Their Wine Will Warm
An Appreciation of the Bancroft Bequest

JOHN BERTHEL
 

T
 

"^HE MIGHTY PYRAMID of Cheops, near Giza, re¬
quired 2,300,000 blocks of diorite in its building. The
Columbia Libraries contain approximately this same
number of books—and have need for more.

It may seem a far cry from the tremendous monument of
Pharaoh Cheops to the endowment of a university library, and
yet they are both memorial expressions. We marvel at the pyra¬
mid, yet decry the human sacrifice required in its building. Its
grandeur is in part a dead thing, symbolizing the tyrannical power
and overweening ego of its founder. Awesome, yet oppressive, it
is a monument to ruthlessness, a product of the scourge.

The more creative memorial is one that carries within it a
breath of life, one that encourages a continuity of interest and
affection between the founder and those that follow.

The privately endowed university library satisfies this latter
dictum. Its treasures are not sealed off from later generations. It
is certainly not a grim fortress of the dead. I must insist upon this
in spite of certain mausoleum-like structures that have been con¬
ceived to house library collections. For on the library's easily ac¬
cessible shelves men of all ages parade their aspirations and
achievements, victories and defeats, and even the follies that iden¬
tify them as charter members of the human race.

A fine university library, such as Columbia's, is the product of
many willing hands. No scourge was needed in its founding, or its
growth. It is a living memorial to a large and liberal fraternity. Its
benefactors have been many. Friendly donors have contributed
single volumes to its shelves. It has been the recipient of magnifi-