 Hello again. OK. So, a duty to encourage, a duty to advance, institution collections and a society of anti-paras in the 19th century, to begin with I do have to start with a caveat. I'm afraid if you read the abstract in the printout, this probably resembles nothing to do with that. So, I apologise in advance. So, despite our presence around it, the society of anti-paras library began in a very modest vein. As we can see from the minutes taken from the first official council meeting at the Mitre Tavern, they merely required a humble box to lay up the books in. It was only after they had found permanent lodgings that chance to relay that they acquired a large room for the immediate reception of books and objects. And it was then that they received their first substantial request. Now, this request came from Bishop Charles Litterton, the figure you can see up here, who, upon his death, left the society 90 printed books and a substantial collection of manuscripts. James Mann, who became the society's president in 1949, argued that Litterton's request formed the foundation of the collection today. Over the course of the 18th and 19th centuries, Sal continued to attract a number of significant gifts, thus forcing them to amass the collection that we see today. In this paper, I discussed various aspects of the collection in order to think more broadly about its role in 19th century intellectual culture, and in particular how the collection itself may have helped to establish a society as an intellectual environment. I'm sure the majority of you here are familiar with the work of Bernard Ners, and this has proved to be a valuable resource to me in my research and one that I hope to build upon. Now again, as with most speakers here, this paper forms part of a much larger piece of work for my PhD thesis, where I examine a variety of 19th century institutions and their respective collections, and my second chapter will actually be on the Society of Antiquaries Library. So now, over the course of my research, I have found really new Gladstone's ideas about intellectual culture useful, as they've shown us about how the Victorian think about influence of environment. So, Gladstone believed that intellect, like other human agents, depends much on its environment, and through this environment, intellect may be a light for certain velocities and a darkness for others. He clearly believed he could pull off sideburns, as well, but I'm not so sure. So this comment was made in response to the Irish physicist John Tyndall on the issue of home rule in Ireland. And although Gladstone was never a fellow of this society, the idea that one's physical environment and peer group could indeed influence how one thought is pertinent to my discussion today of the society's collection. Therefore, this paper will begin with a brief discussion of the various ways in which Sal's collection was created, stored and subsequently used in order to think more carefully about the impact this may have had on the society's intellectual culture. How, I ask, did gifts and requests have the potential to shape the thinking of Sal's fellows? And was this reflected more widely in the 19th century intellectual circles? So let's begin by thinking a little bit about how these works were stored. So meeting initially at local taverns, and I always imagined some sort of scene like this when I'm thinking about taverns in the 18th century, the society struggled to find a space in which to store their possessions. And in 1753, two years after they were granted the Royal Charter, they did eventually move to various coffee houses. And it was here that the society were first provided with somewhere to store their books. Now this modest allocation of space comprised of a large room of the house up two pairs of stairs, and was fitted out with shelves and drawers so that the society could house their emberonic collection. Now this coffee house was the first property in which they had the sole and exclusive use of, and so thus this enabled them and their collection to grow more quickly. Nevertheless, the space is still far from ideal. The library itself was located in the antechamber of the resident secretary's apartments, and could only be accessed by walking through these apartments. Indeed, in 1773, Richard Gow, the Society's director at the time, suggested to the then-president, Jeremiah Mills, that the collection would be better off housed elsewhere. Mills evidently agreed to the marking, I suppose Mr Norris no longer uses the library as a dressing room, and suggested perhaps it wanted cleaning, painting and embellishment. However, these alterations to the library never actually occurred, as discussions regarding another move began as early as 1776. With the coffee shop as a meeting house, fellows were concerned this might be unsuitable for a society that had been granted a royal charter. The prospect of society moving began to take shape, and especially after it was announced by Mr Blike that the present Somerset House was to be demolished and rebuilt for public offices. Finally, four years later, the building work was complete, and the keys were handed over to the society's vice-president. This move to Somerset House meant that society was awarded with a library that was more fitting of its royal charter, and it was the first time they'd been given their own purpose-built library. Not to be updone by the Royal Society, of course, Sal endeavoured to furnish their new apartments in a way that would be suitable to their royal munificence. And again, according to Richard Gow, these new apartments were magnificent indeed, as he described them as being furnished with the finest silver-plated cadastics, ink-stands, and sub-dishes. There were also great chandeliers to light the rooms, however he did also add, I trembled for my pocket in regards to the cost. But despite the society's attempts at making their Somerset House library an adequate space for fellows to work, there were still a number of issues with this space. Being situated on the ground floor, the library was subject to noise from the strand. And there was also poor natural lighting, both for which fellows claimed made it difficult to work there. In addition to this, there was no room for expansion if the collections do grow any larger, and a number of fellows felt the society's lack of space prevented them from carrying out the research effectively. We can see this in the observation of the antiquarian naval scholar Sir Nicholas Harris Nicholls, for example, who complained in 1829 that the library is too confined and too incomodious for the number of valuable books which it contains, and for the members to resort to it generally as a place to study. Therefore, in 1859, the society began negotiations for the move to Burlington House, which was eventually enacted in 1874. Although their new meeting room was not as light as the apartments in Somerset House, they were provided with a library space which far surpassed their old premises. The then Vice President in his opening address at Burlington House declared that, with respect to the library, the game is infinite. We are being obliged to place our books, not less than 20,000 in number, in several localities, some dark, others hardly accessible, on staircases and in cupboards. I'm not sure too much has changed. They are now brought together in Cromhamsam and the World Proportioned Room, which allows for perfect classification and affords ample space for additions. The architects, Banks and Barry, and Sir Lyon was made the focal point of the society's new apartments, and their designs favoured deep bay windows fitted with shelves and seating. Indeed, if we refer to the floor plans, we can see that the room was 55.43 foot, four times larger than their library fin at Somerset House. This additional space provided the society with 3,500 feet of additional shelving, allowed them to store their collection far more adequately than they had before. Therefore, we can see how this last move made the society's library a far more attractive place to work, and with the additional space, it was easier for fellows to access the collection. I do recommend, if you've not been to see the library here at Ballington House upstairs, to go and have a look. It really is very beautiful. So I apologize for that somewhat brief whirlwind tour of the society's premises thus far, but I do think it's important to understand how this collection has been housed, especially when I think this has had an impact on the development of the collection itself. Although taverns were effective at facilitating discussion and debate, they were entirely unsuited to storing books, and least of all, books of any worth. However, when the society moved to Somerset House and subsequently Ballington House, their purpose-built libraries meant that they could house a much larger collection and, arguably, a much finer one. It also afforded the society with the grandeur they so desired, and with their magnificent apartments, ground and chandeliers, and silver-plated candlesticks, we can see how they made a few of these two libraries as a means to showcase their credentials as a reputable institution. Out of some peers' notes in her essay The Interpretation of Action Objects, the society was a place where fellows could meet to talk and socialize with like-minded individuals, but it was the library and the space it occupied which provided these members with the intellectual resources to support and inspire them. So let's have a little think now about how the collection was built over the course of the 19th century. So to date, the society had a priority in the library in the country, comprising of more than 130,000 books dating from the 15th century to the present day. Not only does the collection consist of printed works, but it also contains artifacts, manuscripts, prints and drawings spanning all areas of antiquarianism. From architectural history, British and European archaeology and art history did British local history and decorative arts. And although the library committee allocated a small budget in 1859 on which to purchase books, the collection has been acquired through gifts and donations. So one of the ways in which the society received these donations was through an exchange of publications with other intellectual institutions. They received numerous volumes of publications in this way, including journals, proceedings, bulletins, catalogs and annual reports, and in return presented copies of their journal Archaeologia. If we look at the list of donations for 1849, for example, we can see how significant this practice was. In this year alone, the society received 213 donations and 51 of these were from other institutions, including that are limited to the Smithsonian Institution, the Art Union of London, Leeds Philosophical and Literary Society, the Royal Irish Academy, the Archaeological Institute of Great Britain in Ireland, the Ffanaeum, United Service Institution and last but not least, the Zoological Society of London. As we can see, these publications may not always have been entirely in keeping with the society's interests, but nevertheless, they were accepted and became part of the collection that we do know today. Donations from individuals and, more specifically, fellows were also actively encouraged and when gifts were presented, they were laid out on a table at committee meetings and the donor's name recorded in the doberbook. The most significant period of donations occurs after the society moved to Burlington House, perhaps in most ways, to the increase in the shelf space. In 1866, for example, Frederick William Fairholt, the illustrator and engraver, an example of his work here, bequeathed the society in his collection on European pageantry, including 179 foliums and a number of prints. This section was later supplemented by another fellow, the Reverend E.G. Qwick, who added to the collection in his own memory. Two years later, in 1869, the architect Arthur Ashfordall, the owner of the Wellington Testimonial Coltab at London Bridge, again you can see that over there, left the society a substantial number of volumes in his will, including 28 in Canaveral, parts of the Alzevia collection, architectural works by Caledio and Varanasi, books on the Colt and 23 chat books. In the council minutes for the 2nd of February, 1869, there exists the following entry on this request. The late Ashfordall has agreed to the society in his library or all the books we have not got and his valsas from Italy and the whole library counted 2840 foliums. Remember back in 1849 there was only 230 donations for the entire year, so this is quite a significant number. Indeed, there are still a number of finely printed books which constitute some of the rarest works in the society's possession that Caledio and the Ashfordall collection. However, by denying donations, he was subject to the wins of their donors and when Augustus Willisdon Franks became the director of the library in 1859, he was concerned about how the collection was progressing. So Franks considered the library to be one of the most important features in the society's progress and in 1860 he made the following declaration. The great value of the library from which works can be borrowed to all those who engage in anti-cran pursuits needs to be assessed upon. It should contain or standard works of reference in the special subjects of our studies, namely antiquities, history and art. The space that are disposed of being limited it should be restricted to those with cognate subjects. At present, being the accumulation of accident rather than design our library has the most glaring deficiencies and whilst it may contain many works of great value it wants others to which our fellows have daily occasion to refer. As we can see from his declaration Franks was clearly concerned the library has grown to organically and criticised the way in which the collection neglected to cover basic works of reference. Indeed, if we look at accounts of the society's catalogue or accounts of the society's library at this time we can see that there were several surprising omissions including a lack of stupid works on Stonehenge and Avery. The society only had one addition of Camden's Britannia and many series of books were also incomplete. When we compare this to the more active private collections from this time the majority of these individuals had significantly larger libraries. In 1829 for example Sir Walter Scott was reported to hold some 20,000 volumes on British history and topography whereas Sir Richard Colt's horse library catalogue listed more than 10,000 works on topography and Richard Hebert had acquired 150,000 books by his death in 1833. Therefore, in attempt to rectify some of these deficiencies the council allocated France a regular sum of money in which to purchase books. The council being anxious to remedy of some slight measure of these deficiencies a lot of £50 a year to be extended by this library committee but it was only by the assistants of fellows the library can become as complete as it ought to be as this note is in the council minutes. As we can see the council was still keen to be presented with donations but they were also conscious of the fact that the collection needed to be comprehensive in order to be useful to fellows. The Society of Occasional Purchas worked before and indeed one of their rarest earliest acquisitions was the 1619 petition by Edmund Fulton a Catholic Lawyer and Herald for the establishment of a Royal Academy indeed they'd also acquired the inventory of King Henry VIII and the 1550 Winchester Dune's Day at an auction in 1790 in the same manner. But when thinking about which books to purchase the society also relied on recommendations made by fellows and we can see these requests listed in the library recommendations book which spans from 1859 to 1940. In this book fellows can note down their requests for purchases and then signed alongside the entry their name. Now you may have noticed that this item is actually on display today and has been put up for today's conference you can note that it's just here on my reference side. I beg of you again to go and have a look at it as it not only demonstrates the various ways in which fellows interacted with the collection but it also shows us how they interacted with one another. So when a recommendation was made other fellows could sign their name alongside the recommendation in order to second or third the request and on occasion they even added comments of their own. So in 1882 for example there's a request for the January report on the old records of the Indian office by Sir George Birdwood under which it is noted useful for reference and as a guide for authentic sources of information. In 1885 WH Sir John Hope supported a request for some bells and London bell founders alongside the note a book of value from many points of view. Whereas a request for George Petrie's the Acastial Architecture of Ireland is accompanied by Ruthen's declaration that it is the chief work on round towers. However fellows were not always in agreement with one another. Oh no, shot horror. And we can see this in a request made by Charles Spencer Percival. He was a regular contractor to the Library Recommendations Book and he requests Spellman's Concilia in two volumes. But following this entry is a note by W.A. Black where he has added the society already has Gaulkins Day with Concilia, full volumes, and this is a much more complete and authentic work. There are other examples of this including C.K. Watson's request for the 1866 edition of Historicity of Porcelain in which they read the following comments and again you can just about see these on the top right-hand side there and this is the page that's open to over here. A very bad book by Ost a UST on the Schillemaking Orchestra Swilaston Fent and but this is a new edition by C.K.W. And so as you can see from this dialogue it demonstrates that the fellows were evidently keen to influence the choice of works and their interest. But their recommendations also give an insight into how the collection might have been used. Indeed these men were renowned for their contributions to the fields of antiquities and many of them wrote prolifically publishing their research and books and journals and as you can see there are multiple examples of fellows using specific items from the society's collection for their own research. In 1825 for example Henry Ellis wrote a letter to request to borrow from the society's library Alham's Life of Henry V on human publications stating that it is for the immediate purpose in writing the paper. In 1863 there is an entry in the council minutes for July which reads Mr Black having stated to the council that he also would be glad of the loan of some of the society's manuscripts to illustrate a lecture given by Henry Rochester. Therefore this collection is clearly being actively used by members and so we can see why they may have had a vested interest in its development. So before I end I did just want to refer back to that quote by Gladstone, discussed earlier. Intellect, like any other human agents depends much on its environment. And what I hope to have demonstrated today is that the society's collection of manuscripts and printed works was and arguably still is an essential part of thousands of intellectual identity. As the libraries not only functioned as an environment in which to store books but they also helped the society to legitimise their reputation. Further more than the way in which fellows interacted with the collection whether through presenting gifts, making requests or just using it for their research we can see that they were invested in its development. And these interactions I argue can be used to provide us with insight into the intersections between institutional collections and the 90th century intellectual culture more broadly. Thank you.