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Looks at developments in assessment methods and discusses issues likely to affect attempts to use sophisticated tools such as assessment centres. Discusses employee development, ownership and responsibility for development. Suggests ways in which managers and human resource specialists can plan and develop systems to match future needs.

GLASGOW was later by about one hundred and thirty years than some of the Scotch towns in establishing a printing press. Three hundred years ago, though Glasgow contained a University with men of great literary activity, including amongst others Zachary Boyd, there does not appear to have been sufficient printing work to induce anyone to establish a printing press. St. Andrews and Aberdeen were both notable for the books they produced, before Glasgow even attempted any printing.

Looks at the reasons for the collapse of both regimes and considers the importance of repression with these developments. Contrasts the methods of Imperial Russia with the Bolsheviks looking at Court proceedings, prison conditions, education and propaganda in prison, exile and the secret police. Concludes that whilst social support is usually seen as essential for survival of a system, repression is not regarded as a positive element but can become the method for a system’s survival and stability.

PROPERLY administrated, the reading room—displaying newspapers, magazines, and ready‐reference books—may, in spite of all that has been said to the contrary, become an important contributory factor in the educational work of our libraries. Let us examine the position closely. It is admitted, even by intemperate opponents, that the reading room is one of our most frequented departments. How, then, may the librarian make it of real educational value to the frequenters? This is a significant question, and, in the limited space available, we propose to indicate a few directions in which much might be done to enhance the utility of this department, and, within certain limits, to systematize its work on the lines of the policy governing the circulating departments. First of all, there is the important question of planning the room; and, although the size and arrangement must, to a large extent, depend upon the local requirements, a few general observations, applicable under almost all circumstances, may here be made. The room should be so designed as to facilitate supervision—glass partitions being more desirable than solid walls. Wherever practicable, the exit should be within view of the staff. For passages between tables, ample space should be allowed—six to eight feet being a reasonable width where movable chairs are used. The accompanying plan obviates the necessity for further comment, and will, perhaps, convey a clearer idea of what is required.

“WHAT a place to be in, is an old library! It seems as though all the souls of all the writers, that have bequeathed their labours to these Bodleians, were reposing here, as in some dormitory or middle state. I do not want to handle, to profane the leaves, their winding sheets… I seem to inhale learning, walking amid their foliage.” Thus wrote Charles Lamb, of the Bodleian Library, which is the largest library to bear the name of a private benefactor, and amongst British libraries, is second only in importance to the British Museum.

[There are thousands of lists of books on special subjects, and nothing more is attempted here than to indicate the most useful. For other lists and bibliographies, reference must be made to the works in Section I. The catalogues of special libraries and the numerous lists of books on special subjects contributed to professional magazines must also be sought for there.]

Books and periodicals on aeronautics: A buying list

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.

AFTER the trenchant paper by Mr. A. O. Jennings, read at the Brighton meeting of the Library Association, and the very embarrassing resolution which was carried as a result, one can only approach the subject of the commonplace in fiction with fear and diffidence. It is generally considered a bold and dangerous thing to fly in the face of corporate opinion as expressed in solemn public resolutions, and when the weighty minds of librarianship have declared that novels must only be chosen on account of their literary, educational or moral qualities, one is almost reduced to a state of mental imbecility in trying to fathom the meaning and limits of such an astounding injunction. To begin with, every novel or tale, even if but a shilling Sunday‐school story of the Candle lighted by the Lord type is educational, inasmuch as something, however little, may be learnt from it. If, therefore, the word “educational” is taken to mean teaching, it will be found impossible to exclude any kind of fiction, because even the meanest novel can teach readers something they never knew before. The novels of Emma Jane Worboise and Mrs. Henry Wood would no doubt be banned as unliterary and uneducational by those apostles of the higher culture who would fain compel the British washerwoman to read Meredith instead of Rosa Carey, but to thousands of readers such books are both informing and recreative. A Scots or Irish reader unacquainted with life in English cathedral cities and the general religious life of England would find a mine of suggestive information in the novels of Worboise, Wood, Oliphant and many others. In similar fashion the stories of Annie Swan, the Findlaters, Miss Keddie, Miss Heddle, etc., are educational in every sense for the information they convey to English or American readers about Scots country, college, church and humble life. Yet these useful tales, because lacking in the elusive and mysterious quality of being highly “literary,” would not be allowed in a Public Library managed by a committee which had adopted the Brighton resolution, and felt able to “smell out” a high‐class literary, educational and moral novel on the spot. The “moral” novel is difficult to define, but one may assume it will be one which ends with a marriage or a death rather than with a birth ! There have been so many obstetrical novels published recently, in which doubtful parentage plays a chief part, that sexual morality has come to be recognized as the only kind of “moral” factor to be regarded by the modern fiction censor. Objection does not seem to be directed against novels which describe, and indirectly teach, financial immorality, or which libel public institutions—like municipal libraries, for example. There is nothing immoral, apparently, about spreading untruths about religious organizations or political and social ideals, but a novel which in any way suggests the employment of a midwife before certain ceremonial formalities have been executed at once becomes immoral in the eyes of every self‐elected censor. And it is extraordinary how opinion differs in regard to what constitutes an immoral or improper novel. From my own experience I quote two examples. One reader objected to Morrison's Tales of Mean Streets on the ground that the frequent use of the word “bloody” made it immoral and unfit for circulation. Another reader, of somewhat narrow views, who had not read a great deal, was absolutely horrified that such a painfully indecent book as Adam Bede should be provided out of the public rates for the destruction of the morals of youths and maidens!

ATTENTION has been repeatedly drawn to certain drawbacks in the library profession which tend to hinder progress in many ways, and recently some discussion has taken place concerning the long hours and short pay of library assistants. Some years ago there appeared, we believe, in one of Mr. Greenwood's valuable Library Year Books, an analysis of the hours of work in a large number of British Municipal Libraries, and it was made plain from this that a majority of assistants had to work considerably more than forty‐eight hours weekly. Conditions may have changed since then, although it is open to doubt, but the fact remains that too many assistants, and a considerable number of librarians in small places, are now working so long, and in such broken spells, as to preclude any possibility of attaining self‐culture or reasonable recreation. The case of the small town librarian is particularly distressing. In some instances he is a man who has been well‐trained in a large town library, and inspired by a mistaken ambition, elects to attain a position of independence by accepting the chief librarianship in a library of which he afterwards finds himself the sole officer. He is responsible for the cleaning, as well as the ordinary work of a librarian, and his efforts to convert a miserable library rate of a few pounds into an engine of immense efficiency (as expected by the local authority) are enough to make the financial operations of even an American millionaire seem petty in comparison. We have had several cases like this brought to notice within a few weeks, and they give added point to any plea for reform which may be advanced. One young man, well‐educated and well‐trained, undertook the charge of a small municipal library, chiefly because it happened to be near London, and he wished to be in touch with that great and attractive centre. He very soon discovered that the hours of the library were so arranged as to occupy his whole time and keep him employed all day, from 9 a.m. or earlier, till 10 p.m., with two short breaks which did not suffice for a visit to London. On Sunday he was too tired to think of London, apart from which, the institutions which interested him were closed, so that it is possible this librarian has not yet seen the longed‐for London of his cherished anticipations ! There are cases like this in the smaller libraries all over the country, where one official has to perform all the work in an unlimited number of hours. If, as is done in some places, the hours of opening are greatly curtailed in order to give the librarian his deserved and well‐earned rest, then the public suffer. On the other hand, a library administered by a single officer and kept open from nine to ten hours daily, is rather of the nature of a slave‐compound, in which an official is kept prisoner in the interests of the omnipotent ratepayer. Wherever small staffs are kept, there exists this tendency towards long hours, and a consequent eterioration in the efficiency and educational qualifications of assistants. A standing complaint among those who are engaged in the educational work of the Library Association is that so many candidates are deficient in the most elementary subjects, such as composition, spelling and arithmetic. This is undoubtedly caused by the employment of imperfectly educated assistants, who are afterwards tied so fast to their library duties that they are unable to find any time for study and reading. In libraries where small staffs and long hours of opening are found together, it is almost certain that the work‐hours of the assistants will be excessive, and the efficiency of the service impaired.