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Prominence is given in this issue to the interesting Diamond Jubilee celebration held last month in connection with the Norwich Public Library. It was a courageous but entirely proper thing to hold this celebration in war time, because although it was calculated to raise opposition from short‐sighted people, at the same time it was good policy to affirm that the Public Library is an essential part of national economy even in the greatest of wars. Excellent arguments on behalf of this last proposition were advanced at that meeting in the happy speech made by Mr. L. Stanley Jast, which we hope to see published in even fuller form sooner or later, and equally in the letter from Sir Frederic Kenyon. This gains greatly in force from the fact that Sir Frederic is not only an officer in the Army, but is, we believe, at this moment serving in France. If any of our readers have had doubts about the present seasonableness of their work, and there may conceivably be such, they may wisely ponder the letter and again take heart of grace. As for the celebration as a whole, it was, as we have said, opportune; it was also skilfully engineered and advertised, and was an undoubted success upon which the Norwich Library Committee and Mr. G. A. Stephen have every reason to congratulate themselves.

THE curtain has now been rung down on the Jubilee of the Library Association and all who witnessed or took part in the performance will agree that the show was good. The setting of the scene in so beautiful a city, the lavish and dignified hospitality, the fine and sympathetic chairmanship of the new President, the general good‐humoured seriousness of the discussions—all these things will remain to make the Edinburgh Conference the most memorable in our annals. The Conference was not only nation‐wide and empire‐wide—it was world‐wide; and several languages and many accents were heard. Librarians of great fame, who hitherto have been names only, became known friends within the week.

THE Fifty‐First Conference of the Library Association takes place in the most modern type of British town. Blackpool is a typical growth of the past fifty years or so, rising from the greater value placed upon the recreations of the people in recent decades. It has the name of the pleasure city of the north, a huge caravansary into which the large industrial cities empty themselves at the holiday seasons. But Blackpool is more than that; it is a town with a vibrating local life of its own; it has its intellectual side even if the casual visitor does not always see it as readily as he does the attractions of the front. A week can be spent profitably there even by the mere intellectualist.

AS this number appears at a time when it is impossible to give any account of the Library Association Conference, we have turned aside from conference subjects to some of our more usual matters. In our next issue we hope to give adequate impressions of what promises to be a really interesting and productive meeting.

THE New Year will be momentous, whatever its course. The old one prepared us for that. Our space restrictions preclude more than the briefest glance over 1941. It was in some ways a year of destruction, as it was a year of holding on, and few thought it would end quite as favourably as it has done. Fine libraries have been destroyed, more have suffered damage, staffs have been depleted, and still more workers deflected to jobs thought to be more immediate. On the other hand, there has been at least verbal recognition by Government departments of the usefulness of libraries, even if it was accompanied by concessions that were of small value, as for example the postponement of the call up of an essential librarian for three months in order, forsooth, that his successor might be trained—an impossibility. There has been an enormous public use of libraries, which assures us that in the after‐war social structure our place is as certain as things human can be.

THIS journal is not devoted exclusively to public libraries; they are only part of the library fabric but, because the preponderant number of workers in our craft are in public libraries, they and their work naturally occur more often in our pages than do those of others. We have always urged that the profession is indivisable and that a librarian is a person who, in his fundamental training, should be equipped to serve in any kind of library. The tendency to create distinctions, based upon slight—and they usually are slight—differences of work, are unfortunate and have led to bickerings and sometimes recriminations. Even between the two arms of the public library service, the county and the urban, there has been an emphasis on the differences rather than the likenesses; and every wise librarian knows that the services of a fully‐engaged library in a town are exactly the same as those of a county except that the county has to cover longer distances. The emphasis is even stronger where public and nonpublic libraries are in question.

THIS scheme of exact classification has now been long enough upon trial to justify the publication of a few explanatory notes, adjustments, and revisions which may be useful to present and future users of the system. For an entirely new scheme, which to some extent broke fresh ground, its reception has been extremely kind and flattering, and although it has not escaped criticism, nothing has appeared which has been anything but reasonable and helpful. A surprising circumstance has been that, notwithstanding the very controversial nature of much of the subject, so few points of difference have appeared. These are all more or less directed against the mere placing of certain topics and do not to any extent reflect upon the theory or structure of the system as a whole. One mistake has been made, however, of a more important nature, but this must have arisen either through misapprehension or carelessness. It has been assumed that the Subject Classification claims to be thoroughly scientific, and that each class is arranged in a logical and evolutionary order, so as to modulate or merge naturally into its successor. Any modest claim which may have been made to an attempted logical order is invariably qualified by a statement in the “Introduction” to the effect that such perfect order is only to be expected to a very limited extent. On page eight it is stated that—“The departments of human knowledge are so numerous, their intersections so great, their changes so frequent, and their variety so confusing, that it is impossible to show that they proceed from one source or germ, or that they can be arranged so that each enquirer will find the complete literature of his special subject at one fixed place.” All through the tables and the introduction the same kind of limitation is insisted upon, and it can only be due to misunderstanding to say that I have made such a preposterous claim to sequential perfection. No librarian who has attempted to compile a system of exact classification would ever dream of claiming that he did more than get as near as possible to an ideal arrangement in accordance with his basal plan.

THE elevation of Dr. Temple to the Archbishopric of Canterbury will give great satisfaction to all librarians as well as to all who care for education and progressive thought. No doubt his Presidency of the Library Association was for him merely a fugitive episode in a career which his successor in that office described as processional, but during that year nevertheless he gave us a fine address, attended several meetings with a charm, urbanity and wisdom which all remember, and performed such offices as the opening of new libraries, the signing of diplomas and writing so many letters of congratulation to towns providing new libraries that he said he was perforce bound to make them very short—“concentrated congratulations or potted cordiality” he called them. His excellent stories at the Annual Dinner at Scarborough will not easily be forgotten by those who heard them. He is exactly at the time of life to take on the onerous duties of his great office, and as we have said librarians in their quiet sphere rejoice in the event.

LIBRARIES in War have, alas, been too often the theme of this and other library magazines owing to the times in which men and women of middle age have had to live. To‐day, even younger ones can see some reflection of the atmosphere, because they have been brought up in a pervading spirit of threats and preparations; insomuch—and this is the tragedy of i t—they ask “What is the good of preparing for life in this world when we are likely to be bombed out of it at any moment?” There is much good, because, even if the ultimate tragedy came, England and the majority of us would survive; and the world must go on. It is a descent from this perhaps grand attitude to the thought that less money may be available for libraries for the time being. We know that rates are rising in many places, owing to unemployment relief needs and A.R.P. demands, but there is the consolation that last year many new libraries were opened. It may be a result of the truth that never are libraries more needed than in hours of stress.

The aim of this publication is to list the catalogues of the Department of Manuscripts which are in regular use. Catalogues which have been superseded by later publications are not normally included, since whatever their historical or bibliographical interest they are no longer everyday working tools. To save space in cross‐reference, the catalogues, etc., here listed have been numbered serially in Clarendon type, thus: 31. This numeration has no other significance.