Introduction.

"I for my part venerate the inventor of Indexes; and I know not to whom to yield the preference, either to Hippocrates, who was the great anatomiser of the human body, or to that unknown labourer in literature who first laid open the nerves and arteries of a book."

—Isaac Disraeli, Literary Miscellanies.

T is generally agreed that that only is true knowledge which consists of information assimilated by our own minds. Mere disjointed facts kept in our memories have no right to be described as knowledge. It is this understanding that has made many writers jeer at so-called index-learning. Thus, in the seventeenth century, Joseph Glanville, writing in his Vanity of Dogmatizing, says: "Methinks 'tis a pitiful piece of knowledge that can be learnt from an index, and a poor ambition to be rich in the inventory of another's treasure." Dr. Watts alluded to those whose "learning reaches no farther than the tables of contents"; but then he added a sentence which quite takes the sting from what he had said before, and shows how absolutely needful an index is. He says: "If a book has no index or table of contents, 'tis very useful to make one as you are reading it."

Swift had his say on index-learning, too. In the Tale of a Tub (Section VII.) he wrote: "The most accomplisht way of using books at present is twofold: Either serve them as some men do Lords, learn their titles exactly, and then brag of their acquaintance. Or secondly, which indeed is the choicer, the profounder and politer method, to get a thorough insight into the Index, by which the whole book is governed and turned, like fishes by the tail. For to enter the palace of Learning at the great gate, requires an expense of time and forms; therefore men of much haste and little ceremony are content to get in by the back-door. For, the Arts are all in a flying march, and therefore more easily subdued by attacking them in the rear.... Thus men catch Knowledge by throwing their wit on the posteriors of a book, as boys do sparrows with flinging salt upon their tails. Thus human life is best understood by the wise man's Rule of regarding the end. Thus are the Sciences found like Hercules' oxen, by tracing them backwards. Thus are old Sciences unravelled like old stockings, by beginning at the foot."

Thomas Fuller, with his usual common-sense, wisely argues that the diligent man should not be deprived of a tool because the idler may misuse it. He writes: "An Index is a necessary implement and no impediment of a book except in the same sense wherein the carriages [i.e. things carried] of an army are termed impedimenta. Without this a large author is but a labyrinth without a clue to direct the reader therein. I confess there is a lazy kind of learning which is only indical, when scholars (like adders which only bite the horses' heels) nibble but at the tables, which are calces librorum, neglecting the body of the book. But though the idle deserve no crutches (let not a staff be used by them but on them), pity it is the weary should be denied the benefit thereof, and industrious scholars prohibited the accommodation of an index, most used by those who most pretend to contemn it."

The same objection to "indical" learning is urged to-day, but it is really a futile one. No man can know everything; he may possess much true knowledge, but there is a mass of matter that the learned man knows he can never master completely. He does not care to burden his mind with what might be to him useless lumber. In this case his object is only to know where he can find the information when he wants it. Indexes are of the greatest help to these men, and for their purposes the indexes ought to be well made. But it is needless to labour this point, for has not Johnson, in his clear and virile language, said the last word on the matter?—"Knowledge is of two kinds; we know a subject ourselves, or we know where we can find information upon it. When we inquire into any subject, the first thing we have to do is to know what books have treated of it. This leads us to look at catalogues and the backs of books."

Before going further, it would be well for author and reader to come to an agreement as to what an index really is. An index may, in certain circumstances, be arranged in the order of the book, like a table of contents, or it may be classified or chronological; but the index to a book such as we all think of when we speak of an index should be alphabetical. The other arrangements must be exceptional, because the books indexed are exceptional.

It is strange, however, to find how long the world was in coming to this very natural conclusion. The first attempt at indexing a book was in the form of an abstract of contents in the order of the book itself. Seneca, in sending certain volumes to his friend Lucilius, accompanied them with notes of particular passages, so that he "who only aimed at the useful might be spared the trouble of examining them entire." Cicero used the word "index" to express the table of contents of a book, and he asked his friend Atticus to send him two library clerks to repair his books. He added that he wished them to bring with them some parchment to make indexes upon.

Many old manuscripts have useful tables of contents, and in Dan Michel's Ayenbite of Inwyt (1340) there is a very full table with the heading: "Thise byeth the capiteles of the boc vol?inde."

It was only a step to arrange this table of contents in the order of the alphabet, and thus form a true index; but it took a long time to take this step. Alphabetical indexes of names are to be found in some old manuscript books, but it may be said that the general use of the alphabetical arrangement is one of those labour-saving expedients which came into use with the invention of printing.

Erasmus supplied alphabetical indexes to many of his books; but even in his time arrangement in alphabetical order was by no means considered indispensable in an index, and the practice came into general use very slowly.

The word "index" had a hard fight with such synonyms as "calendar," "catalogue," "inventory," "register," "summary," "syllabus." In time it beat all its companions in the race, although it had the longest struggle with the word "table." [1]

Cicero used the word "index," and explained it by the word "syllabus." Index was not generally acknowledged as an English word until late in the seventeenth century.

North's racy translation of Plutarch's Lives, the book so diligently used by Shakespeare in the production of his Roman histories, contains an alphabetical index at the end, but it is called a table. On the title-page of Baret's Alvearie (1573), one of the early English dictionaries, mention is made of "two Tables in the ende of this booke"; but the tables themselves, which were compiled by Abraham Fleming, being lists of the Latin and French words, are headed "Index." Between these two tables, in the edition of 1580, is "an Abecedarie, Index or Table" of Proverbs. The word "index" is not included in the body of the dictionary, where, however, "Table" and "Regester" are inserted. "Table" is defined as "a booke or regester for memorie of thinges," and "regester" as "a reckeninge booke wherein thinges dayly done be written." By this it is clear that Baret did not consider index to be an English word.

At the end of Johnson's edition of Gerarde's Herbal (1636) is an "Index Latinus," followed by a "Table of English names," although a few years previously Minsheu had given "index" a sort of half-hearted welcome into his dictionary. Under that word in the Guide into Tongues (1617) is the entry, "vide Table in Booke, in litera T.," where we read, "a Table in a booke or Index." Even when acknowledged as an English word, it was frequently differentiated from the analytical table: for instance, Dugdale's Warwickshire contains an "Index of Towns and Places," and a "Table of men's names and matters of most note"; and Scobell's Acts and Ordinances of Parliament (1640-1656), published 1658, has "An Alphabetical Table of the most material contents of the whole book," preceded by "An Index of the general titles comprized in the ensuing Table." There are a few exceptions to the rule here set forth: for instance, Plinie's Natural Historie of the World, translated by Philemon Holland (1601), has at the beginning, "The Inventorie or Index containing the contents of 37 bookes," and at the end, "An Index pointing to the principal matters." In Speed's History of Great Britaine (1611) there is an "Index or Alphabetical Table containing the principal matters in this history."

The introduction of the word "index" into English from the Latin word in the nominative shows that it dates from a comparatively recent period, and came into the language through literature and not through speech. In earlier times it was the custom to derive our words from the Latin accusative. The Italian word indice was from the accusative, and this word was used by Ben Jonson when he wrote, "too much talking is ever the indice of a fool" (Discoveries, ed. 1640, p. 93). The French word indice has a different meaning from the Italian indice, and according to LittrÉ is not derived from index, but from indicium. It is possible that Jonson's "indice" is the French, and not the Italian, word.

Drayton uses "index" as an indicator:

Shakespeare uses the word as a table of contents at the beginning of a book rather than as an alphabetical list at the end: for instance, Nestor says:

Buckingham threatens:

And Iago refers to "an index and obscure prologue to the history of lust and foul thoughts" (Othello, II. 1). It may be remarked in the quotation from Troilus and Cressida that Shakespeare uses the proper plural—"indexes"—instead of "indices," which even now some writers insist on using. No word can be considered as thoroughly naturalised that is allowed to take the plural form of the language from which it is obtained. The same remark applies to the word "appendix," the plural of which some write as "appendices" instead of "appendixes." In the case of "indices," this word is correctly appropriated to another use.

Indexes need not necessarily be dry; and some of the old ones are full of quaint touches which make them by no means the least interesting portion of the books they adorn. John Florio's translation of Montaigne's Essays contains "An Index or Table directing to many of the principal matters and personages mentioned in this Booke," which is full of curious entries and odd cross references. The entries are not in perfect alphabetical order. A few of the headings will give a good idea of the whole:

"Action better than speach."

"Action to some is rest."

"Beasts are Physitians, Logitians, Musitians, Artists, Students, Politikes, Docible, Capable of Military Order, of Affections, of Justice, of Friendship, of Husbandry, of thankefulnesse and of compassion," etc.

"Bookes and Bookishnesse."

"Bookes not so profitable as Conference—as deare as children."

"Bruit creatures have imagination."

"Cloysters not without cares."

"Good fortune not to be despised altogether."

"Societie of bookes."

Here are some of the cross references:

"Alteration vide Inconstancy."

"Amitie vide Friendship."

"Ant vide Emmets."

"Apprehension vide Imagination."

"Balladmakers vide Rymers."

"Boasting vide Vaunting."

"Chance vide Fortune."

"Common People vide the Vulgar."

"Disparity vide Equality."

"Emperickes vide Physitians."

An instance of how loosely the word "index" has been used will be found in Robert Boyle's Some Considerations touching the Usefulnesse of Experimental Natural Philosophy (Oxford, 1663). This book is divided into two parts, and at the end of each part is "The Index." This so-called index is arranged in order of the pages, and is really only a full table of contents.

Indexes did not become at all common till the sixteenth century, and Mr. Cornelius Walford asked in Notes and Queries what was the earliest index. Mr. Edward Solly answered: "Polydore Vergil in AnglicÆ HistoriÆ (1556), has what may fairly be called a good index—thirty-seven pages. This may be taken as a starting-point as to date; and we may ask for earlier examples" (6th S. xi. 155). Another contributor referred to an earlier edition of Polydore Vergil (1546), and still another one cited Lyndewood's Provinciale (1525), which has several indexes.

One old index may be singled out as having caused its author serious misfortune. William Prynne concocted a most wonderful attack upon the "stage" under the title of Histrio-Mastix (1633), which is absolutely unreadable by reason of the vast mass of authorities gathered from every century and every nation, to prove the wickedness of play-acting. Carlyle refers to the Histrio-Mastix as "a book still extant, but never more to be read by mortal."

If Prynne had sent his child out into the world without an index, he might have escaped from persecution, as no one would have found out the enormities which were supposed to lurk within the pages of the book. But he was unwise enough to add a most elaborate index, in which all the attacks upon a calling that received the sanction of the Court were arranged in a convenient form for reference. Attorney-General Noy found that the author himself had forged the weapons which he (the prosecutor) could use in the attack. This is proved by a passage in Noy's speech at Prynne's trial, where he points out that the accused "says Christ was a Puritan, in his Index." Noy calls it an index, but Prynne himself describes it as "A Table (with some brief additions) of the chiefest passages in this treatise." [2]

The entries in the index are so curious and one-sided in their accusations that it is worth while to quote some of them rather fully:

"Actors of popular or private enterludes for gaine or pleasure, infamous, unlawfull and that as well in Princes, Noblemen, Gentlemen, Schollers, Divines or Common Actors."

"Æschylus, one of the first inventors of Tragedies—his strange and sudden death."

"Christ wept oft, but never laughed—a puritan—dishonoured and offended with Stage playes."

"Crossing of the face when men go to plays shuts in the Devil."

"Devils, inventors and fomentors of stage plays and dancing. Have stage plays in hell every Lord's day night."

"Heaven—no stage plays there."

"Herod Agrippa smitten in theater by an angel and so died."

"Herod the great, the first erecter of a theater among the Jews who thereupon conspire his death."

"King James his statute against prophaning scripture and God's name in Playes—his Statutes make Players rogues and Playes unlawfull pastimes."

"Kings—infamous for them to act or frequent Playes or favour Players."

"Plagues occasioned by stage plays. All the Roman actors consumed by a plague."

"Play-bookes see Bookes."

"Players infamous ...

—— many of them Papists and most desperate wicked wretches."

"Play haunters the worst and lewdest persons for the most part...."

"Play haunting unlawfull...."

"Play-houses stiled by the Fathers and others, the Devil's temples, Chappels and synagogues...."

"Play-poets examples of God's judgements on the chiefest of them...."

"Puritans, condemners of Stage-playes and other corruptions stiled so—The very best and holiest Christians called so....—Christ, his prophets, apostles, the Fathers and Primitive christians Puritans as men now judged—hated and condemned onely for their grace yea holinesse of life—Accused of hypocrisie and sedition, and why."

"Puritan, an honourable nickname of Christianity and grace."

"Theaters overturned by tempests."

It was the strong terms in which women actors are denounced that gave such offence at Court, where the Queen and her ladies were specially attracted to the stage. Prynne's book was published six weeks before Henrietta Maria acted in a pastoral at Somerset House, so that the following passage could not have been intended to allude to the Queen: [3]

"Women actors notorious whores ... and dare then any Christian women be so more than whorishly impudent as to act, to speake publikely on a stage perchance in man's apparell and cut haire here proved sinfull and abominable in the presence of sundry men and women?... O let such presidents of impudency, of impiety be never heard of or suffered among Christians."

There are some interesting letters in Ellis's Original Letters (2nd Series, vol. 3) which illustrate the effect on the Court of these violent expressions of opinion. Jo. Pory wrote to Sir Thomas Puckering on September 20th, 1632: "That which the Queen's Majesty, some of her ladies and all her maides of honour are now practicing upon is a Pastorall penned by Mr. Walter Montague, wherein her Majesty is pleased to acte a parte, as well for her recreation as for the exercise of her Englishe."

George Gresley wrote to the same Puckering on the following 31st of January: "Mr. Prinne an Utter Barrister of Lincoln's Inne is brought into the High Commission Court and Star Chamber, for publishing a Booke (a little before the Queene's acting of her play) of the unlawfullness of Plaies wherein in the Table of his Booke and his brief additions thereunto he hath these words [the extracts given above are here printed], which wordes it is thought by some will cost him his eares, or heavily punnisht and deepely fined."

Those who thought thus were amply justified in their opinion. Mr. Hill Burton observes that it was a very odd compliment to Queen Henrietta Maria to presume that these words refer to her, and he adds that the supposition reminds him of Victor Hugo's sarcasm respecting Napoleon III., that when the Parisian police overheard any one use the terms "ruffian" and "scoundrel," they said, "You must be speaking of the Emperor!"

Prynne is so full in his particulars that he might have given us much information respecting the stage in his own day, which we should have welcomed; but, instead, he is ever more ready to draw his examples from Greek and Latin authorities.

In the eighteenth century a practice arose of drawing up indexes of sentiments and opinions as distinguished from facts. Such indexes required a special skill in the indexer, who was usually the original author. There is a curious poetical index to the Iliad in Pope's Homer, referring to all the places in which similes are used.

Samuel Johnson was very anxious that Richardson should produce such an index to his novels. In the Correspondence of Samuel Richardson (vol. v., p. 282) is a letter from Johnson to the novelist, in which he writes: "I wish you would add an index rerum, that when the reader recollects any incident, he may easily find it, which at present he cannot do, unless he knows in which volume it is told; for Clarissa is not a performance to be read with eagerness, and laid aside for ever; but will be occasionally consulted by the busy, the aged and the studious; and therefore I beg that this edition, by which I suppose posterity is to abide, may want nothing that can facilitate its use."

At the end of each volume of Clarissa Harlowe Richardson added a sort of table of all the passages best worth remembering, and as he was the judge himself, it naturally extended to a considerable length. In September, 1753, Johnson again wrote to Richardson suggesting the propriety of making an index to his three works, but he added: "While I am writing an objection arises; such an index to the three would look like the preclusion of a fourth, to which I will never contribute; for if I cannot benefit mankind I hope never to injure them."

Richardson took the hint of his friend, and in 1755 appeared a volume of four hundred and ten pages, entitled, A Collection of the moral and instructive Sentiments, Maxims, Cautions, and Reflexions contained in the Histories of Pamela, Clarissa and Sir Charles Grandison, digested under proper heads.

The tables of sentiments are arranged in separate alphabets for each novel. The production of this book was a labour of love to its author, who, moreover, was skilled in the mechanical work of indexing, and in the early part of his career had filled up his leisure hours by compiling indexes for the booksellers and writing prefaces and dedications. At the end of his "collection" are two letters from the author to two of his admirers; one was to a lady who was solicitous for an additional volume to Sir Charles Grandison, supposing that work ended too abruptly.

David Hume is to be added to the list of celebrated men who have been indexers, although he does not appear to have liked the work. In referring to the fourth edition of his Essays he wrote: "I intend to make an index to it." Two years later he is grateful that the work of indexing another book is to be done for him; writing to Millar (December 18th, 1759), he says: "I think that an Index will be very proper, and am glad that you free me from the trouble of undertaking that task, for which I know myself to be very unfit." [4]

Sir James Paget, the great surgeon, not only made indexes, but delighted in the task. He told Dr. Goodhart, apropos of the Hunterian Museum Catalogues, College of Surgeons, that "it had always been a pleasure to him to make an index." [5]

At the end of this chapter I must refer to an excellent blunder, because it would not be fair to introduce it with the work of the bad indexer, as it is an instance not exactly of ignorance, but of too great cleverness.

Of the FÉtis Musical Library, bought by the Belgian Government at his death for 152,000 francs, an excellent catalogue was compiled and printed. In the index are references to Dumas (Alexandre) pÈre, and Dumas (Alexandre) fils. The musician who consults the work will be surprised at this unexpected development of these two famous authors' powers, but will be disappointed on referring to the numbers cited to find that they are reports of some legal proceedings brought by the firm of Alexandre pÈre et fils, the well-known harmonium-makers, against a rival firm. The indexer's better acquaintance with Les Trois Mousquetaires and La Dame aux CamÉlias led him astray.

My friend Mr. J. E. Matthew, who communicated this to me, adds: "After many years of constant use of the catalogue, this is the only mistake, beyond a literal, that I ever found."

---