bishop of London's Lectures
Fordyce's Sermons to Young Men & Women
Milton's Poetical Works
Thomson's Poems
Goldsmith's Works
Smollets Works
Fieldings Works
Drydens Works
Popes Works
Swifts Works
Sully's Memoirs
The Gentlemans Magazine beginning 1800, 20 volumes
Plutarchs Lives, By Langhorn
Middletons Life of Cicero
Monthly Review for 1809
Fergusons Roman Republic
Gibbon's Roman Empire
Gillies Green
Volneys Travels thro' Syria & Egypt
Lady Mary Wortley Montagues Letters
Burrow's Travels in China.
Blagdens Modern discoveries
Johnson and Stephen's Shakespeare
(signed) / MACDONNELL, Secy.

The list of potential acquisitions demonstrates a broad interest in reading. Items were chosen because they could be mutually beneficial to the membership. Requests tended to focus on a range of subject areas: history, poetry, travel, biography, philosophy, religion, magazines, and novels.

For two years, the affairs of the library were published in the York Gazette:
June 29, 1811: a notice of meeting to be held in the library room of the Elmsley House by J. Macdonell, Secretary.
August 1811: notices during the summer for subscribers to pay the $4.00 annual fee which had been posted earlier in January (e.g., August 31, 1811).
January 1, 1812: notice to subscribers of the annual meeting of the Toronto Library to be held at 12 o’clock on January 10th.

Despite a promising beginning, the growth of the Toronto Library was abruptly halted during the War of 1812. When American forces occupied and set fire to York in April 1813, Elmsley House was vandalized and its collection of books looted. However, later, in November 1813, Isaac Chauncey (the Commander of the American naval fleet) returned two cases of books, apologizing to Judge Scott or Judge Powell and the library directors in a letter dated November 14, 1813. Edith G. Firth, librarian in charge of the Toronto Public Library Canadiana rare books and manuscripts, reprinted his note of regret in The Town of York, 1793-1815 (Toronto, 1962):

I beg you Sir to assure the Trustees of the Toronto Library that it has been a source of great mortification to myself and Officers that so useful an institution should not have been deemed Sacred by every person under our command—you however Sir must be aware, that it is not always in the power of Officers with the best disposition to controul [sic] those placed under them Situated as they were at York.

Although some books were returned, after a temporary hiatus, it appears a brief revival was attempted. A notice from the librarian, William Chewett, in the York Gazette on June 17, 1815, advised of a meeting to be held on July 3 and noted “any Subscriber or any other person or persons having any of the Books belonging to the Library, are requested to deliver them to the Subscriber immediately.” However, on October 14, 1815, another notice in the Gazette signed by Thomas Scott, President, announced that a meeting would be held on October 17 in the Church in York to consider the disposal of “such Books as are now remaining of that Library.” The library venture had ended.

Nevertheless, at some point. William Allan, the former treasurer, came into possession of some books returned by Isaac Chauncey and kept them for nine years, until 1822. On September 11th of that year, William Allan wrote to the Chief Justice Powell. Allan suggested the books were “an encumbrance to me but they are most likely [suffering] injury from being so long [and] as there is now four of the Gentlemen here out of Five who were chosen Directors at the Original meeting — [I] must beg that some determination may be made respecting them [the books] either to have them sold by Auction (as many of the volumes are now wanting) — or otherwise that I may be freed from any longer charge.” Later, on September 19, the Chief Justice replied that Allan should advertise in the Upper Canada Gazette to hold a meeting of subscribers and former directors to decide the issue. Both these letters, held by the Toronto Public Library, were reprinted in 1954 by Florence Murray, a former TPL librarian and, at that time, a library school professor at the University of Toronto.

Apparently, the meeting decided to auction the books in Allan’s possession: a notice in the Upper Canada Gazette on December 12, 1822, announced a sale of “several volumes of Books, in best order, that formerly belonged to the Toronto Library in this town.” There may have been suspicions that further books, perhaps those in circulation that were absent from the library when the American attack force arrived, were still in use, for, a year later, in December 1823, notices in Upper Canada Gazette appeared and continued into March 1824. These postings offered a handsome reward —“full value will be given, and no questions asked”—for missing volumes of the Toronto Library believed to be at large and formerly belonging to the Toronto Library, namely,

Goldsmith’s Works (1806 ed.)
Smollett’s History of England (1791)
Fielding’s Works (1806)
Ferguson’s History of the Roman Republic (1805)
Henry’s History of Great Britain (1805)
Gibbons’ History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire (1807)

Charles Fothergill authored the notice and likely became the owner of the incomplete sets he wished to restore. He was the King’s Printer and Gazette editor, and, at various times, a businessman, journalist, politician, naturalist, publisher, and politician. In 1831, he was one of the founders of the York Literary and Philosophical Society, established to promote Literature and Science. His success in obtaining the missing volumes is unknown, and he does not feature in any new library ventures in York.

The York Subscription Library, 1827–31

A few years later, a small group formed York’s second short-lived subscription library. On April 26, 1827, a short note appeared in the Colonial Advocate on a meeting held in Thomas Appleton’s school room on April 20th to form a “public library on liberal principles” that “all classes might enjoy the benefit of it.” The notice advised that another meeting would be held on April 30th to develop this plan in more detail. A subsequent Advocate report informed readers that Peter Paterson was appointed library chair with John Fenton as secretary. After opening remarks by Rev. William Ryerson, Rev. Stewart and Messrs. Appleton, Henderson, and Fenton, the following resolutions were adopted:
1) the desirability of forming a public library.
2) the name of the institution to be the York General Subscription Library.
3) A subscription of 10 shillings be paid, and subsequently a further subscription of 5 shillings a year be paid on a semi-annual basis by each member.
4) the secretary to enroll members as follows:
Mr. Harris, Rev. William Ryerson, Rev. Alexander Stewart, Dr. [James] McCague, J[ohn] Carey, P[eter] Patterson, T[homas] Appleton, R[obert] Meighan, J. Sanderson, E[dward] Henderson, B.W. Smith, J[ohn] Fenton, J. Caldwell, J. Roddy, W. Moore, J[ames]. Leslie, T. Elliott, J. Lackie, J. Armstrong, J. Lawrence, and R. Patch.
5) A committee be formed to draw up a constitution and rules with membership of Rev. Harris and Ryerson, John Fenton, Peter Paterson, and Dr. McCague.
6) subscriptions to be paid at McPhall’s bookbinder, Mr. Lesslie’s store, Patterson’s store, or to members of the committee.

In the same issue, William Lyon Mackenzie enthusiastically endorsed the scheme and pledged to become a subscriber and to present twenty to thirty volumes to the new library; but, thereafter, he grew silent about his own participation in its activities. Mackenzie was an enthusiastic proponent for all types of libraries, but he did not make further reference to the York Library even though the membership of the library was distinctly different from the select group that formed the Family Compact:
■ Rev. William Ryerson was a Methodist minister and brother of Egerton Ryerson.
■ Rev. Alexander Stewart was a Baptist minister and former teacher in York.
■ Dr. James McCague practiced medicine in York.
■ Thomas Appleton was a schoolmaster at the York Common School.
■ Robert Meighan was a merchant.
■ John Carey was a publisher and printer.
■ William Moore operated a drugstore.
■ John Fenton was a school teacher, an Anglican parish clerk, and a police clerk.
■ James Lesslie was a merchant, publisher, reform politician and later became one of the founders of the Toronto Mechanics’ Institute in 1830. He was a lifelong friend with Mackenzie.

Later in the summer of 1827, on August 22 and 30, the Advocate outlined progress made by the committee members. At their meeting, held earlier in the summer on July 2, the following resolutions were passed unanimously:
1. That a number of subscription papers be printed, and that the committee use their best endeavours to procure subscribers.
2. That the president, treasurer, and secretary, do their utmost to procure the books already proposed, viz.—
Dr. Clarkes tract on the use and abuse of Tobacco; Lord Chesterfield’s Letters to his Son; Evangelical Magazine by Jones; Goldsmith’s Works; British Methodist Magazine, 2 copies new series; Rollin’s Ancient History; Mosheim’s Church History; Watts on the Mind, Watts Logic; Reid on the Mind; Bishop of Landaff’s answer to T. Paine; Thornton Abbey; Locke on Toleration; and the works of the Author of Waverly.
3. That there be transferable tickets procured by the committee.
4. That Mr. Edward Henderson be librarian for the first year, and that he keep the books at his house; also that every Monday from 3 to 9 o’clock P.M. be the time for giving out and receiving books.
5. That a proper bookcase be procured for the use of the institution.
6. That the rules of the society be printed.
N.B.—A meeting of the subscribers will be held on Monday,, the 3rd day of September, at seven in the evening, in [Thomas] Appleton’s school room.
John Fenton, Secretary
Edith Firth reprinted this report in the Colonial Advocate concerning the organization of the York Subscription Library issued on August 23, 1827, in the Town of York, 1815–1834 (Toronto, 1966).

Despite this promising start, there was little news about the library until over a year later, on Thursday, December 4, 1828, when a notice signed by the President, Peter Paterson, of the quarterly meeting of York Subscription Library was announced for 7 o’clock Tuesday [Dec. 10th] 1828 at Thomas Appleton’s school. More than two years later, an Advocate notice in April 1831, announced a meeting for subscribers on Wednesday, April 27, at Thomas Appleton’s school for “starting afresh or discontinuing the Institution” and warns of forfeiture of claims by persons who do not come forward and pay their dues by Peter Paterson, President.

After this public statement, the York Library was dissolved, perhaps because previously on December 24, 1830, a small group of men met at the Masonic Hall on Colborne Street near Church Street to organize a Mechanics’ Institute for York. The Institute’s most active founders were Joseph Bates, a watchmaker from England, and James Lesslie. Once established, the Institute was housed in a rented space on the second floor of the Masonic Hall. When it opened in 1830, the Institute’s library comprised 1,300 volumes. The primary aim of mechanics’ institutes was to provide adult education for working-class members, including lending libraries, and they had broader educational goals and social appeal. In Upper Canada and Ontario, they immediately garnered legislative grants for their activities, a public funding advantage subscription libraries seldom enjoyed at this time.

Further Reading:

Florence B. Murray, “Toronto Public Library and the War of 1812,” Canadian Library Association Bulletin 11, no. 3 (1954): 102–103.

George W. Spragge, “A Toronto List in 1810,” Canadian Library Association Bulletin 12, no. 5 (1956): 197.

John W. Clarke, Jr, “Opening the Bishop’s Books: John Strachan’s Library and Enlightenment Thought,” Journal of the Canadian Church Historical Society 52, no. 1 (2014): 3–32.

William J. Cameron, George McKnight and Michaele-Sue Goldblatt, Robert Addison’s Library; A Short-Title Catalogue of the Books Brought to Upper Canada in 1792. Hamilton: McMaster University, 1967. This monograph is available at this link.

My previous blog on another Toronto subscription library formed in 1842 is at this link.

My blog on Canadian subscription libraries before 1850 is at this link.

Radio Broadcasts by Canadian Libraries before 1945

Canada was a pioneer in the development of radio. As early as May 1920, the Montreal station XWA (later CFCF) went on the air delivering a short concert broadcast to an audience as far away as Ottawa. Listeners initially utilized crystal sets, simple radio receivers. Eventually, these devices were superseded by many types of vacuum tube receivers that became standard for consumers to purchase as less expensive tabletop models by the 1930s.

Even so, Canadian audiences were limited in scope to major cities before the electrification of rural areas.For most of the 1920s, there were few Canadian stations and radio enthusiasts along the southern border, especially in Ontario, who often listened to American stations, such as KDKA in Pittsburgh, which began operating at the end of 1920. This station offered library storytelling for children, such as popular short fairy tales and animal stories.

The Golden Age of Radio and Libraries

In 2008, at the Ontario Library Association Super Conference, I presented a paper on the early broadcasts by Canadian libraries and librarians spanning the era of old-time radio from the 1920s to the ascendancy of television in the 1950s. It is mostly an overlooked subject in library history, but it has some parallels with the challenges presented by the advent of movies, television, and later, the Internet, Web 2.0, and social networking. Radio presented an opportunity to reach a mass audience beyond local registered users because it entered people’s homes from all cultures and educational backgrounds across a broader geographic region. The British Columbia Department of Education was a leader in school radio program broadcasting: it began a regular series of radio programs for schools in March 1938 in cooperation with the new CBC station in Vancouver, CBR.

At first, libraries began participating with local stations operated by newspapers and other commercial establishments before the rise of national networks. It was an innovative era for librarians that demonstrated their readiness to embrace new technology. However, the role of broadcasting was comparatively small and limited to major libraries like Toronto or Vancouver. Radio was often viewed as an external ‘extension service’ rather than a mainstream activity. There was usually no provision for specialized broadcast sections or dedicated staffing as administrators sought to develop a range of other new services, such as a readers’ advisory service. In response to the new medium, librarians used radio in a sporadic way before expansion commenced after 1945 when libraries turned to ‘outreach’ and programming on a more systematic basis.

During this formative period, there was a gradual evolution from a local focus to national programming. Small independent local commercial stations secured broadcast licenses from the federal government at the outset and provided a flurry of programs featuring news, concerts, sports, advertising, discussion groups, and short segments with local groups willing to participate. After the Canadian National Railway (CNR) established a network of stations between 1923–33 that eventually became part of the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC) national network in 1936, ‘library programs’ were developed for a national audience. The CNR radio was initially used as entertainment for passengers and railway hotel guests. Radio headsets and radio receivers in parlour cars of transcontinental passenger trains were linked with a network of transmitting radio stations from coast to coast. The CNR controlled the network content, usually from Toronto.

The CNR recognized the potential for educational programming along with educational authorities. This type of broadcasting began in the 1920s with the University of Alberta’s station, CKUA, and the Nova Scotia Department of Education’s use of station CHNS. A few years after the Aird Commission report in 1929, which recommended a national, publicly-owned radio system to foster Canadian culture and national identity, the federal government crated Radio-Canada to replace the older CNR network. It offered programming in two separate networks, one French and one English.

Libraries began participating more formally with the CBC as they envisioned a growing national audience. In 1943, Stuart Griffiths, head of CBC programming in Toronto, spoke to Ontario librarians about effective radio cooperative projects and the CBC organization. Toronto Public Library, in particular, developed a good relationship with CJBC, the flagship station of the CBC English network. In 1944, TPL devoted an entire section of its annual report to radio broadcasts highlighting one successful program, “Lets Visit the Library:”

The interviewer strolled through the Central Library building chatting with various members of the staff and collecting items of interest in the Circulation Department, the Reference Library, the Microphotography Room, and the Boys and Girls House where a story was in progress, and several boys and girls were ‘interviewed.’ The visit ended in the chief librarian’s office when Mr. Sanderson told of other library activities, aims and ideals, which couldn’t be covered in the actual tour.

Charles Sanderson followed in the autumn of 1944 with a lengthy weekly series of talks, “Books and Us,” on CJBC. These were educational in nature by encouraging reading through and discussing the content of books, library services, literary topics, and trends in reading rather than presenting reviews or promoting certain genres or authors. Attractive posters to announce the series and book lists in the form of book marks relating to each talk were made available to the public after broadcasts.

Library Leadership in Types of Programming

Radio use by libraries varied over the interwar period and WW II. Canadian librarians did not develop specific plans for the new medium. Leadership on broadcasting came from the American Library Association, which established a radio committee in 1926, mostly to link it with adult education and literacy work. Librarians often relied on publications to develop their own ideas and discover successful efforts elsewhere. Three books in particular were helpful: (1) Francis W.K. Drury, The Broadcaster and the Librarian (1931), which emphasized educational aspects of melding discussions and library events on local airwaves; (2) Faith Holmes Hyers, The Library and the Radio (1938), a practical guide for promotion and community outreach; and (3) Julia Sauer, Radio Roads to Reading: Library Book Talks Broadcast to Girls and Boys (1939) which reprinted transcripts of radio book talks presented by the Rochester Public Library where she was in charge of children’s services for more than three decades.

In the course of her work with ALA and preparation of her book, Julia Sauer solicited scripts from libraries and received replies from Toronto and Vancouver. The Library and the Radio explored cooperation with educational authorities and the kinds of broadcasts that children’s librarians were conducting. In general, Canadian libraries pursued several types of radio programs: children’s story hours, book talks, library publicity and programs, novel readings, and question and answers sessions by patrons.

Children’s story hours —  Storytelling was the predominant program format in the early days of radio. Children’s librarians were used to story hours for various ages and locales, such as schools. Also, this developing subset of librarianship deeply believed in the power of stories to inspire youngsters and inform them about becoming the best they can be. Through the 1930s, Louise Riley, a Calgary librarian who would later rise to prominence across Canada after 1945, often presented stories on local stations, such as CJCJ, CFCN, and CFCA. In Saskatoon, Dorothy Clancy began reading stories on Saturday and Monday mornings on CFQC in the early 1930s. There were many other instances across the country. Eventually, librarians began supplying radio with subjects for dramatization by professional announcers, a development leading to popular CBC Dominion Network programs in the 1950s, Cuckoo Clock House on radio and Hidden Pages on television.

Library publicity and programs  — On the occasion of ALA’s 56th annual conference held in Montreal in 1934, John Ridington, chief librarian of the University of British Columbia, broadcast a national address on Thursday evening, June 28th, on “Libraries as Public Safety Insurance.” He stressed the important role of libraries in communities and the need to finance these educational institutions properly. However, there were skeptics about the success of library publicity via radio. Mary Duncan Carter, the Director of the School of Library Science at the University of Southern California, told delegates at the Pacific Northwest Library Association meeting at Victoria in August 1941 that surveys suggested radio publicity for library work had comparatively limited appeal. She believed in concentrating on promoting the reading interest of various groups of listeners.

Book talks and novels  — Using the airwaves for discussions about new books, important authors, or trends in reading were always comfortable topics for librarians. Alerting audiences to popular Canadian authors, such as Grace Campbell, was considered another essential duty. The quality of the TPL program “Books and Us” prompted the Globe and Mail to editorialize on March 9, 1945, that stations beyond Toronto should include it in their Sunday evening programming schedules. By this time, book talks were well established. In Hamilton, Freda Waldon, who later became the first President of the Canadian Library Association, hosted weekly Saturday afternoon chats about new books and Canadian issues on CHML. Similarly, Alexander Calhoun, the chief librarian in Calgary, arranged a series of talks starting in October 1936 that touched on foreign affairs and issues of the day. However, Calhoun and his library staff also took another step by inviting guest speakers to make the presentations, a measure that became more frequent. Local libraries were also helpful by supplying materials to producers and professional radio announcers for their own book programs. The “Library Shelf” program on Toronto’s CFRB in the 1930s was particularly successful.

Promoting Library Services —  Of course, as librarians became more adept at programming of all sorts, not just radio, the idea of public relations crept into the minds of administrators. Creating a favourable image of the library became an important aspect of broadcasting. The most notable instance came in June 1936, when the Special Libraries Association met in Montreal. American special librarians used a series of radio addresses to inform and promote the public about type library work, an event I documented in an earlier blog at this link. Through the 1930s and 1940s, librarians often suggested a visit to the library would open new vistas. In early 1946, the Montreal Children's Library (a privately funded library) used radio to advertise its services. On one segment, Ted Miller, an announcer on CBM, interviewed a boy and girl who were library users. They explained their experiences and enjoyed their adventure over the airwaves. By the mid-1940s, as librarianship developed, a few librarians, such as Elizabeth Dafoe, chief librarian of the University of Manitoba, began to use radio to promote regional systems and to entice students to pursue a library career.

Conclusion

Although some librarians were reluctant to participate in radio broadcasting because they feared it might reduce the popularity of reading books and the use of libraries. Also, there was concern about the commercialization of literature. In his 1935 annual report, Charles Sanderson, deputy chief librarian at Toronto Public Library, noted the demand for books stemming from radio broadcasts: “whilst some of these broadcasts represent disinterested comment, many of them have a camouflaged commercial support which is unknown to most listeners.” Sanderson suggested one solution was independent library programing to offset commercial coercion. Nevertheless, many successful experimental library efforts emerged in the interwar period. Generally, library broadcasts produced a broad range of programming that attempted to enrich the lives of people of all ages.

Ultimately, despite generally enthusiastic support for radio, librarians shared the fate of others who advocated for educational programs. Commercial programs, especially American ones, proliferated, and as radio programming became more segmented and competitive, and television achieved its primary, local library efforts were given less time on the air. However, they continued to provide support for broadcasters by supplying information and materials for programs. There were other difficult factors as well, such as the allocation of less popular or irregular hours, the lack of direct public response, inconsistent ties to local stations or broadcasters, and the absence of reliable survey data on audience size. Nonetheless, librarian broadcasters, especially children’s librarians, were determined to use radio to promote reading and library use through book talks, storytelling, and promotional programs.

Dorothy Cullen, a Prince Edward Island librarian who had earned her BLS at the Pratt Institute Library School in 1936, and who had experience with radio book talks, summed up this period astutely in a 1946 article on broadcasting published in the Maritimes and Ontario: “If the question were put to a group of librarians — ‘Are radio programs worthwhile as publicity’ — you would find considerable difference of opinion about them; but probably most of the people who have given this medium a tryout would say that they found broadcasting worth the time and effort. It does take a good deal of time preparing radio broadcasts ... but radio publicity can compare favorably with projects undertaken within the library - displays, booklists, etc. because it has possibilities of reaching people who are not library patrons.”

Further suggestions:

My 2008 Canadian Library Association radio presentation on Reaching Listeners and Users is at this link.

An audio and transcription of my interview by Mr. Rex Murphy on the CBC network in March 1995 about the future of libraries and books is the subject of an earlier blog at this link.

Use of radio at the Special Libraries Association conference in Montreal in 1936 is the subject of an earlier blog at this link.

Cullen, Dorothy, “Radio Programs,” Maritime Library Association Bulletin 10, no. 2 (1945): 6–1; Reprinted as “Library Radio Programs,” Ontario Library Review 30, no. 1 (1946): 48–52. 

 

George-Émile Marquis and Public Libraries in Quebec before 1945

Nos bibliothèques publiques, by Georges-Émile Marquis. Québec: Éditions du Terroir, 1925, 16 p., illus.
Plaidoyer pour les bibliothèques publiques, by Georges-Émile Marquis. Montréal: L’Oeuvre des tracts, 1946, 16 p.

G-É Marquis, c.1930s

In 1890, the government of Quebec passed a statute, the Municipal Aid to Public Libraries (Chapter 34), authorizing municipalities to approve bylaws to “aid, in conformity with the laws governing them, the establishment and maintenance of free public libraries in their municipalities or in adjoining municipalities.” This law also stipulated similar permissive assistance for library associations and mechanics’ institutes. The city of Westmount, on the island of Montreal, was the first to create a municipal library under this statute in 1899. Yet, the vast majority of communities in Quebec continued to be served by bibliothèques paroissiales, that is, small local collections created and managed by the Catholic Church for use by parishioners since the mid-19th century. These libraries offered ‘wholesome reading’ with an emphasis on Catholic values and they were operated, for the most part, by priests and volunteers.

 

There were critics of the dominance of clerical influence in Quebec society, such as André Siegfried (1875–1959), a French academic and political writer who authored the Le Canada, les deux races (1906) published in English in 1907. Despite his critique of clerical power, he proposed that French speaking Canadians had formed a “national” identity and affiliation with French civilization. His view influenced generations of Quebec leaders and was especially prevalent when G-É Marquis was writing about life in Quebec during the first half of the 20th century. Siegfried believed that it was necessary to encourage Québécois to modernize and escape from the constraints of conservative Catholic traditionalism to become a more liberal, secular society. Public library formation through municipalities was one such step where he felt the oposition of Church was a negative force.

 

Ecclesiastical resistance to the establishment of secularized municipal public libraries remained strong, even in Quebec’s urban centre, Montreal, where the city council, forced to turn down a $150,000 Carnegie promised grant made in 1901, eventually erected a public library. The Bibliothèque de la Ville de Montréal, a beautiful, classic Beaux-Arts style building, became the city’s central public library after its official opening in May 1917. However, its holdings were deficient for a city of more than 600,000, borrowing was subject to a $3 to $6 deposit, and French-language publications were lacking. By the mid-1920s, only small steps had been taken toward municipal tax-supported public libraries in Quebec. There were few writers or journalists publishing articles in newspapers, journals, or monographs advocating the adoption of this type of library which was making greater strides in English-speaking countries.

 

One such author, largely ignored in Canadian public library histories, was Georges-Émile Marquis, who was born in Saint-Pierre-de-Montmagny in 1878. He became a teacher after graduating from the Laval Normal School in 1896; then, he taught schoolchildren for a short time before becoming a school inspector after 1905. A few years later, he was appointed Chief Statistician of the Quebec Bureau of Statistics in 1914. Marquis had an eclectic range of interests spanning history, economics, travel, the presidency of the Canadian Club at Quebec City, and the honorary rank of colonel in the Lévis Regiment. As a member of the Société des Auteurs Canadiens and the Société des Arts, Sciences et Lettres, he was intent on publishing his lectures and issuing small pamphlets: one such special focus was the library situation in Quebec. This attentiveness became a vocation, when, in 1934, he was appointed as Director of the Library of the Legislator, a position he held in Quebec City until his retirement in 1952.

 

G.-É. Marquis and Nos bibliothèques publiques, 1925

 

Marquis’ first library publication, Nos bibliothèques publiques, drew on his knowledge of general statistics for all types of libraries collected by the provincial government as well as his practical experience as an inspector of school libraries. His booklet reprinted his speech to the French section of the Canadian Authors Association held at the Château Frontenac, Quebec City, on May 4, 1925, in advance of the Book Week held across the province. Marquis, an entertaining and informative speaker, demonstrated a conversational style and interest in book learning, libraries, and the notion of cultural progress in Quebec. Although he addressed all types of libraries, it was clear throughout his talk that he interpreted ‘public library’ in a broad sense to include municipalities, societies, schools, and parish libraries. Drawing on statistics for 1924 tabulated by the Bureau, he stated there were 1,899 public libraries with holdings of 3,853,815 volumes and pamphlets in the province—the vast majority of which were school libraries. There were 225 parish libraries and just a handful, 30, designated as public libraries (p. 12). By comparison, Marquis used comparative figures from the Ontario Department of Education to calculate that Quebec’s neighbour held 3,315,346 volumes in 466 public libraries (free and association) and 5,645 school libraries, for a total of 6,111 libraries. Marquis suggested his comparison might give pause for consideration because, under Ontario legislation there were 195 free public libraries supported by municipal taxation serving more than 1,500,000 people, i.e. about half the provincial population.

For the most part, in his opening section (pp. 3–7), Marquis provided a reliable account of the growth of private, public, and semi-public libraries from the period of New France to the early 20th century. Major libraries were mainly in Montreal and Quebec City where there were leading figures in religious, educational, or commercial fields. Surprisingly, he does not mention the well-known exploits of Alexandre Vattemare in the early 1840s to establish book exchanges, a program that received much attention at the time. Marquis does highlight the historiography of library related contributions by Eugène Rouillard, Pierre-Georges Roy, Édouard-Zotique Massicotte, Aegidius Fauteux, and the neglected history of Frederick C. Wurtele on the valuable library (still active today) of the Literary and Historical Society of Quebec. A second section (pp. 7–11) summarizes the development of printing, publishing, and book collecting beginning with the Gazette de Québec in 1764. One notable collection, the library of Philéas Gagnon, 8,000 volumes, was purchased for $31,000 and became the property of the Montreal Municipal Library in 1910. The entire collection was a prominent feature of the new Beaux-Arts library opened on Sherbrooke Street East.

The final two sections of Nos bibliothèques publiques provide Marquis’ knowledgeable statistical summary, followed by a concluding part (pp. 14–16) providing some optimism for future progress. He notes current provincial efforts to fund Canadian books for Quebec schools, the efforts of journalists and editors of popular newspapers and periodicals to supply reading for the public and indirectly to promote libraries. He closes by observing that private initiatives strengthened by public assistance can improve present conditions and develop an abundant source of notable Canadian books that would contribute to “les nombreux chefs-d’oeuvre de la littérature française.”

G.-É. Marquis and a Plea for Public Libraries in Quebec, 1946

 

Two decades later, in 1946, Marquis expanded the theme of public libraries more directly. This pamphlet is more polished and displays greater knowledge of librarianship that he gained after a decade in his office as Librarian of the Legislative Library. In his opening, he reaffirmed his life-long love of books, “Sans livres, que ferions-nous pour nous cultiver ou nous évader? me suis-je souventes fois demandé, et c’est pourquoi je m’apitoie sur le sort des populations qui en sont privées.” [Without books, what would we do to cultivate ourselves or to escape? I have often asked myself, and that is why I am sorry for the populations deprived of them.] To bolster his case for the universality of public library development beyond Anglo-American librarianship, Marquis cites an unusual source neglected throughout North America: The League of Nations International Institute of Intellectual Cooperation, which mainly operated from Paris from 1922 to 1946. In 1937, this committee published Mission sociale et intellectuelle des Bibliothèques populaires; Son organisation, ses moyens d'actions that went on record asserting,

Qu’il s’gisse de l'éducation des jeunes, des adultes et de l'auto-éducation, de procurer un simple délassement de l'esprit, d’enseigner, de renseigner, de former ou de distraire, toujours la bibliothèque populaire offre ses ressources, et sa responsabilité s’en augmente d’autant. [Whether or not it is education for young people, adults, and self-education, providing a simple relaxation for the mind, teaching, informing, training, or entertaining, the public library always offers its resources, and its responsibility increases accordingly (p. 5).]

This early mission statement still rings true in 2025. Marquis also credits Andrew Carnegie’s oft-quoted belief that libraries exist to help those who help themselves as well as Jules Ferry, a French statesman and philosopher, who believed that libraries were a vital asset in education. Further, Marquis, employing a much narrower conception of a ‘public library’ than he relied on in 1926, stated there were only six libraries for predominantly English-speaking readers and four serving French-speaking readers (pp. 2–3), admittedly an unpleasant truth. However, he points to positive changing attitudes to public library development pp. 8–9):

• the formation of l’Association des Bibliothécaires catholiques in 1943 and its call for a reorganization of libraries across the province;
• the proposals by the Conseil de l’École des Bibliothécaires de l’Université de Montréal to consider new avenues to improve library services;
• the call for regional library development by the Société d’Éducation des Adultes du Québec, and
• a Montreal city council investigation into the possibility of establishing city branch libraries.

In viewing the broader postwar landscape, Marquis suggests that Quebec’s public library system might be invigorated by potential federal assistance for libraries from Ottawa, especially if they came under the direction of a provincial Department of Public Instruction, based on current denominational lines and free from any political interference (pp.19–11). His proposal looked, in part, to earlier American ideas, but it reflects the fact that Canadian Dominion-Provincial financial relations were under discussion immediately after 1945. A more liberal tone beyond conservative Quebec nationalism is clearly expressed that foreshadows later progressive development (p. 14): “Que Québec me donne des compétences, et j’obtiendrai notre quote-part des faveurs du pouvoir central” [Give me strength in Quebec, and I will get our share of favours from the federal government]. But Marquis asks: where was the leadership to address the question at hand? when might the government act?

 

The writer proposed that knowledgeable library promoters should take the lead by explaining the utility of public libraries to the public through speeches, radio, and publications. Then, the demand for establishing public libraries could be successful and Quebec could keep pace with library progress in the rest of Canada which was increasingly aligned with American librarianship after Word War II.

The power of libraries to benefit society, Marquis opines, is everlasting as a source of learning. He finishes by illustrating his point with the motto beneath a stained-glass window in his legislative library depicting a woman drawing water from a stream — “Je puise mais n’épuise” [I draw, but I do not exhaust (p. 16)].

 

Mostly, Marquis is a minor but not entirely forgotten figure in Canadian librarianship. Gaston Bernier has written about his career at the National Assembly by remarking that he possessed a conservative, military mindset and a standoffish attitude that narrowed his social advancement. Certainly, he did not participate in any degree in library associations, choosing to pursue personal interests that led him to publish more than two dozen small tracts outside the field of libraries. Yet, from the 1920s to the 1940s, his voice advocated for better libraries, especially those supported by municipalities. He wrote at a time when even three prominent Anglophone authors of Libraries in Canada (published in 1933) conceded that the immediate improvement of parish libraries was the most practical step forward for library progress in Quebec due to general political and religious support. After his retirement in 1952, Marquis issued a few publications on Quebec commemorative monuments, Mexico, and his regiment at Lévis. He died in 1960 in Quebec City.

 

An article by Gaston Bernier discussing the tenure of Marquis at the Legislative Library, “Georges-Émile Marquis (1878-1960): un bibliothécaire dynamique mais rébarbatif,” Documentation et bibliothèques 58, 2 (2012): 77–83 is available via Érudit at this link.

 

My earlier blog on Les Bibliothèques Populaires (1890) by Eugène Rouillard is at this link.

 

My blog on Raymond Tanghe and his proposal for Quebec libraries in 1952 is at this link. 

 

Canadian Public LIbraries and the Democratic Belief

The ‘Library Faith’ in Books, Reading, and Democracy

A longstanding belief in the positive influence of the public library in 20th-century North American librarianship was encapsulated in the short term, ‘the library faith,’ a visionary construct best articulated in an examination of public library service commissioned by the American Library Association (ALA), the Public Library Inquiry, which published its research from 1947 to 1952. The Inquiry developed this descriptive model of prevailing beliefs guiding the evolution of public libraries to understand and interpret the past in a structured way. Modelling can be helpful in identifying central ideas, beliefs, and opinions during an era when a prevailing consensus exists within a conceptual framework. The extensive Inquiry study noted that librarians, indeed, many educators and political leaders, believed in the beneficent power of books and reading. Reading was regarded as a crucial element in personal growth and full citizenship.

Ideally, the library, as a responsible democratic institution, provided free access to printed resources of recreation and knowledge to every person in its community, a prime egalitarian impulse. In this process, librarians contributed to the democratic value of life by offering selected sources of knowledge for personal growth and an informed citizenry to make sound judgements in public affairs. As a democratic political institution, the tax-supported public library served broader social and cultural functions by preserving and organizing printed knowledge for its communities and, ultimately, for the nation. Libraries and librarians were a positive force in an effort to transform individuals and society for the better through the power of reading. The ‘library faith’ was interwoven with democratic structures and ideals: free library access, the appetite for public reading, the freedom to exchange ideas and opinions, permissive library legislation, government tax support, and the power of knowledge to contribute to the betterment of society.

However, the Inquiry concluded that libraries too often failed to achieve the ideals described in the library faith, such as being a centre of popular education. The reality of everyday library services in 1950 America, including a limited clientele that read serious books, public apathy, the exclusion of many citizens, a lack of funding, and regional inequities, revealed an institution that did not (and could not) live up to its humanistic articles of faith identified in the Inquiry. For librarians and library users, the library faith was a guiding spirit—a virtue—rather than an everyday reality. Censorship was a common feature in libraries where objectionable books were not purchased or safely relegated to restricted shelves. Many citizens were either not eager readers, preferred ‘lightweight’ literature, or were excluded unjustly. In fact, many American communities were without library services. The Inquiry advised that the library faith was still relevant as a guide for developing services, but less useful as an argument to secure public support. Instead, libraries should fashion clear, uniform statements about the public library’s purpose.

It is axiomatic that democracy means the ‘rule of the people.’ Free and fair elections give expression to the ‘will of the people’ that provides the basis of the authority of government. But there are conflicting viewpoints concerning priorities and perspectives about the use of power and  the actual desires of citizens. Fundamental civil liberties protect against government interference: freedom of speech and the press, freedom of assembly or association, freedom of worship, and equality before the law. Yet, the public regards many civil rights that provide equal treatment under the law as equally important, such as the right to vote and hold free and fair elections, protection from discrimination, various rights of persons before the law, and the right to a public education. In Canada there are a host of problems besetting representative liberal democracy, issues such as blatant racism, discrimination, suppression of minority rights, sexism, alienation, government transparency, hatred, violence, and political corruption. In this environment, educational concerns and the freedom of expression and thought have been central issues in library history. The traditional democratic library role, as expounded by promoters and librarians, has encouraged people to think for themselves and helped them become enlightened citizens. Democracy requires people who understand and believe in its principles and institutions and are determined to work together to preserve, criticize, and improve it as the public interest evolves. Over the course of time, the library’s collections have served as an educational resource, informing citizens, circulating useful knowledge for self-improvement, and incorporating immigrants into the life of the nation. These are desirable roles for fostering and maintaining an educated citizenry in a democracy. But one might question whether an ‘informed citizenry’ is a necessary condition for a democracy or simply wishful thinking.

No comparable national study to the Public Library Inquiry occurred in 20th-century Canada. Even so, there are numerous statements after 1900 that document the commitment to the idealism embodied in the model outlined in the ‘library faith’ and support for democratic ideals. An insightful thesis by John Wiseman in 1989 cited the metaphorical concept of ‘temples of democracy’ to describe the aspirations of Ontario library promoters to bring literature free of charge to the public before 1920. John Hallam and John Taylor, the enthusiastic champions of the free library established in Toronto in 1883, spoke to the need for an intelligent and enlightened populace. Hallam stated, “I know of nothing more useful, nothing more genuinely ornamental or creditable to a community, than the possession of a good free library, by means of which may be enjoyed the productions of the finest minds.” Taylor outlined the progress of public libraries in the United States, and opined: “We cannot, of course, compare Toronto with such cities as Boston and Chicago, but surely we should not be outdone by every small manufacturing town in New England in the matter of intelligence.” 

Ideally, the library was maintained and belonged to the people who benefited equally from the minds of the past through books, newspapers, and journals. In the early development of Canadian free public libraries, successful library referendums on bylaws reflected the ‘will of the people’ who often accepted the underlying utilitarian argument that free access to books in public libraries produced a greater amount of well-being for a greater number of people. When Hamilton ratepayers voted to establish a public library in 1889, the Hamilton Spectator editorial summed up the matter concisely: “It will make the people better able to govern themselves.” The requirement for local plebiscites followed by municipal bylaws to establish public libraries was a standard feature of public library legislation into the second half of the 20th century, augmented by provincial government decisions to convert older mechanics’ institutes and association libraries into public libraries and offer limited financial support.

But the rationale for tax-supported libraries in its formative stage and adequate accommodation for services was sometimes rejected by electors, as in two large Canadian cities, Kingston and Halifax. At Kingston, on 24 September 1899, the Whig-Standard editor complained, “The libraries have not been doing adequate public service, intellectually and as a source of moral recreation. There is a great want in the line of profitable resort [resource] and ready reference.” In Halifax, on 5 November 1912, when the issue of establishing a municipal public library arose at a town hall meeting, library supporters were defeated despite requisite democratic oratory from the noted suffragist, Dr. Eliza Ritchie, the first Canadian to receive a PhD (Cornell University). The Evening Mail reported: “She defined the aim of the citizens’ library as distinctly democratic—that of providing all citizens with the literature they need or desire. It is FOR THE PEOPLE.” Kingston (until 1925) and Halifax (until 1951) continued to resist adequate tax-supported public library service with suitable buildings for many years.

The Democratic Conviction in Canadian Librarianship before 1940

Canadian librarians often relied on the persuasive power of democratic rhetoric to advance the cause of public library development, especially in times of war when the founding principles of democracy faced the prospect of suspension. At the 1916 annual ALA meeting at Ashbury Park, New Jersey, an astute promoter of libraries from Toronto, Edwin Austin Hardy, the secretary of the Ontario Library Association (OLA), told his American audience:
The dynamic of library work is the vision of democracy in the coming years. The present giant struggle will leave no nation untouched. One result will be the rush to North America of millions of new population. Another result will be the recasting of the federal relations within the British Empire. Another will be the revision of the international relations of all the great powers. Who can be sufficient for these mighty tasks of the future? An enlightened and ennobled democracy, of sound knowledge, wide sympathy and broad vision can render the highest service in the great days to come. The United States and the Dominion of Canada must be such democracies and the librarian must rank alongside the teacher, the legislator, and the preacher in the making of the new world.

In 1918, another prominent librarian, Mary J.L. Black, told her OLA colleagues:
If a library is not an embodiment of democracy and universal in its service, it is not fulfilling its functions. As a democratic institution the public library stands alone. In it, the scholar and ditcher, the school boy and the society dame are on an equal footing, and service should be rendered them accordingly. In it, the monetary relationship does not exist, for the public are only coming to their own, and if it does not contain material that is of special interest to each one of them, then they indeed have a grievance.

She was not alone in espousing the value of free access to resources. Another early instance was a presidential speech by Helen Gordon Stewart, Victoria Public Library, to the Pacific Northwest Library Association in Spokane, 1921.
There is no way of telling truth from error, but the best test of the power of a truth is to get itself accepted in free competition in the market place, and the Public Library should be the intellectual market place of every community. Democracy needs all the ideas it can get, and a stuffed press or a stuffed library, instead of safeguarding civilization, lead to atrophy and decay.

The democratic theme, coupled with the power of reading, was a key argument to establish public libraries. In 1927, when Canada celebrated its sixtieth anniversary by asserting its national identity more confidently, the Fort William (now Thunder Bay) library entered a parade float with the popular verse, “Books are keys to wisdom’s treasure.” This phrase came from a short rhyme by the American author, Emilie Poulsson, which included another expression librarians often employed to draw attention to entertaining literature: “books are gates to lands of pleasure.” When economic conditions worsened in the 1930s and threatened the economic livelihood of many people, librarians reinforced their ties with democratic ideals and public education. Foremost was George Locke, chief librarian of Toronto Public Library, who declared in 1933, “It is as necessary to provide for adult education as for elementary education, and so the library and the school are necessary for the perpetuation of democracy.”

Locke and Mary Black, together with John Ridington, included multiple references to democracy in their Carnegie financed commission survey of libraries published in 1933, Libraries in Canada. They put the case for the public library:
The realization that, by ten thousand people each paying the cost of a single book, to be kept available for all in a general collection, each contributor would have access to ten thousand volumes, long ago commended itself to general public judgment as a worthwhile piece of co-operation. This realization is the foundation on which the public library is built—and that foundation is as broad and as strong as democracy itself. (p. 9)
They also contended that the library’s resources for reading were a force for personal development and societal good:
...if it is recognized that no one can be educated without books, it inevitably follows that a government should put libraries in the same class with schools, making both compulsory. This contention rests on the basis that modern thought realizes that education of all the people is necessary to the preservation and the permanence of a democratic form of government. (p. 135)

Yet the democratic spirit did not appeal to everyone, and successes were few outside major cities. As the 1933 survey admitted, three-fourths of Canada’s population of 10,500,000 were without public library service of any kind at a time when the rise of ruthless authoritarian regimes threatened the tenets of democracy itself. The depression era devastated national economies on a global scale, thereby halting opportunities for library growth. Cooperative partnerships were one solution with the development of regional library systems through local referendums, being most evident in British Columbia. The American economist, Alvin S. Johnson, reinforced another response in 1938. He authored The Public Library—A People's University, giving greater currency to an earlier phrase, and he devoted an entire chapter to “The Public Library in a Democracy.” He called upon librarians to be more proactive in educating adults to be knowledgeable citizens, to go beyond book lending and to withstand pressure to provide ephemeral publications. The phrase gained popularity with librarians, but the outbreak of war dimmed immediate prospects for improvement.

Changing Perceptions after 1940

The Second World War was a struggle for freedom and a dramatic period of change for Canada and America. During the war, Canada emerged as a prosperous nation by producing weapons, ships, airplanes, vehicles, and agricultural products for itself and for its allies. Canadians realized that peaceful international relations were vital for their security and came to regard the United States as their primary ally. In May 1940, the Librarian of Congress, Archibald MacLeish, issued an influential paper to ALA members that argued librarians should become stronger agents of democracy and assume a more vital role in civic life. Earlier in March, at the annual OLA conference, the president, Kathleen Moyer Elliot, addressed the theme of ‘The Library and the Community,’ stressing interaction with people and suggesting a refashioning of the ‘library faith’ by placing more emphasis on community involvement.
But while Books for People as a fundamental purpose of libraries has remained unchanged through the years in which both the character and the care of book collections have changed greatly, the emphasis has shifted. Once it was on Books, now it is on People.
Liberal librarians, believing in the importance of the individual, encouraging every man to read as widely as he will and form his own opinions, are defenders of democracy.

In 1941, a few leaders formed a small national body, the Canadian Library Council, to expedite progress in the library field. It issued a pamphlet, Canada Needs Libraries, in 1945, stating that the library possessed resources and educative and recreational potential for all ages. In short, “it has a very special part to play in the life of the community which no other agency can fill.”
...the information and enlightenment oi the people of Canada from printed sources is a vital force in the growth of the intelligence, character, economic advancement, and cultural life of the nation. An adequate supply oi books should be available to all citizens, whatever their geographical location or economic status.

In a review of Canadian trends for the Wilson Library Bulletin in November 1944, a Windsor librarian, Eleanor Barteaux, reiterated confidence in the beneficial association of books and democratic well-being that librarians were attempting to achieve.
Librarians know from past experience that when this war is over, there will be an abnormally large demand for library service of all kinds in all the provinces. Upon this postwar library, in a country where democracy is the way of life, must fall the task of providing the materials for continuing education and intellectual recreation for an enlightened citizenry.

In another booklet, The Public Library (1944) by Angus Mowat, the inspector of public libraries for Ontario, also outlined of a broader vision—the value of libraries to communities and organizations. By developing reliable resources for carrying on more active adult education programs with other agencies, public libraries could become “an essential sinew in the body of community life.” He said,
The free public library belongs to the community and it is supported by the community, just as the school, fire, and police services are supported. This is the normal and intelligent practice in a democracy. Not all libraries are successful but the free public library has an infinitely greater chance of success than has the association library.

Another cornerstone of the library faith came under scrutiny by John Grierson, the dynamic Commissioner of the National Film Board of Canada from 1939–45. The NFB had produced a documentary, the Library on Wheels, in 1944, demonstrating how bookmobiles could serve twenty rural communities in the Fraser Valley region of British Columbia. In an address to American and Canadian librarians at Buffalo in June 1946, Grierson warned, “the old library outlook is over and done with.” He challenged the primacy of the book and the passive role of simply circulating resources and dispensing information. He suggested librarians adopt new methods to spread popular education by reaching out to community organizations and being more proactive beyond the confines of library buildings. 
I do not say that the day of the book is over, but the day of the book only is certainly over. It is not information that is needed today; in fact, it is not information that is sought. It is enlightenment, and that is a very different thing involving, as it does, the dramatic process of sparking the mind and the heart into new hope, new vision, new realization, and new efforts in citizenship.
You can no longer think that the work is done if the information is made available or even conveyed. The work is not done until we spark the gap between the citizen and the world of his citizenship, bring into his imagination the great and beneficent struggle of man which we see today, and finally secure his creative participation in that struggle.

Writing in the Canadian Forum in July 1946, Nora Bateson, a champion for regional library development, argued for the need to employ modern methods of communication to reach rural communities, nonusers, and underserved groups. She reflected on the value of the older concept of using books to edify the public:
In less turbulent days it was another function of the library that was usually put first and it is still as important as it ever was: the enriching of individual lives in a thousand quiet ways. In literature, art, philosophy, science, history, many find their delight and refreshment. One of the more tangible effects of such reading is that it makes people live more fully, enables them to see more and deeper meaning in their own lives and experiences. And the largest possible number of fully developed individuals is the aim of any robust democracy.

Library recruitment, 1945

 As the national population grew and the pace of life picked up in postwar Canada, public libraries sought to expand their range of services. The establishment of new regional systems and library outreach were noticeable features. More effort was made to reach non-users (the majority) or underserved rural populations. Public relations, attendance at community events, in-house film festivals, park programs, partnerships with groups, work with hospitals, and delivery of books to people with disabilities. Libraries placed greater emphasis on language resources and sponsored classes for immigrants because ‘New Canadians’ sought assistance in their new homeland. The concept of the library as a major hub for community activity beyond book lending was taking a firmer hold. It became a place where adults and children could discover books, films, radio programs, recordings, educational television broadcasts, or newspapers, thus satisfying their desire to learn. It was becoming in the popular parlance, a people place, and the University of Toronto created a recruitment poster with an expression that took hold: “You like people, you like books.” In 1949, the Canadian Library Association (CLA) inaugurated Young Canada’s Book Week to promote good reading, cultivate personal values, and introduce children to Canadian literary authors. The Book Week national campaign unabashedly aimed to inspire a love of reading by connecting children with authors and illustrators through communal events, such as essay and poster competitions.

In a conservative era, the older reliance on the enlightening power of books and the democratic theme retained some currency in library thinking. When the Canadian Library Association issued Suggested Standards of Service for Public Libraries in Canada in 1955, the National Librarian, William K. Lamb, introduced the guidelines using a familiar theme:
In the world in which we live, adequate library service is becoming more and more vital. Few institutions can make a greater contribution to democracy than an adequately staffed and equipped public library. It offers wide opportunities for general education, ready access to books expressing varied points of view on questions of the day, vocational help of many kinds, books on all sorts of hobbies and handicrafts, and a wide range of recreational reading. It can help to make our working hours more effective and successful, and to ensure that leisure time is passed in some pleasant and socially desirable way.
Nevertheless, the brief purpose statement in the 1955 standards did not reference a democratic theme. It relied on the utilitarian principle: “the basic purpose of public library service is to provide a sufficient number of books of quality, so housed and organized, and with their use so promoted, that they reach the greatest possible number of people, thus making their local contribution to the education and to the cultural growth of the community.”

Informed Citizenship through Intellectual Freedom

Through the 1950s and 1960s, reliance on the efficacy of books diminished as it became evident that libraries were avoiding the selection of objectionable or controversial literature that some citizens would prefer to borrow or consult. In 1951, the newly formed OLA Intellectual Freedom Committee tendered a resolution, which was successfully passed at the general meeting, requesting that the CLA adopt a Canadian Library Bill of Rights that all Canadian libraries might embrace. But the proposal was not acted upon: librarians were reluctant to investigate self-censorship in book selection. In principle, the CLA opposed official censorship. In April 1953, the association forwarded a brief to the Senate Special Committee studying ‘salacious and indecent literature’ criticizing the prohibitive government approach used to censor books. The prevailing attitude to book selection often crystallized around the mindset that the antidote for bad books was good book selection and the establishment of more libraries across the country to supply acceptable literature. The 1955 CLA Standards provided a succinct summary: “A high quality of book selection is assumed.”

The practical matter of localized adult services and programs for groups resonated more strongly, driven by planned community needs and cooperation with other agencies. Librarians were more inclined to curtail interest in individual ‘readers’ advisory’ work and emphasize literacy and basic lifelong adult education programming. The promotion of an enlightened citizenship and assistance in realizing democratic ideals was melded with more functional, systematic goals as specialized services developed. The formal expression of these trends appeared in the revised CLA standards of 1967, which provided an expanded statement of the purpose and objectives of a Canadian public library:

1. To provide opportunity and encouragement for continuous education for every individual in the community—children, young people, men and women.
2. Through guidance, stimulation, and communication of ideas, to promote an enlightened and enriched citizenry.
3. To assemble, preserve and administer in organized collections the library's print and non-print materials to support the educational, cultural and recreational program of the community.
4. To provide an accurate, reliable information service.
5. To support and co-operate with groups and organizations in the community in presenting educational and cultural programs.

But the most important change in library thinking for engaging an informed citizenry came with the CLA’s adoption of a statement in support of intellectual freedom in 1966. There was growing realization that public libraries sometimes acted as an obstacle to free democratic debate and open expression of ideas precisely through the composition of collections and delivery of services. Canadian librarians had not been outspoken advocates in resisting censorship until they adopted the precept that access to the broadest range of ideas coupled with the rights of readers was essential in a democratic society: “Intellectual Freedom comprehends the right of every person (in the legal meaning of the term), subject to reasonable requirements of public order, to have access to all expressions of knowledge and intellectual creativity, and to express his thoughts publicly.”

For decades, Canadian librarians had been reluctant to uphold freedom of expression and thought formally. They adhered to restrictive ‘community standards’ and believed the perfunctory lending of good books and reliance on democratic rhetoric would suffice to improve society and validate the library’s standing as a fundamental service. Intellectual freedom was a significant accomplishment of librarianship that marked a dramatic shift to linking libraries more closely to democratic freedom of expression, thought, and opinion by supporting the lawful diffusion of ideas and information without restriction. It had evolved in part from the beliefs associated with the concept of the ‘library faith,’ but moved far beyond its simpler comforts. Into the 21st century, the contribution public libraries make to offer citizens access to all points of view continues to be considered a vital (but difficult to achieve) component in supporting and encouraging democracy. 

My previous blogs are available on John Hallam and John Taylor.

The blog on the 1966 CLA intellectual freedom statement is at this link.

The blog on the 1933 Libraries in Canada commission is at this link.

My blog about the Canadian Library Council’s Canada Needs Libraries (1945).

My blog on the issue to counter undesirable literature in postwar Canada is at this link. 

Three Early Maritime Memorial Libraries at Dalhousie, Acadia, and Mount Allison

College and university education evolved slowly in the Canadian Maritime provinces before 1900. By the time of the First World War, Dalhousie was the most prominent university in the region. Established in Halifax in 1818, it began to expand after 1911 when it relocated to the more spacious Studley campus where much-needed new buildings could be constructed. By this time, two other smaller, distinguished liberal arts universities had also gained prominence: Acadia in Wolfville, Nova Scotia, and Mount Allison in Sackville, New Brunswick. Acadia was established in 1838 and began to grow in the early 20th century. Mount Allison, founded in 1839, was noted for being the first university in the British Empire to award a bachelor’s degree to a woman as early as 1875. Collections at all three institutions were relatively small. When James Bain reviewed library progress across Canada in 1895, he reported that Dalhousie (college) held 20,000 volumes, Mount Allison held 4,500 volumes, and Acadia held 3,850 volumes. Prior to 1914, the three institutions shared a common problem—there was no separate building for library purposes, although university officials and alumni alike acknowledged the necessity of erecting one.

The Macdonald Memorial Library, Dalhousie University, 1915

 

Macdonald Memorial Library sketch by Arthur Lismer, c.1918

The largest university library building in the Maritimes in the first half of the 20th century was named for Charles MacDonald, a mathematics professor at Dalhousie from 1864–1901. After he bequeathed the university $2000 to purchase library books, a memorial fund in his name had succeeded in raising this amount to $33,000 by 1905. Progress stalled at this point because no suitable location was available for constructing a library. But the acquisition of the Studley estate in 1911 cleared the way to proceed. Officials laid a cornerstone in the spring of 1914 and construction was completed by the fall of 1915. Andrew R. Cobb (1876–1943) of Halifax and Frank Darling (1850–1923) of Toronto, who served as consultant, were the design architects. Andrew Cobb would figure prominently in all three Maritime memorial libraries. The influence of the Georgian style is evident in the rectangular dimensions, columned portico, Palladian window, and classical exterior symmetry of Andrew Cobb’s design. These exterior elements exhibited a heritage of order and balance rather than monumentality. The small building cost $90,000 and was ready for students by the summer of 1916. By necessity, the library contained only a few offices, limited work space for staff, and a reading room on the second floor. The catastrophic explosion of two ships in Halifax Harbour in December 1917 briefly damaged the reading room before its restoration.

In a unique (and fortuitous) circumstance in Canadian library history, Arthur Lismer, one of the distinguished Group of Seven artists, created three sketches of the Macdonald Library in 1918 for a publication to mark the centennial anniversary of the university, One Hundred Years of Dalhousie, 1818-1918. His sketches of the exterior, especially the columned portico entrance, highlighted the elegant stone facing that conveyed a rustic style, a feature of the Studley campus buildings that Frank Darling and Andrew Cobb designed. Local quarries provided the dark grey limestone for the library which featured a variety of encrusted red and brown salts that added colour and texture to the building. Two classrooms located in the entrance hallway on the first floor were used for teaching purposes. The attractive reading room on the second floor was almost 3,000 sq. ft. in size (90 ft. x 32 ft.) and featured fireplaces at each end. Bookcases along the wall held the reference collection. An office for the University Librarian, Archibald MacMeachen, was also located on the second floor. He wrote in the Dalhousie Gazette on October 27, 1915, that “No finer memorial for a college teacher can be imagined than a building devoted generation after generation to the sacred work of teaching.” Indeed, the building continued in use as the main library until its replacement by the Killam Library in 1971.

When the library first opened, only a small collection existed on site and a decision was made to recatalogue materials by using the Library of Congress system. It was not until 1921 that a five-storey expansion added book stacks to the rear on the north side. However, even this added shelving for 125,000 books was insufficient. As a consequence, scientific volumes were located in departmental libraries for chemistry, physics, and geology. When Philip Turner, a lecturer at McGill University, reviewed Canadian university libraries in 1931, he published updated floor plans for the library. At this time, Macdonald was a closed stack library, a typical arrangement in many instances. Two years later, in the national study, Libraries in Canada, headed by John Ridington, it was recorded that Dalhousie held some noteworthy special collections, especially the J. D. Logan Collection of Canadian literature, the Stewart Collection of Canadiana, and the Thompson Library of Dramatic Literature. By this time, the library was operating its popular Patterson Travelling Library service that furnished small boxes of books for many Maritime communities, a service that continued until the mid-1950s.

There was a further addition to the building on the west side in 1956. This new wing was opened to alleviate space problems on a temporary basis: it housed the Kipling Room, a notable collection of Rudyard Kipling’s works recently donated to the university. When the modern Killam Memorial Library opened in 1971, the older Macdonald Memorial Library continued to serve as a science library before its collection was relocated again. In the 1990s, the former stack rooms of the Macdonald Building were converted into administrative offices and the reading room was refitted as a meeting space for various events.

Emmerson Memorial Library, Acadia University, 1914

The Emmerson Memorial Library in Acadia University opened in 1914 and was formally dedicated in June 1915 by Charles H. Gould, McGill’s University Librarian. The library, constructed with stone fashioned with brown and olive sandstone trim, was designed to accommodate 125,000 volumes in steel stacks. Designed by the architect Andrew Cobb from Halifax, the building was named for Rev. Robert H. Emmerson (1826–1857), an influential New Brunswick Baptist minister whose family donated $25,000 towards building a suitable memorial. Cobb planned Emmerson as a two-storey, stone building in the Italianate style featuring wide eaves supported by large brackets and a low-pitched hip roof topped with a small cupola. Two Doric columns flanked the entrance steps with a copper seal of the University crest embedded above the door surmounted by a stone transom and window. Large three-bay Palladian windows on each side allowed for exterior lighting to flood the interior.

The library featured comfortable reading rooms, study alcoves, areas for special collections and staff processing of materials. The collection of about 20,000 volumes was initially classified using the Dewey Decimal system and accessed through a dictionary catalogue. On Sundays, the reading room was given over to students to listen to and reflect on talks by professors. After the library officially opened, several special collections were acquired. A collection of Canadiana was purchased from Major J.P. Edwards in 1917, and the collection renamed in memory of Eric R. Dennis. Two other collections, the John D. Logan Collection of Canadian Literature and the William Inglis Morse Collection, followed. The Emmerson reading room was the site of a meeting in April 1918 leading to the creation of the first Maritime Library Association with a small membership.

Mary Kinley Ingraham joined Acadia in 1917 as the new chief librarian and remained until her retirement in 1944. During her distinguished tenure, Acadia’s library underwent significant growth with expanded circulating holdings, special collections, and enhanced library services for students and faculty. In 1930 and 1931, Acadia operated two book trucks fitted out to carry about 1,500 books to numerous stations where exchanges could be made. However, financial constraints in the Great Depression ended the bookmobile service, although community groups continued to access books through loans of boxes.

With increasing enrollment and modernized library service in the 1960s, Acadia realized a new library building was necessary. Fortunately, a generous donation from Harold S. Vaughan began the planning process for a new library in memory of his son, Harold C. Vaughan. In 1965, the Vaughan Memorial Library opened and the aged Emmerson Library was converted into classrooms and offices for the School of Education in 1967, becoming known as the current Emmerson Hall.

Mount Allison Memorial Library, 1927

Mount Allison Memorial Library, n.d.

A third memorial library opened in June 1927 at the Sackville, New Brunswick, campus of Mount Allison. It originally was proposed as a memorial to the Mount Allison students, faculty, and alumni who had died during the First World War, and as funds accumulated, construction began in 1926. Andrew Cobb reprised his earlier efforts as the building architect, and on this occasion he chose to display a three-storey Tudor revival style exterior. The building cost $110,000 and was designed to hold 60-70,000 volumes in the rear five-storey stack room with the potential for expansion. Red Sackville stone was employed for the outside, with Dorchester olive stone for the trimmings. The entrance doorway featured a notched roof porch that offered patrons the impression of a safe castle-like setting.

Astride the front entrance, the memorial hall exhibited plaques recording fallen university soldiers from the Great War. Additionally, two rooms were designated for historical records containing valuable documents, books and selected archives. A stack space was situated at the rear beside the main staircase. Small offices and study rooms were located towards the front facade. Of special note was the Mary Mellish Archibald Memorial collection featuring resources devoted to art, music, household science, and modern literature. The basement rooms contained a workroom, business office, unpacking room, lavatories, and stacks space. The second floor was dedicated to a large reading room (80 ft. x 36 ft.) flanked by wall shelving with seating accommodation for about 150 students. A catalogue was available, and a circulation control desk located at the back of the reading room.  

At its opening, the library held about 15,000 books but the collection naturally grew in size until the stacks reached capacity. Even with the addition of an annex in 1960, student enrollment and university expansion required a new building. When the Ralph Pickard Bell Library opened in 1970, the Memorial Library was renovated to become the University Centre, a popular, functional student home for decades. However, following a controversial administrative decision, in 2011 the building was completely demolished to make way for a new state-of-the-art fine arts and performance facility. The original memorial tablet was reassigned to the main floor of the Wallace McCain Student Centre in 2008, together with other tables listing casualties from other wars. Veterans Affairs Canada has a site displaying these plaques.

University Libraries and Memorialization

These three memorial libraries connect the enduring idea of the library as a meaningful tribute to deceased persons and families to a legacy of community and knowledge. Memorializing campus buildings such as libraries was a well-established practice in America and Britain long before its adoption in Canada. The earliest and foremost instance was the McGill University Library which opened in 1893; it was a gift of Peter and Grace Redpath and named accordingly. Universities were eager to preserve their history, achievements, and benefactors. Family members, too, believed memorialization provided a material way to acknowledge and commemorate loved ones. The symbolic linkage of a person’s life in a shared library space provided a continuous tribute that informed and serviced students, faculty, and the university community. It was a tangible way to connect the university community with important people through shared experiences and legacies.

Mount Allison chose to commemorate soldiers lost in the Great War, 1914–18. Dalhousie and Acadia honoured individuals who had made significant contributions in education and religion. Individual and family donors combined with fundraising efforts and, eventually, institutional revenue, reflected the era of generosity Andrew Carnegie fostered in the public library sector during the first decades of the 20th century. While the former libraries are no longer part of contemporary Maritime or Canadian library activity or modern library networking, they marked the beginning of significant donations for university libraries and for memorial naming conventions that persisted across Canada in the 20th century. In that aspect, these libraries stand as historic memorials in their own right.

A Wikipedia article on the impressive career of Andrew R. Cobb is at this link.

My previous blog on Mary Kinley Ingraham is at this link.

An article with historical photographs of the Macdonald Library is at this link.

An Acadia article on the Emmerson Library is at this link.

 A Mount Allison article on its memorial library is at this link.