ABSTRACT
As a librarian I am quite aware that I have been blessed with many more privileges than I would have dared to hope for or expect had I remained a layman, content with only those few books which I could afford for myself. Among the privileges, and I truly consider them such, I suppose the greatest for me is the unlimited association with representatives of the world’s fellowship of writers. This fellowship, this fraternity, if you will, is composed generally of great minds, and the pleasure as well as the terror of such association are something the everyday reader cannot escape. As for the pleasure, there is the warmth and richness books provide for any reader, whatever his or her mood may be. As for the terror, there is the sometimes shattering experience of having one’s prejudices and silly beliefs stripped away, and finding oneself standing intellectually naked in the bright light of reason, in the burning light of a truth which cannot be denied. There are, however, other privileges to be gained in a library, where the shelves of books range across a hundred thousand regions explored by other men and described in their writings.
