Gibbon in his autobiography has commented upon the sloth of 18th century Oxford and its absolute indifference to study. The records of the Bodleian substantiate the low point to which the intellectual life of the university had ebbed. The registers of books borrowed for the decade 1730-1740 show that only rarely were more than one or two books asked for in a day. In some cases a whole week is passed over without a single entry being made. The indifference throughout the university showed itself in the management of the library. For 92 years, that is, from 1768-1860, the Bodleian was so unfortunate as to be in the hands of only two men, the Reverend John Price, of Jesus College, who died in his eightieth year, and Dr. Bulkeley Bandinel, his son-in-law, who lived to be even a year older than his predecessor. As an illustration of Price's ideas of librarianship we have it noted by Professor Beddoes that "he discouraged readers by neglect and incivility, was very careless in regard to the value or condition of the books he purchased, and had little knowledge of foreign publications." When Captain Cook's Voyages were first published there was quite a demand for the work. Librarian Price promptly loaned it to the Rector of Lincoln College, telling him that the longer he kept it out the better, for as long as it was known to be in the library he would be perpetually plagued by inquiries after it. Price has been compared to the verger who sorrowfully complained that people were continually invading his church and "praying all over the place." However, it must in justice be said that Price's correspondence as printed by John Nichols in his "Illustrations of the literary history of the 18th century," shows him to have been helpful to some of the scholars of his day. Bodleian's librarians in the eighteenth century were mostly clerks in holy orders and it was not uncommon for them to fail to open the library at all on a Saturday if they were "taking duty in the country," on the following day. There is preserved in the Bodleian a scrap of paper which an angry scholar affixed to the door of the library in 1806 when he found it closed contrary to the statutes. On it were these words in Greek: "Woe unto you who have taken away the key of knowledge! Ye enter not yourself and hinder those who come." How striking is the difference between the lax administration of the 18th century and that of the 20th can be seen by a study of the Bodleian staff-calendar, an annual of over 400 pages in which are listed day by day the special duties of various members of the staff, with all sorts of suggestions for the improvement of the service.