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Three Presidents and Their Books: The Reading of Jefferson, Lincoln and Franklin Roosevelt
These three essays assess the effects of certain books on the intellectual development of three selected leaders, Jefferson, Lincoln, and F. D. Roosevelt. All three were known to have been bookmen, though in varying degrees and in different fashion. The authors were well-suited to the task. Arthur E. Bestor, Jr., at the time professor of history at the University of Illinois, had established his reputation as an authority on American communitarian experiments; ahead of him was his recognition as one of the eminent constitutional scholars of his generation. David C. Mearns, as the time, could look back on a 35-year career at the Library of Congress. When the papers of Robert Todd Lincoln were unsealed in 1947, he was entrusted with bringing them to publication. Jonathan Daniels, in addition to a long career as newspaperman, first met Franklin Roosevelt as a youth, and served in a number of capacities in the Roosevelt administration. All three papers were presented as the fifth set of Windsor Lectures in Librarianship at the University of Illinois in 1953, but their interest far transcends library science.
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First published January 1, 1955
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March 21, 2021
I recently revisited this slim book after first reading it nearly 40 years ago. The first essay, by Bestor, is entitled Thomas Jefferson and the Freedom of Book. He notes that Jefferson collected books “not to display his library but to live with it and to makes its volumes work for him and others” (p. 4). His 6,000 book collection was the seed from which the Library of Congress was restored after being burned by the British in 1814.
Jefferson was convinced that free access to books was a requirement of democracy. He championed free public libraries, albeit with little success in his lifetime, and opposed censorship. He was also against government secrecy; he recognized that total openness was not possible, yet maintained that most government simply served “to conceal the errors & rogueries of those who govern” (cited on p. 11).
This background made one highlight of the lecture Bestor’s discussion of one work that tempted Jefferson to compromise his ideals, David Hume’s six-volume History of England, which he was not alone in considering a dangerous work of historical revisionism that promoted ideals inimical to the fledgling American republican experiment. Jefferson’s proposed remedy, Bestor notes, was a combination of “plagiarism, expurgation and clandestine emendation” (p. 18). In the end, however, he returned to allegiance to his ideal: “Permit books to circulate freely, but encourage men to read so widely that they will not be intoxicated by the style or misled by the errors of any one book” (cited on p. 20).
Jefferson’s allegiance to academic freedom was limited by his belief that an educational institution (specifically his pet project, the University of Virginia) possessed the right to impose standards of political and constitutional loyalty on its faculty. Bestor, speaking at the height of McCarthyism, approves, but then, after a lengthy discussion, outlines what he means. He describes what he terms a negative approach to the problem: “scrutinizing textbooks for possible dubious passages, . . . questioning teachers to discern whether they harbor any unorthodox ideas, . . . closing off the discussion of controversial issues. Before long it engenders a universal dread of ideas themselves, lest certain ones prove perilous”(35). In place of this, he portrays a positive safeguard: thorough understanding of the basic principles of the American system and its great documents. “Let us look at our schools, not to purge them of ideas but to purge them of trivialities” (36). In a similar vein, he advocates scrutinizing libraries, not to find the occasional aberrant book, but to ascertain whether it holds the collected works of Lincoln or the full edition of the papers of Thomas Jefferson. Looked at 60 years later, it strikes me that Bestor’s concerns are more timely than ever.
David C. Mearns casts a critical eye on received wisdom of the extent of young Abe Lincoln’s reading. In doing so, he capitalized on his access to testimonies of Lincoln’s neighbors in Illinois, first gathered on behalf of William Dean Howells for his campaign biography in 1860 and by Lincoln’s former law partner, William Henry Herndon, in preparation for a life that appeared under his name in 1872.
The picture that emerges is of a self-made man who made the most of limited access to books by a superior ability to concentrate and to retain what he had read. He did not parade his reading, which led some who thought they were in a position to know to conclude that he read little. Yet even in the war years, with the press of official documents, correspondence and reports from the field, he found time to read for diversion.
Mearns outlines what can be known of his taste. Lincoln was not a general reader, interested in knowledge for its own sake. I am tempted to conclude that his reading can broadly be grouped into two categories: the utilitarian – first in his ambition to become a surveyor, then, to become an accomplished lawyer and politician, and recreational – the poetry and humorous sketches for “after hours.” But then I think of the way he would use a humorous story or lyric to defuse a tense political discussion; even his recreational reading found its uses. Even more so his immersion in the Bible, Shakespeare, Burns, and the hymns of Watts. While not strictly utilitarian reading, echoes from these sources made his speeches among the most stylistically assured and downright stirring of American political utterances.
Mearns concludes his study by concurring with Herndon’s judgment: “he read less and thought more than any man of his standing in America, if not in the world” (p. 88).
Jonathan Daniels, in his lecture on FDR and books, seems light-weight by comparison to the others. It certainly is light-hearted, perhaps intentionally in the interest of making a serious point. Books were part of the home into which he was born, as well as his education at Groton and Harvard. But, notes Daniel, “he escaped from that solemnity about books which is the first necessity of a book-loving man. Books were a part of his vernacular, not merely his erudition” (pp. 90–91). FDR was on the one hand a collector of fine editions, a hobby he began as an undergraduate; Daniel suspects that he valued a rare book more than one with rich content. On the other, he was an afficionado of mysteries. Daniel lauds FDR’s penchant for reading for fun. “The man who reads only for improvement is beyond the hope of much improvement before he begins. . . . No reader or president is to be more distrusted than the one who reads only the great books” (104–5).
All in all, a valuable set of lectures. Particular the first, by Bestor, deserves to continue to be read.
Jefferson was convinced that free access to books was a requirement of democracy. He championed free public libraries, albeit with little success in his lifetime, and opposed censorship. He was also against government secrecy; he recognized that total openness was not possible, yet maintained that most government simply served “to conceal the errors & rogueries of those who govern” (cited on p. 11).
This background made one highlight of the lecture Bestor’s discussion of one work that tempted Jefferson to compromise his ideals, David Hume’s six-volume History of England, which he was not alone in considering a dangerous work of historical revisionism that promoted ideals inimical to the fledgling American republican experiment. Jefferson’s proposed remedy, Bestor notes, was a combination of “plagiarism, expurgation and clandestine emendation” (p. 18). In the end, however, he returned to allegiance to his ideal: “Permit books to circulate freely, but encourage men to read so widely that they will not be intoxicated by the style or misled by the errors of any one book” (cited on p. 20).
Jefferson’s allegiance to academic freedom was limited by his belief that an educational institution (specifically his pet project, the University of Virginia) possessed the right to impose standards of political and constitutional loyalty on its faculty. Bestor, speaking at the height of McCarthyism, approves, but then, after a lengthy discussion, outlines what he means. He describes what he terms a negative approach to the problem: “scrutinizing textbooks for possible dubious passages, . . . questioning teachers to discern whether they harbor any unorthodox ideas, . . . closing off the discussion of controversial issues. Before long it engenders a universal dread of ideas themselves, lest certain ones prove perilous”(35). In place of this, he portrays a positive safeguard: thorough understanding of the basic principles of the American system and its great documents. “Let us look at our schools, not to purge them of ideas but to purge them of trivialities” (36). In a similar vein, he advocates scrutinizing libraries, not to find the occasional aberrant book, but to ascertain whether it holds the collected works of Lincoln or the full edition of the papers of Thomas Jefferson. Looked at 60 years later, it strikes me that Bestor’s concerns are more timely than ever.
David C. Mearns casts a critical eye on received wisdom of the extent of young Abe Lincoln’s reading. In doing so, he capitalized on his access to testimonies of Lincoln’s neighbors in Illinois, first gathered on behalf of William Dean Howells for his campaign biography in 1860 and by Lincoln’s former law partner, William Henry Herndon, in preparation for a life that appeared under his name in 1872.
The picture that emerges is of a self-made man who made the most of limited access to books by a superior ability to concentrate and to retain what he had read. He did not parade his reading, which led some who thought they were in a position to know to conclude that he read little. Yet even in the war years, with the press of official documents, correspondence and reports from the field, he found time to read for diversion.
Mearns outlines what can be known of his taste. Lincoln was not a general reader, interested in knowledge for its own sake. I am tempted to conclude that his reading can broadly be grouped into two categories: the utilitarian – first in his ambition to become a surveyor, then, to become an accomplished lawyer and politician, and recreational – the poetry and humorous sketches for “after hours.” But then I think of the way he would use a humorous story or lyric to defuse a tense political discussion; even his recreational reading found its uses. Even more so his immersion in the Bible, Shakespeare, Burns, and the hymns of Watts. While not strictly utilitarian reading, echoes from these sources made his speeches among the most stylistically assured and downright stirring of American political utterances.
Mearns concludes his study by concurring with Herndon’s judgment: “he read less and thought more than any man of his standing in America, if not in the world” (p. 88).
Jonathan Daniels, in his lecture on FDR and books, seems light-weight by comparison to the others. It certainly is light-hearted, perhaps intentionally in the interest of making a serious point. Books were part of the home into which he was born, as well as his education at Groton and Harvard. But, notes Daniel, “he escaped from that solemnity about books which is the first necessity of a book-loving man. Books were a part of his vernacular, not merely his erudition” (pp. 90–91). FDR was on the one hand a collector of fine editions, a hobby he began as an undergraduate; Daniel suspects that he valued a rare book more than one with rich content. On the other, he was an afficionado of mysteries. Daniel lauds FDR’s penchant for reading for fun. “The man who reads only for improvement is beyond the hope of much improvement before he begins. . . . No reader or president is to be more distrusted than the one who reads only the great books” (104–5).
All in all, a valuable set of lectures. Particular the first, by Bestor, deserves to continue to be read.
August 28, 2023
Excellent book! Especially the chapter on Thomas Jefferson.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews