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One of Her Britannic Majesty's Ministers hanging about outside the Council Chamber while it is deliberated within whether or not Britain is to be admitted to the not so Common Market must present a picture never‐to‐be‐forgotten. Public officers, of course, are accus‐tomed to this when attending selection interviews for appointments, but such experiences invariably make us feel a little like “poor relations.” The controversy of whether we are “in” or “out” then is settled—and we must be under no delusions—for a very long time. As we see it, the French want the densely populated area of Western Europe as an agricultural market for themselves alone. They appeared to be willing to let Denmark in, but they have no intention of letting Britain in to bring the vast Commonwealth agricultural exports with them, via the back door, so to speak. That is the position now and even when “all the kings depart”, it will not change.

The more recent history of the National Health Service, especially the Hospital Service, has been in the nature of a lumbering from one crisis to another. From the moment of its inception it has proved far more costly than estimated and over‐administered, but in the early years, it had great promise and was efficient at ward level, which continued until more recent times. As costs increased and administration grew and grew, much of it serving no useful purpose, there appeared to be a need for reorganisation. In 1974, a three‐tier structure was introduced by the establishment of new area health authorities, the primary object of which was to facilitate — and cheapen — decision making; to give the district bodies and personnel easier access to “management”. It coincided with reorganisation of Local Government, which included the transfer of all the personal health services and abolition of the office of medical officer of health. At the time and in looking back, there was very little need for this and reviewing the progress and advances made in local government, medical officers of health who had advocated the transfer, mainly for reasons of their own status, would have achieved this and more by remainining in the local government service; the majority of health visitors appear to have reached the same conclusion. They constitute a profession within themselves and in truth do not have all that much in common with day‐to‐day nursing. The basic training and nursing qualification is most essential, however. It has been said that a person is only as good a health visitor as she is a nurse.

The Professors of the Imperial College of Science and Technology have addressed to Lord Crewe, the Chairman of the Governors of the College, a memorial urging the necessity of the encouragement of science and of research. In commenting upon this document the Journal of Chemical Technology observes that “a satisfactory feature of the memorial is the recognition on the part of the signatories that scientific education should be on broad lines.” “We have always contended that an indispensable preliminary to a professional career should be a thoroughly sound general education. Whether or not the study of science is the best kind of study may be a debatable point, but it is certain that exclusive attention to science is thoroughly bad. A man's mind is narrow when he is unable to recognise the importance of things outside his own particular sphere of action, and it is precisely this state of mind that the exclusive study of science tends to produce. It is, therefore, the more necessary, in seeking to secure greater attention to scientific studies in the reform of our educational system, to take care that nothing be done which may curtail the period required for the acquisition of general knowledge. It is far better to delay than to hasten specialisation. A step in the right direction has been made when scientific men themselves state that they do not believe that “an education which includes good teaching of science need be a narrow education,” but we wish that this opinion had been positively rather than negatively expressed. The memorial refers to the “lethargy, misconception, and ignorance” of the public regarding national education. It is pertinent here to remark that when anything goes wrong and no particular individual or individuals can be held to be, or will acknowledge themselves to be, responsible, the “public” is blamed; the public being everybody with the exception of the denunciator and his friends. In the present instance the fault is not, even for the greater part, with the people. They are, naturally enough, interested in education only in so far as it is expressed in terms of school and college accounts and of wage‐earning capacity. Of the bearing that improvement in education and the advancement of physical science has on the welfare of the community the average man knows little and cares less. He has to be educated in the value of education. He is not, and probably never will be, interested in education as an abstract good. What interest he has in it is purely utilitarian. If he sees that the knowledge which he himself does not possess carries with it but doubtful prospects for the future, poor remuneration in the present and a social position little better than his own, he is unlikely to be impressed with the value of education. The fact is that there is a lamentable want of opportunity for the intellectual classes in this country and until this state of things is remedied the public will continue to display—and with every justification — “lethargy, misconception, and ignorance” in respect to national education.

In my training commentary in our November issue I suggested a basic information kit on worker participation. Since then a new survey, of major importance, has been published and should be added to the list.

IT is heartening to librarians who begin a winter's work to read more personally a few recent conference utterances. In the changing pattern of contemporary life the library has become an indispensable ingredient and not merely an ornament or an amenity, although it may also be that. Such a phrase, uttered fifty years ago, would have been met with a curl of contempt upon the lip of most hearers—so we are told. But that was the effect of Sir Philip Morris's conference address, to which we have turned again with profit. Yet before our complacency grows we may also note his view that, while modern life without libraries is impossible, our tendencies hitherto have been unplanned and this is a source of strength not without its dangers. When such statements are made there seems a certain vagueness about them. We recall that young librarians were not admitted to the special abbreviated matriculation that was available to others after the first World War because they “were not an organized profession.” With our Association, Charter, Examinations, and Diplomas, which such a decision then ignored, many were left wondering what the word organized meant. If we are unplanned, or have been, in what way are we so? Every year, indeed, increases the appropriateness of our training and testing systems, and their difficulty. Every year sees the recognition of the unity in librarianship in spite of the superficial differences we deal with below; every year sees the development of library research, intercommunication and almost universal co‐operation. As for differences, Mr. F. C. Francis in his eloquent address stressed the need for a flexible, genial individualism in libraries. Probably our President was leading us to contemplate the views the Council advanced in its motion to the Annual General Meeting which, in the interests of efficiency, would transfer the responsibility for libraries to larger local government authorities. The postal ballot on the Council resolution demanded at Southport has now been declared. 8,502 members were entitled to vote, about 3,340 were excluded for non‐payment of their current subscriptions, and 3,538 returned correct ballot papers. The majority for the Council was 1,150. Such ballots are necessarily secret and no inferences can be drawn from the figures, except that the Council has a modest mandate to go ahead. We are sure that discretion will be observed in the choice of time and manner of doing that.

In 1912 Sir Frederick Gowland Hopkins reopened the whole question, and investigated again the effects on animals of a synthetic diet. Again he demonstrated the importance of the addition of milk, and in addition he pointed out the importance of the proteins and that some were capable of maintaining life whilst others were inadequate so that animals failed to grow when fed on them. Through this work he systematised previous work and also added an important contribution to our knowledge of nutrition by his discovery of the essential amino acids. These have been extensively studied in recent years, and the following are now regarded as being essential, according to a table by William C. Rose:—

ACCORDING to a pamphlet just issued by Mr. Thomas Greenwood, the total amount expended by Mr. Andrew Carnegie on the provision of Public Library, school, and other educational buildings is about £14,000,000 sterling. Some of this enormous amount has been devoted to the endowment of scholarships in universities, but the major part of it has been given for the purpose of enabling towns to erect library buildings. About £1,300,000 have been given to Scotland for this purpose, and probably about £50,000 to England, though this latter sum is being augmented almost daily. Mr. Carnegie's action in this matter is without precedent in the history of the world, and his extraordinary generosity and enthusiasm in this particular field of educational work deserves the heartiest recognition and applause from every section of the public. His work, so far as British libraries are concerned, is largely supplemental to the niggardly and short‐sighted policy of Parliament, which allows municipal authorities to establish Public Libraries, and raise funds which are barely sufficient in many cases to pay the gas bill and provide a few of the current magazines. Hence it follows that, in many cases, our libraries are housed in all kinds of temporary premises, from disused warehouses to prisons, churches, and market‐halls, where their utility is impaired by the complete unsuitability of their environment. Thus, about 75 per cent. of the British municipal libraries are administered under conditions which are desperate when compared with those of the United States. But worse even than the matter of equipment is that of efficient administration. Extraordinarily good work is accomplished, and great use is made of the books, in library premises which are a disgrace to the community which owns them, and to the Parliament which sanctions such makeshifts in the name of education; but this is owing more to luck in obtaining capable officers than the action of any systematic attempt to train competent staffs and improve methods of administration. Mr. Carnegie has done such a great work in making good the failure of the Legislature to provide adequately or the material side of Public Libraries, that it is not too much to suggest a practical method of making his valuable gifts even more valuable and effective. At present many of the Carnegie libraries are object‐lessons in what to avoid in library administration. They are staffed by untrained men, whose methods are the laughing‐stock of the more competent American librarians, whose opinions Mr. Carnegie is bound to respect in view of his belief in everything American. They are classified in a manner which would prove ruinous in any business run for profit, and catalogued in such a painfully bald manner as to reduce the whole method of book‐selection to the level of a lottery. We could name libraries in Scotland, which have been lavishly helped by Mr. Carnegie, which are doing greatly inferior work to little municipal libraries elsewhere, which are not even decently housed. They have not adopted a single modern or scientific method of doing anything, and they have been officered in a manner which will prevent any possibility of improvement for years to come. Other instances could be given of libraries housed in fine buildings which are simply libels on the aims and objects of modern librarianship, but enough has been said in a general way to show that something more is required to make Public Libraries efficient than good homes, or even a penny rate. How this could in part be accomplished, it is the purpose of this article to try and show.

THIS YEAR — that seemed like a New Year (as indeed it was) not so long ago is already a third gone. We can wonder at its speed of passing, and wonder, too, what it will have in store for us for the rest of the time before us.

LUBRICATION, as a natural phenomenon is as ageless as time, its contribution, in early beginnings, to the formation of the terrain on which we live cannot be questioned; it was invaluable, in later times, following the glacial eras, indeed there is still no demonstration of the defeat of friction between two surfaces in close contact to surpass that of wet ice sliding over wet ice.

THE attention which has lately been given to the subject of registration may well be taken as indicative of a growing desire for it, and no one who has closely followed the growing importance of libraries in the educational life of the country, and the consequent impetus given to the craft of librarianship, can have doubted that ere many years had passed it would be necessary to establish a professional register as other professional and trade bodies have done.