TINY THINGS

No. 60 (Fall/Winter 2024)

Print this Article
Table of Contents
Cover Page

Morsels of History

Emi Hastings

Curator of Books

Using a penny for scale, an assortment of mini books are displayed. They include bibles, almanacs, and pocket lexicons.

In a quest for the extraordinary, book collectors are often drawn to extremes. This may include the “first,” the rarest, and even the biggest or smallest of books. For the lover of small things, a tiny book has an enduring charm out of proportion to its diminutive size. A miniature book is often defined by collectors as 3 inches (7.6 cm) or under in all dimensions, although the Library of Congress allows miniatures to be up to 3.9 inches (10 cm) in height or width. What draws someone to a miniature version of a text, when a larger version may often be cheaper and easier to read?

The reasons for making miniature books are as varied as the books themselves, but several overall trends emerge. First, the utility of a pocket-sized object is readily evident. In contrast to a large hardcover volume, a lightweight little book can travel anywhere and be kept in a pocket or purse. For reference texts such as almanacs or dictionaries, this easy portability is a clear advantage. Indeed, the titles themselves often suggest the purpose, such as Day’s New-York Pocket Almanac, for the Year 1832 (New York, 1831; 8 cm), The Reticule and Pocket Companion, or, Miniature Lexicon of the English Language (New York, 1856; 9.5 cm), and Jenkins’s Vest-Pocket Lexicon (Philadelphia, circa 1861; 9.4 cm). Other examples of miniature reference works from the Clements Library collections include Spon’s Brewing Calculations (London, 1897; 6.2 cm), a book of tables and formulae for brewers, and Routledge’s Ball-Room Guide (London, 1866; 9.4 cm), an etiquette book for ballroom dancing.
Fiction, poetry, and drama also lent themselves to smaller formats, offering the ability to travel with a greater variety of reading material. In a time before electronic texts, an entire miniature library could thus be transported in one’s suitcase. While the Clements Library does not contain an example of a dedicated traveling library, many of its smaller volumes would have been ideal traveling companions for an avid reader.

Many of the earliest printed miniature books were religious in nature, including such texts as Books of Hours, psalms, and Bibles. For these works, their miniature format served as a religious talisman or a personal reminder of faith, allowing the book to be kept close to one’s body. While the miniature text was still readable, turning the tiny pages required careful attention and focus, a kind of intimacy with the text that called attention to the physical format.

Cover and title page of "Fanny's Fair."

The “Aunt Fanny” of Fanny’s Fair (Buffalo, 1866) was Frances Dana Gage, a feminist and abolitionist who served during the Civil War as superintendent of Parris Island, a refuge for freed slaves in South Carolina.

Miniature Bibles, often called thumb Bibles, began in the 17th century in England and became especially popular in America in the 19th century. They contained a summarized version of the biblical text, sometimes with illustrations. While the first English thumb Bibles may have been intended for adult readers, later American editions were often specifically adapted for children. An edition of Bible History (New York, 1813; 5 cm) states in the preface, “It is hoped, the perusal of this little treatise will so attract the young mind, as to excite a curiosity and love for the scriptures at large.” The possession of a miniature Bible would thus lead the child to further study of the full-sized family Bible.

Of course tiny books have always held a fascination for children, whether as playthings, educational tools, or treasured keepsakes. The 19th century also saw the emergence of secular miniature children’s books in addition to thumb Bibles and other religious literature. Books written by Frances Elizabeth Barrow (1822–1894) under the pen names “Aunt Laura” or “Aunt Fanny” were especially popular, including titles such as Orphan Willie (Buffalo, 1862; 5.4 cm), Little Katy and Her Mother (Buffalo, 1863; 4.1 cm), The Dolls’ Surprise Party (Buffalo, 1863; 4.7 cm), and Morsels of History (Buffalo, 1863; 4.7 cm). Other “Aunt Fanny” stories have been variously attributed to Barrow or to Frances Dana Gage (1808–1884), including Fanny’s Fair (Buffalo, 1866; 3.7 cm), a book about a fair to raise money for poor and wounded Civil War soldiers. 
Cover and title page of "Fanny's Fair."

The Bible in Miniature (London, undated) bound in dark leather with decorative stamping in gold. An inscription on the flyleaf read “Mabel Smith from Papa.” Contrasted with a full-sized family Bible in a similar leather binding, The Holy Bible, containing the Old and New Testaments (Oxford, 1740) from the Weld-Grimké family papers. 

The American Tract Society published numerous miniature books between 1825 and 1899, both for adults and children. Popular devotional works for adult readers included Dew-Drops (Philadelphia, 1884; 5.6 cm), A Threefold Cord (New York, 1953?; 8 cm) and Daily Food for Christians (Boston, between 1882 and 1900; 8 cm), all in multiple editions. The American Sunday-School Union in Philadelphia was also a prolific publisher of miniature books for children, including a popular book of prayers called Small Rain Upon the Tender Herb (Philadelphia, ca. 1835; 3.6 cm)

Schloss’s English Bijou Almanac for 1839 (London, 1838). Red leather slipcase with magnifying glass.

The miniature format challenged craftspeople to create legible tiny type and to produce objects of exquisitely minute detail. While some miniature books were more crudely made, others were meant to serve as decorative objects and demonstrations of the craftsperson’s’s skills. For books such as Wünsche zum Beylager (Berlin, 1767; 2.5 cm) and Schloss’s English Bijou Almanac for 1839 (London, 1838; 2 cm), the craftsmanship of the physical object was on full display. Wünsche zum Beylager was bound in embossed silver boards and housed in a modern box of dark green leather, tooled in gold. Schloss’s English Bijou Almanac was too tiny to serve as a practical reference work, but instead was housed like a jewel in an exquisitely detailed red leather case, lined in velvet. Other miniature books, large enough to be readable, could also function as decorative keepsakes. For example, The Gift of Gifts (New York, 1883; 7.8 cm) was a collection of Bible quotations accompanied by lavish floral illustrations and bound in pictorial publishers’ cloth. 
One miniature title in the library’s collection is a rare example of a satirical miniature. Gen. Cass’ Letter to the Harbor and River Convention (Chicago, 1848; 4 cm) was a miniature pamphlet that reprinted the text of a letter sent by Lewis Cass to W. Whiting of Chicago, in which he declined the invitation to attend the convention. The text was in English with a French translation, and accompanied by a folded facsimile of the original letter. Two variants are printed in Chicago by the Journal Press, one including a German translation, and one in Rochester by the Genesee Harbor Office. Some copies reportedly had an erratum at the end, lacking in the Clements copies: “In the last line in the word Cass the ‘C’ should be omitted.” The sly dig at Cass revealed the true purpose of the publication, which was produced during the presidential campaign of 1848 as a piece of political campaign literature against Cass. While others who had been invited expressed approval of the convention, Cass merely wrote: “Dear Sir, I am much obliged to you for your kind attention in transmitting me an invitation to attend the Convention on internal improvements which will meet in Chicago in July. Circumstances, however, will put it out of my power to be present at that time. I am Dear Sir, Respectfully Yours, Lewis Cass.” The brevity of the letter, paired with the tiny format of the book, made its own statement. 

Gen. Cass’ Letter to the Harbor and River Convention (Rochester, 1848). Yellow pictorial printed wrappers, satirical advertisement on rear wrapper. 

Charles Knowlton, Fruits of Philosophy, or, The Private Companion of Young Married People (Boston, 1833). Bound in plain brown publishers’ cloth. 

Lastly, miniature items were easier to conceal when the information was private or needed to be kept secret. One example of this purpose was Charles Knowlton’s Fruits of Philosophy, or, The Private Companion of Young Married People (Boston, 1833; 8 cm). This controversial book, originally published anonymously in 1832, was one of the earliest American works on contraception. Although it sold numerous copies, the descriptions of female genitalia and birth control methods were considered obscene by many. The copy at the Clements Library was plainly bound in brown publishers’ cloth, and its unassuming appearance and size would have made it easier to keep private. Knowlton was prosecuted for obscenity and sentenced to three months’ hard labor in Cambridge, Massachusetts, in 1833.

Beyond their immediate appeal as adorably small objects, miniature books served a variety of purposes, ranging from the frivolous to the sacred. The miniature format made a religious text seem more personal or more appealing to young readers, transformed a plain volume into a tiny work of art, or made information easier to access on the go, whether you needed to look up an unfamiliar word, make a quick calculation, or read a favorite work of literature on the train. The lasting appeal of miniature books speaks to the many different audiences they have served and the ways in which they have been consumed by generations of readers.