A Legend

As we do not suppose all our readers delve into miscellaneous philosophy, we venture to reprint the following touching anecdote; which, however, will doubtless appeal principally to those acquainted with the regime governing the old Library. Searchers after further truth may consult A. D. Ritchie's Scientific Method.—Editor.

"Once long ago (the precise dale escapes my memory) a new Librarian was appointed to a certain Library. One morning it occurred to him to examine the catalogue. After some study he turned to an assistant who chanced to be present, and said: 'I do not think I like this book very much. It is a fallacious and, in a sense, inaccurate document, and what information it contains is trivial. I see nothing said about any book except the author's name, the title, the size of the book, and trifles of that sort. Everything mentioned in here is to be found in the book itself, and much more beside that is of greater interest. What is put down is correct enough, I suppose, as far as it goes; but to my mind 'suppressio veri' is just as misleading as 'suggestio falsi'; worse, in fact, because the deception is subtler. Suppose, now, we abolished the catalogue—' 'Oh, sir,' interrupted the assistant, 'the catalogue is indispensable—it gives the class-marks of the books.' 'So I have observed,' replied the Librarian with scorn; 'but they are likewise to be found on the books.' 'But how,' wailed the assistant, 'but how are readers to find the books?' 'As they do now,' the Librarian said, fixing the assistant with a look, as of the stony basilisk, 'by looking on the shelves!' The assistant fainted. The Librarian, who was really quite a kindly man, had him taken out into the fresh air, where he slowly recovered. In the meanwhile the catalogue was burnt. All the events occurred a long while ago, as I have mentioned."