A 17th-Century Treasure Hidden Among Donated Books—Here’s How It Was Discovered
Imagine tossing out an old book, only to later realize it was a centuries-old relic worth preserving. That’s exactly what happened at Michigan State University’s Surplus Store, where a routine donation bin yielded an unexpected gem: a rare 17th-century theological text bound in pigskin. But here’s the twist—most people wouldn’t even recognize its significance at first glance.
Every month, the MSU Surplus Store processes thousands of donated books, ranging from modern bestsellers to signed editions. While they’ve stumbled upon notable finds before—such as a bowhunting guide autographed by rock legend Ted Nugent or a first-edition Charles Darwin book on worms—nothing compares to the discovery made last October. Buried among the usual donations was a Latin text from 1651, titled Theologia Moralis, written by Austrian Jesuit philosopher Paul Laymann.
Chris Hewitt, the store’s operations coordinator, explained the meticulous sorting process: “We handle roughly 20,000 pounds of books monthly. A dedicated team sorts them by condition, value, and genre—but this one stood out immediately. The pigskin binding alone signaled it wasn’t just another old book.”
But here’s where it gets controversial…
The book’s origins were tricky to pin down. While the first page bore the year 1651, later sections suggested it might be a 1672 reprint—a common practice in an era when every page was painstakingly hand-pressed. “This wasn’t mass-produced,” Hewitt noted. “The thickness alone tells you it was a labor of love, likely used in Catholic seminaries for over a century.”
Who would donate such a rarity? The mystery deepens: the book had no library markings, hinting it spent centuries in private hands before ending up in a donation bin—perhaps by accident. “It’s humbling to think something so valuable was nearly lost,” Hewitt admitted.
And this is the part most people miss…
The Surplus Store isn’t just a graveyard for discarded items. While Laymann’s masterpiece now rests in MSU’s Special Collections, thousands of other books get a second life on their shelves. Even damaged donations serve a purpose—recycled into new paper rather than trashed. “Nothing goes to waste,” Hewitt emphasized. “Every book gets a chance to be rediscovered.”
Now, let’s debate: Could this discovery hint at other hidden treasures sitting in attics or donation bins? Or does it highlight a broader issue—how easily history can be overlooked in our rush to declutter? Share your thoughts below—have you ever stumbled upon something extraordinary where you least expected it?
