A rare find in the MSU Surplus Store book bin 

When staffers at the MSU Surplus Store sift through thousands of pounds of donated books each week, they never know what might surface. First editions, outdated textbooks, signed celebrity memoirs — even a signed Ted Nugent bowhunting guide — have made appearances. But last fall, tucked among the stacks of paperbacks and hardcovers in the donation bin, they uncovered something that stopped them in their tracks.

Immediately clear was the fact that this was an ancient volume. The beat-up pigskin cover was scuffed from centuries of handling. Inside, pages flowing with dense text printed in an archaic font. Kari Schubauer, the store’s books manager, recalled the moment. “We flip it open, and it’s written by a priest in Latin. You could tell right away it was important.”

Mystery of the religious tome

The book turned out to be “Theologia Moralis,” a treatise on moral theology by Austrian Jesuit Paul Laymann (1574–1635). Inside, the words “Leodile, Apud Guillielmum Ouwerx, 1672,” indicate that the book was produced in the city of Liège by the printer Guillaume Ouwerx in 1672. This edition was printed 37 years after the author’s death.

One of the leading Catholic moralists of his day, Laymann taught theology across Bavaria and Austria and produced dozens of influential works. His “Theologia Moralis” became a cornerstone text for Catholic seminaries and was reprinted for over a century.

How such a book ended up in the MSU Surplus Store’s dusty recycling bin remains a mystery. It bears no library markings, suggesting that it was privately owned. After a student worker connected with experts, MSU’s Special Collections confirmed that very few copies survive worldwide, and this one was in better shape than others known. The team hand-delivered the book to the library, where it now joins MSU’s treasure trove of rare works.

“It’s easily the oldest book I’ve ever handled here,” said Schubauer. “To think that someone just dropped it in the bin. It’s incredible.”

Treasure hunting, Spartan-style

While 17th-century Jesuit texts don’t appear every day, the MSU Surplus Store is full of surprises. On any given afternoon, the shelves hold roughly 5,000 books — everything from physics texts and automotive manuals to novels, poetry, cookbooks and comics. In recent years, staff have spotted:

• early volumes of “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” in its original two-part form;

• a first edition of “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory;”

• the first issue of the “Peanuts” comic series;

• signed works by well-known authors and celebrities.

And then there are all the other quirky finds throughout the store: a vintage eel-skin briefcase, handmade robots, a horse buggy and Spalding rubber handballs. For “surplustomers,” as surplus customers are known, browsing the store shelves can feel like a treasure hunt.

Sustainability meets scholarship

Beyond the thrill of discovery, the book program reflects the store’s larger mission: “to find the highest and best use” for donations. Instead of tossing books into landfills, the store seeks to give them a new life, reselling them at an affordable price to Spartans and locals — or, in rare cases, forwarding them to MSU Libraries’ Special Collections for preservation.

“There’s something wonderful about knowing a student can pick up a physics book here for a dollar,” said Schubauer. “Or that a faculty member’s lifelong collection doesn’t just disappear. It continues to be read, studied and loved.”

For a deal on books, check out the “Books by the Pound” sale Sept. 5, when browsers can fill a bag with finds at just $1 per pound.

A living library

The leather-bound artifact now rests safely in Special Collections, a survivor of early modern Europe. But its journey — through centuries of history, then into a donation bin and finally back into scholarly care — underscores the delightful and important role the surplus store plays.

Whether you’re a student searching for a better deal on a textbook, a faculty member hunting down an out-of-print reference or a nostalgic alum hoping to snag a Spartan memento, MSU’s Surplus Store reminds us that, occasionally, hidden treasures may just appear when — and where — you least expect it.