PASQUIER.

Pigskin, vellum, and morocco (by which I intend goatskin): there are no alternatives if durability be our aim; calf, of course, we have learnt long ago to eschew. No leather, except Russia, perishes more quickly or more easily. Rather have a book bound in cloth than in calf any day. Buckram is good and stands fairly rough handling; it is useful for binding catalogues and cheap books. See that your binder gives you good thick boards when he clothes your books in buckram.

Years ago, when books were most commonly bound in calf, a custom arose of stamping the lettering on thin pieces of leather of a different colour from the binding, and these were stuck on to the back of the book. There is no doubt that these leather labels have sometimes a pleasing effect, and for a time the custom was very popular. But it is a bad habit. Besides the meretricious effect generally produced, the paste which holds the label to the back of the book perishes in time, and the label drops off. A visit to any large second-hand bookshop will afford an admirable illustration of the result of this habit. Here one may see sets of Shakespeare's works and other classics which present a most woebegone appearance owing to several of the volumes having shed their labels. The only excuse for this custom that I have ever heard urged, is that one always knows when to rebind volumes so adorned: it is when the labels begin to fall.

As to the merits and demerits of the different coloured moroccos, you will find these fully dealt with in the bookbinding manuals. White and black we are warned against especially. The bookbinding authorities tell us that vellum, if exposed to a strong light, perishes and chips off like egg-shell; and we are warned to place vellum bound volumes with their backs to the wall, lettering the fore-edge with pen and ink, as was often done of old. But if kept away from the windows this precaution seems to be unnecessary. The beautiful brown vellum used for binding and repairing old books by Messrs. John Ramage and Son is very attractive and is, perhaps, as durable a binding as it is possible to have. Possibly other bookbinders use it, though I do not remember to have seen it used by any other firm. So far as I am aware this firm is the only one in London capable of executing work of the very highest class at a price within the means of the modest collector.

It has been said that there are only four bookbinders in London who may be trusted not to mutilate a book, and that there are only two who have any sense of design and harmony of colour. But this is not to be wondered at when we consider that the majority of the bookbinders' customers know nothing whatever of bookbinding good or bad, requiring only that their volumes shall present a gorgeous appearance to the eye. Consequently the ordinary binder is rarely called upon to pay those minute attentions to detail demanded by a hypercritical collector. Bibliophiles are born, not made, and it were foolish to expect that every bookbinder has the love of books at heart. In nine cases out of ten it is our own fault if the binder goes wrong, for it means that our instructions have been either too meagre or lacking in a knowledge of technical detail.

When sending a book to the binder, definite instructions should always be enclosed. The details should be set forth clearly on a slip accompanying the volume. It should be stated:

(i) Whether the book is to be bound in pigskin, vellum, or morocco (Levant, Niger, smooth or rough grained).

(ii) The colour.

And here let me say that it is always better to choose the leather (the actual skin) oneself. The binder will make up two little books, lettered with the collector's name on the cover, containing moroccos of different hues; one he will give to the collector, the other he will retain. As every sample in these books is numbered, when ordering it is merely necessary to give the number (written very distinctly!). It is perhaps superfluous to add that, at the outset, the collector will have obtained a guarantee from his binder that only acid-free skins shall be used in binding his books. And he will also be careful to avoid selecting the very bright tints, such skins not being so durable as those of more sombre hue.

(iii) Whether quarter, half, or whole binding.

(iv) If quarter or half binding, whether the sides are to be covered with cloth (buckram or linen, and colour) or paper (marbled or plain, and colour).

(v) Treatment of the edges: whether top edge gilt (t.e.g.), all edges gilt, gilt on red, gilt on the rough, marbled, sprinkled, yellow, red, or blue edges (the last two very effective on folio books bound in pigskin), edges trimmed or untrimmed, uncoloured, etc.

(vi) Round or square back.

(vii) Solid or hollow back.

(viii) Round or square raised bands, big or small, or 'no bands' (i.e. not showing).

(ix) End-papers (white, plain coloured or marbled).

(x) Whether, in the case of a large book, it is to have cloth joints (inside the covers).

(xi) Design in gold or blind tooling on sides and back.

(xii) Lettering on back. This should be given in capital letters precisely as it is desired to appear. If any lettering is required in a panel other than the title-panel (second from top), it should be stated which one; the number of the volume or the author's name is put sometimes in the third panel from the top and sometimes in the fourth.

(xiii) Leaves to be mended, cleaned, or pressed; and any directions regarding illustrations, maps, etc.

A goodly list? Yes, but a necessary one unless one is content to leave these things to the binder's discretion. He may be one of the two who are said to possess 'a sense of design and harmony of colour'; but unless the collector has enclosed instructions as to all these points, if on its return the appearance of the book displease him he has only himself to blame.

The care which the book-lover bestows upon his volumes should not end, however, when they return from the binder. Unless attended to from time to time a leather binding—however good the leather—will perish, probably, within a lifetime. Vellum, apparently, is everlasting, provided it be kept away from the light and not exposed to great changes of weather or temperature. But pigskin, goatskin, and of course calf, in time lose by evaporation certain fats which are inherent in the leather. Some collectors use furniture-polish or brown boot-polish to brighten up dingy old bindings, and this certainly has a pleasing (and often surprising) effect. But it is a bad practice, for the polish hardens the leather, which soon cracks worse than before. 'It would add immensely to the life of old leather bindings,' writes Mr. Cockerell, 'if librarians would have them treated, say once a year, with some preservative.' And he goes on to recommend that the bindings be rubbed over with a solution of paraffin wax dissolved in castor oil. Our book-hunter has used a preparation of glycerine for some years with success, but the paraffin wax promises to evaporate less rapidly. Old calf bindings should be treated at least once every year.

What shall we do with our volumes in 'original boards, uncut' when their paper backs become tattered, their labels illegible? Is there no other treatment for them than a visit to the binder's? That depends entirely upon one's energy, one's capacity for taking pains, one's neatness of finger, and the time at one's disposal. As I have said, the pleasure in handling volumes so attired is sufficient excuse for a desire to retain them in their original condition as long as possible. There is a facility in opening, a lightness in holding, and a simple charm in their appearance that is unknown to their more richly clad brethren. Our book-hunter for his part has long since given up sending such volumes to the binder's. Let the adept exercise his craft upon tomes in worn-out leather bindings; with the repairing of books in their original boards our amateur himself will deal.

It is not a difficult matter, and it can be done by the bibliophile at home. The first requisites are some sheets of strong, tough paper, brown and coloured. These can be procured for a few pence from any paper-merchant or place where they sell wrapping-paper. A pot of 'Stickphast' paste, a pencil, a ruler, a pocket-knife, and a pair of scissors are the accessories. Sometimes it is necessary only to re-back the volume. This is a simple matter. First of all the tattered paper on the back is scraped off, then a strip of brown or coloured paper is cut the required width and an inch and a half longer than the height of the volume. Cover the strip with paste, then take the volume in your left hand and paste the back and half an inch on to the sides, having first of all placed a sheet of clean paper, slightly larger than the book, inside the cover at each end (i.e. under the boards). This is to prevent soiling.

Now press the back of the book on to the strip, lying on the table ready pasted, so that it adheres; and with your right hand press the sides of the strip over on to the sides of the book. Experience will quickly teach you that if you use too much paste you will make a mess; whilst if you use too little the strip will not stick. If the paper is very thick it is necessary to rub the paste well into it.

Next put the back of the book upon the table (which we trust you have covered with a newspaper) and allow the boards to fall flat, holding the leaves upright. Now comes the tricky part of the business: you have got to fold the projecting ends of the new back over the top and bottom of the boards and under the body of the book. If this is not quite lucid, get a volume in boards and hold it as we have directed, you will soon see what is meant. It is a ticklish operation and the paper is easily torn if too thin or too damp. It also requires some patience, for probably you will find that the strip has come away from the sides during your manipulations. Press it down again and do the other end. Pressing and pulling gently and kneading are the secrets of success. A small rubber squeegee such as photographers use is useful here. With it you can press out the superfluous paste under the sides of the strip; but it must be used cautiously and not too hard.

Now close the volume, not forgetting to insert sheets of clean paper between boards and leaves at either end, take it up again in your left hand, and pat and finger it carefully till you are satisfied that all is well. Then remove a volume of similar thickness from a rather tightly packed shelf, and insert your patient in its place as far as the strip. Leave it here to dry for at least twenty-four hours.

If the original paper label is legible and intact, it can be easily soaked off the tattered back, though you may have to operate first of all with the pocket-knife to remove it entire from the book. Press it between blotting-paper and allow it to dry naturally. When the new back is dry (not before) the label may be pasted on to it. If, however, the label is missing or too tattered to be of service, there is nothing for it but to write another one with your best penmanship, copying the original, if you have it, in facsimile. Such labels should be written with Indian (waterproof) ink upon rather thin paper of a different colour from the back. Light buff is the most useful colour, though pale blue and light green can be used sometimes with advantage.

Should you wish to make your work look extra neat, and to disguise the fact that the volume has been rebacked, it is possible sometimes to raise the end-papers at the inner corners of the boards, so that the projecting ends of the backing-strip may be tucked under. So much for rebacking.

Sometimes, however, the boards are too dirty or broken to be retained, or some of the boards in a set of volumes are missing. Then there is nothing for it but to provide new boards or patch up and re-cover the old ones. Here again the labour is not very great. New boards may be cut from a cardboard box of suitable size and thickness. Those used by dressmakers are not very suitable, the card being generally too soft. If your volume lacks one or both boards, paste the back with stickphast, and then press on to it a strip of very thin linen (a strip torn from an old cambric handkerchief serves admirably) about two inches wider than the back and an inch shorter than the height of the book. The linen will project an inch on either side of the back. Now put the volume aside to dry.

When the back is dry, having provided suitable boards, paste the linen sides on the underside of each board, i.e. so that when the book is shut, the linen is between leaves and board. The best way to do this is to take a volume of similar thickness, cover it with newspaper, and place it flat upon the table with its fore-edge to the back of the 'patient.' Then lay the board on the supporting volume, and so paste the linen to it. Do one side after the other, stand the book 'ajar,' and allow to dry. Now you may proceed just as in re-backing, covering the boards first of all by pasting over them a rather thin but opaque paper. You will find the squeegee useful here. These side-papers are measured and cut one inch larger than the volume at head, foot, and fore-edge. The projecting edges are folded over the boards and rubbed down with the squeegee. The corners need some attention and pressing.

When you have re-backed your book and all is dry, you will have to provide it with end-papers. Any opaque white paper will do, provided it is not too stiff. That used for lining chests of drawers will answer the purpose, though a paper of slightly better quality is preferable. Measure it carefully about one-eighth of an inch less at head and foot than the height of the book. You need not trouble about the width: so long as the free edge projects beyond the fore-edge when you close the book it can be cut level afterwards. Do not use too much paste, and crease the paper carefully along, and slightly into, the 'joint' with an ivory paperknife. Do not close the book until it is dry.

Whenever you may have occasion to add new end-papers, remember to preserve all indications of the pedigree of your book, by which I mean traces of previous ownership. If there be a bookplate, soak it off, and when dry paste it inside the end cover. If there be autographs of interest on the boards, soak the paper off, cut out the writing and paste it back again when you have finished the book.

When you have provided your volume with new boards, however, you may prefer to clothe it in a 'whole binding'; that is, to use a single piece of paper to cover both back and sides. This is slightly more difficult and some little patience is needed; but when successfully accomplished the effect repays one amply. Lay your book on a sheet of coloured paper, so that the boards are flat whilst you are holding the leaves perpendicularly; then pencil and rule lines all round, leaving a margin of about three-quarters of an inch. Cut out this piece, paste it, paste the back and boards, and lay the book down again on the paper just as you did to begin with. The book is held in this position with either hand whilst the edges are turned up over the boards. It takes a little practice, and one requires some experience in the shrinkage of the paper used. Old boards that have their corners broken can be easily repaired by the use of plenty of paste rubbed well into the breaks, and by using fairly strong covering paper.

There is another matter of which mention must be made here, for it is a necessary adjunct to the binding of books, and that is cleaning, or washing, as it is generally called. Often one comes across leaves in a volume that are stained or spotted in such a manner as to spoil the appearance of the book which otherwise is perfect. Such blemishes can usually be removed when the volume is rebound. Either it is not such a difficult matter as many who have written of these things would have us believe, or else our book-hunter has been singularly fortunate. For he confesses to having achieved considerable success in this direction. Like all other matters involving care and thoroughness, it takes a good deal of time, and no small amount of trouble; but apart from these considerations there is no reason why any bibliophile endowed with patience and a capacity for taking pains, should not attend to the washing of his more 'grubby' volumes himself.

It is not the writer's intention here to go into the various processes employed, for that has been done already by experienced bookbinders; but perhaps the methods which he has employed successfully may be of interest and, possibly, of some use to beginners.

Perhaps it is hardly necessary to say that your first experiments should be made upon books of no value whatever, preferably volumes that have been picked out of the penny tub for this purpose. You will also have procured (if indeed you do not already possess) a copy of Mr. Douglas Cockerell's invaluable little book which I have already mentioned, and have studied it as has been suggested above. Mr. Zaehnsdorf's work also contains a chapter on this subject.

The paraphernalia required are not numerous or expensive, for they consist merely of three or four wide-mouthed glass-stoppered bottles in which to store your chemicals, and a few photographer's developing dishes (the deep ones, of white porcelain) of a suitable size for octavo, quarto, or folio leaves.

Obviously the first thing to do is to remove from the book the leaf or leaves that require cleaning. Unless, like Gerard de Leew, the Antwerp printer, you are 'a man of grete wysedom in all maner of kunnyng,' you will not attempt to clean the leaves of a book in situ. In fact he would be a very brave (or foolish) man who, without great experience, tried to remove any sort of stain from a page without removing the leaf first of all. Our own experience is that it is better to pull the whole book to pieces—or rather take it to pieces, for the word 'pull' in this connection makes one shudder. Carefully cut the threads that hold the quires to the bands, and little by little remove each quire. If the book is in an old leather binding, with a solid back, your task will be no easy one, for it is necessary to scrape away the glue from the back after it has been damped. A cloth dipped in very hot water and wrung out tightly is sometimes of use here, but you must use the greatest caution.

Having removed the leaf, or rather sheet of four pages (we will suppose that the volume has been 'cut') that requires cleaning, you have now to diagnose its complaint and prescribe the correct remedy, which you will have learnt from the text-books we have mentioned. But if the leaf is not merely stained in part, but altogether brown and discoloured, the following treatment probably will prove efficacious. Put half an ounce of permanganate of potash in a jug that holds about a pint and a half, and fill it up with hot water. Stir with a piece of wood until the permanganate is dissolved. Then lay your sheet in a developing dish and pour the hot solution in gently, taking care that there are no bubbles and that the leaf is completely covered. At the end of five minutes (or ten if the paper is thick and heavily sized) pour back the liquid into the jug, and, holding the dish over a sink, let cold water run across it in a gentle stream until all the permanganate is washed away.

The leaf will now be stained a deep brown. Stand the dish on end (the leaf of course sticks to the bottom of the dish) to drain while you prepare the bleaching part of the operation. Now take a similar jug, put half an ounce of oxalic acid into it, and again fill up with hot water. Pour this (hot but not boiling) over the leaf as before. When the leaf is as white as the dish itself, which will take from five minutes to a quarter of an hour, pour off the solution and wash the surplus fluid away. Then let the leaf wash in gently running water for one hour. Our book-hunter always uses the bath for this purpose, but a tin foot-bath under a tap does excellently. The best way to dry the leaf is to press it gently between two sheets of unused blotting-paper, then remove the upper sheet and allow the leaf to dry naturally. Remember, however, that after any washing or bleaching, leaves must always be 'sized' to give back to the paper that substance which the washing has taken out. You will find full instructions for doing this in the text-books I have mentioned. It is quite a simple matter.

Mr. Cockerell recommends that the permanganate bath be only 'warmed slightly,' and that the leaf be left in it for 'about an hour.' Our book-hunter has found (fortunately not to his cost, for the volumes which he used for experimental purposes were valueless) that this sometimes rots the paper, and on one occasion the leaves at the end of an hour came to pieces when the solution was poured off. If used hot and quickly it does not seem to injure the paper, but the water must never be so hot that you cannot bear your finger in it, and you must take care never to use a stronger solution. A strong solution of permanganate will reduce paper to pulp in a few minutes. For similar reasons our bookman prefers oxalic to sulphurous acid, but this too must never be used stronger than I have indicated. I hasten to add, however, in deference to such an excellent authority, that our book-hunter does not recommend, but merely states the methods with which he personally has been successful.

The most difficult stains to remove that the writer has yet come across are those made by a child's paint-box. Some colours are easily removed, but seventeenth-century gamboge is a perfect beast. The only successful way to deal with these 'stains' is by studying the chemistry of the 'colours,' and the re-actions of the chemicals of which they are made. With a little experimenting there is no reason why any of these pigments should not be removed successfully, and at some future period of leisure our book-hunter hopes to record his own experiences in this matter.

Here a word of warning. Do not handle permanganate of potash in the room where your bleached leaves are drying. If you do probably you will be annoyed to find small purple specks on the leaves where the fine permanganate dust has settled. It is unpleasant stuff to use, and stains everything with which it comes into contact. Undoubtedly it is at its best in a closely stoppered bottle. Rubber gloves would be useful, if they did not make one 'all thumbs.' Remember that oxalic acid will remove the stains from your hands just as well as from paper—also that it bleaches carpets. (Item, don't conduct your operations in the dining-room.) The best thing with which to handle the leaves when wet is a broad flat bone paper-knife with smooth edges. On various occasions when our bookman has not had time to complete the bleaching process, he has dried the leaves in their brown state and put them aside for a week before bleaching. So far he has not found this to have any ill effect on the paper, though possibly if kept for a longer period—especially if they got damp—the permanganate might rot them.

A very hot and strong solution of alum I have used with success for leaves that are more dirty than stained, and do not really require bleaching. Ether is excellent for stains of a greasy nature, though some may prefer the stains to the vapour which it gives off. With hydrochloric acid, so strongly recommended by some, I have never had any success. If used strong it destroys the paper, and if used weak the leaf has to be left in it for so long as to reduce the paper almost to a pulp. Remember that as a general rule, the shorter the process of washing the better. Long immersion tends to rot the fibres of the paper. With regard to staining the leaf so as to match the rest of the book, our book-hunter generally uses a solution of cigarettes (Virginians are quite the best). Possibly this is a very bad practice, but at least it is effective, the stain diffuses easily, and it can be regulated to any shade. Coffee is recommended by some.

Thumb-marks and the stains of dirty fingers are best removed by rubbing them lightly (and very carefully) with one of those disc-shaped erasers used by typists. These erasers remove the surface of the paper, so they must be used with extreme caution.[50]

There is yet another byway of book-collecting which we must study before we may graduate in book-lore. To the uninitiated the word 'bibliography' conveys little more than a mere writing about books. But it is a vast study, and, if we are to become proficient in it, one that will occupy us for many years.

For the specialist there is no more delightful pursuit than the compilation of a bibliography upon the subject of his choice. Not only will it give him a sound bibliographical knowledge of the books which he desires and hopes ultimately to possess, but it will enable him to collate immediately every volume that he acquires. It will also open up a new field of interest for the young collector, for he will be constrained to study books from their material aspect; and with a knowledge of the 'natural history' of the book will come a regard for the well-being of his volumes. So also will he be brought into touch with modern methods of bibliography, and he will certainly find an additional interest in his books.

The main objects of bibliography are, briefly, to determine

(i) Whether a book is genuine.

(ii) Whether it is complete and perfect.

(iii) Whether it is in its original condition, i.e. as it issued from the press.

(iv) Whether it has been made up by the insertion of leaves or quires from another copy or edition.

(v) To provide a standard collation (i.e. an accurate description of the book in its original state) with which other copies may be compared. For the purpose of the specialist we may add

(vi) To provide a bibliographical catalogue of those books in which he is especially interested.

All this may sound very simple, but it must be borne in mind that where no standard collation is available, the only method of providing one is by a diligent, thorough, and precise study of the leaves, quires, watermarks and 'make up' of a number of copies. As these things frequently vary considerably in different copies of the same book, the task of standardising a collation is by no means an easy one. The difficulties that beset one in the case of early-printed books are immense; but with the inconstancies of incunabula we are not concerned here.

It is easily begun, this making of a bibliography, and it is a delightful hobby, though necessarily it takes up a good deal of time. The plan which our book-hunter adopted is as follows, and it has been so successful and valuable to him that he has no hesitation in recommending it. First of all he procured a card-index box capable of holding about a thousand cards. Upon these he entered the books as he came across them in catalogues of all sorts, under the authors' names. Thus:

DIAGO (FRANCISCO)
Historia de los Antiquos Condes de Barcelona
Fo: Barcelona, 1603.

After each he generally pencils the price and bookseller, or other authority for the book's existence; but this is for his own guidance only, and is by the way. A fresh card is used for every book. This forms a rough index of every work upon his subject with which he is acquainted.

Now for the bibliography proper. For this our bookman uses single sheets of paper, eight inches by five, ruled with feint lines. These are contained in a 'spring-back' portfolio, thus forming a handy volume in which pages can be inserted anywhere at will. At the top of the page he writes the author's name, just as for the index, and beneath this (leaving a line blank) he copies the title-page of the book in extenso, using red ink for red print, capitals where capitals occur, and underlining those words which are in italics. The end of each line is indicated by a vertical stroke. Then follows a complete collation of the book. The following illustration, however, will convey a better idea than can be given in words. It will be noticed that after the size (which is given in the English notation) the measurement of the title-page in millimetres is added within parentheses. If more than one copy has been examined this measurement is of the largest. The reason why the form-notation is given as well as the actual size, is because it is easier to carry the form-notation in one's head.

BASNAGE (JACQUES)

DISSERTATION | HISTORIQUE | SUR LES DUELS | ET LES ORDRES | DE | CHEVALERIE. | PAR MONSIEUR B... | (printer's device) | A AMSTER DAM, | chez PIERRE BRUNEL, sur le Dam | a la Bible d'or. | M.DCC.XX.

12o (155 × 95), Amsterdam, 1720. pp: xvi, 163, x.

Title. 'Avertissement' (10pp.). Contents (4pp.). Pp: 1-163 Text. Then ten pages (unnumbered) containing the 'Table des Matières,' which begins on page 163 (b). At the end is a blank leaf, completing quire L. Reg: Prelim: *——* 8; Text and Index A——L8, in eights. [A].

The author, Jacques Basnage de Franquenet, was born at Rouen in 1653, studied at Saumur, Geneva, and Sedan, and became a Protestant minister in his native town. On the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes he retired to Rotterdam, where he devoted his life to literary researches. He died at the Hague in 1723. For his great reputation as a skilful diplomatist, see Voltaire's 'Age of Louis xiv.'

Another edition of this work was published in octavo at Basle in 1740.

Whenever our book-hunter has an afternoon to spare, pocketing a handful of cards from the index he sets off for the British Museum (or wherever he may happen to be working at the time, where access may be had to the volumes he requires) and settles himself to collate and copy title-pages. But it must be borne in mind that the collation of any volume cannot be considered as 'standard' until at least three copies of the book have been examined, all of which are identical. The majority of the common books printed after the year 1600 vary not at all in their make up; and having once collated such a volume, the comparison with it of other copies takes but a very few minutes. Sixteenth-century books, however, especially those printed in the first half of the century, vary sufficiently in their collations to demand a much more careful scrutiny. If the volume under examination is a book of which different copies vary considerably, you must naturally be exceedingly cautious in declaring that your collation represents the form in which the book was issued from the press. It is quite possible that you will find differences in each of six copies.

At the end of each collation our book-hunter puts a letter or letters in brackets to denote the habitations of the copies he has examined, the tallest copy (of which the title-page's measurements are given) being distinguished by an asterisk; thus: A, B*, N. 'A' represents our book-hunter's own copy, 'B' that in the Bodleian Library, 'N' that in the Bibliothèque Nationale; and so on. Mention, of course, from which copy the collation has been taken is made in the text; or, if you prefer it, you may denote this, so that it may be seen at a glance, by entering the necessary distinguishing letter in red ink.

As I have said, it is a fascinating pursuit, but unless the subject in which you specialise is a narrow one, you may be overwhelmed by the magnitude of the task. Take heed that you do not undertake more than you have time or opportunity to complete; or else, embarking upon a labour of Hercules you may liken yourself to Sisyphus. Mazzuchelli began 'Gli Scrittori d'Italia,' but succeeded in finishing only the first two letters of the alphabet. The temptation to leave behind us some great work by which our name will become in time a household word, is doubtless a great one; but gigantic though our magnum opus may be in our own estimation, it does not follow that others will set a like value upon it, or, indeed, upon the labours of its author. Jean de la Haye, the preacher in ordinary to Anne of Austria, published his Biblia maxima in nineteen folio volumes; but, says the bibliographer, 'no part of it is esteemed except the Prolegomena, and even they are too diffuse.' Louis Barbier gained the confidence of the Duke of Orleans by his great tact (which probably amounted to servility) and skill in repeating the tales of Rabelais. Mazarin appointed him Bishop of Langres for having betrayed his master. When he died in 1670, he left a hundred crowns to whoever would write an epitaph worthy of him. So Bernard de la Monnoye wrote the following:

'Ci git un très grand personnage,
Qui fut d'un illustre lignage,
Qui posseda mille vertus,
Qui ne trompa jamais, qui fut toujours fort sage,
Je n'en dirai pas d'avantage,
C'est trop mentir pour cent écus.'

But whether Bernard got the legacy history does not relate.

It is astonishing, however, what can be accomplished in this direction by diligence. Le Clerc, not content with having produced a 'Bibliothèque Universelle et Historique,' laboured till he had given to the world a 'Bibliothèque Choisie' and a 'Bibliothèque Ancienne et Moderne,' in all eighty-two duodecimo volumes! Beausobre and L'Enfant compiled a 'Bibliothèque Germanique,' comprising the period 1720-40; and published it in fifty volumes. Baillet's 'Catalogue des Matières' occupies thirty-five folio volumes. But of course all these were mere lists and criticisms of books, not detailed bibliographies of carefully collated works.

It is a great gift, this gift of 'finding time.' 'When I see how much Varro wrote,' says St. Augustine in his 'De Civitate Dei,' 'I marvel much that ever he had any leisure to read; and when I perceive how many things he read, I marvel more that ever he had any leisure to write.' The creation of opportunity is no lesser gift. 'A wise man,' says Bacon, 'will make more opportunities than he finds.' Tomaso de Andrada, a Portuguese Jesuit, wrote his magnum opus in a dungeon, in chains, without clothes, with little food, writing only in the middle of the day by the help of a faint light which he received through an air-hole.

The compilation of bibliographies began early in the history of books, and doubtless grew out of the catalogues which the early printers put forth. Conrad von Gesner compiled a 'Bibliotheca Universalis' which was printed at Zurich in four volumes between 1545 and 1555. François Grudé published a 'Bibliothèque Françoise' in 1584. It is a catalogue of French authors and is not confined to any particular subject, but at least it is a step in the direction of classification. From that date the number of these invaluable works has steadily increased, and about the middle of the seventeenth century L'Abbé put forth the first (?) of those useful book-collector's aids, a 'Bibliotheca Bibliothecarum.' This interesting little volume is really a list of books (under their authors' names) which also contain lists of authors. As L'Abbé says in the preface to his volume, so pleasantly dedicated 'Lectoribus Philobiblis,' he designs his book to be a 'Bibliothecam Bibliothecarum, Catalogum Catalogorum, Nomenclatorem Nomenclatorum, Indicem Indicum, et quid non?' The only edition which I have seen was printed at Paris in 1664, but the licence is dated 1651. Another edition was printed at Rouen in 1672, a third at Leipzig in 1682, and a fourth some years later, all in duodecimo or small octavo.

Grudé's book is a choice one. It is entitled 'Le Premier Volume de La Bibliothèque du Sieur de la Croix-du-Maine: Qui est un catalogue général de toutes sortes d'Autheurs, qui ont escrit en François depuis cinq cents ans et plus jusques à ce iourd'huy,' and was published at Paris 'Chez Abel L'Angelier' in 1584. It is one of those folio volumes printed in large pica on thick paper that delight the heart of the bibliophile and are a joy to handle. At the back of the title-page is an oval portrait of Henry of Navarre, dated 1581. He was not a handsome man, if one may judge by this portrait, in fact it would be difficult to draw a more repellent face; yet the book was dedicated to the king in a long 'Epistre au Roy' which ends with the author's quaint anagram 'Race du mans, si fidel a son Roy' (François de la Croix du Maine). But perhaps the portrait was omitted in the royal copy. The work was to have been completed in three volumes, of which the first two were to contain works published in the vernacular, and the third those printed in Latin. But alas! the author left only this first volume, which contains some three thousand authors, with short biographies of them. One hesitates to connect this premature end of the book (or, indeed, the author's assassination six years later) with the unlucky portrait! Altogether a very delightful volume.

Nowadays a bibliography that is not at once complete, detailed, and meticulously accurate is of no value. In this critical age when the methods of modern science are applied to books, it behoves the bibliographer to be careful, thorough, and precise. Unless he can bring these three attributes to bear upon his work, far better that he should never undertake it; for the result will be not only valueless but misleading, and he will certainly fail to obtain 'that lasting fame and perpetuity of praise which God and good men have consented shall be the reward of those whose published labours advance the good of mankind.'

There is one small appendage of the private library which must be mentioned before we close the chapter. A list of the prices which he has paid for his books forms a record that is indispensable to the book-collector. It is impossible to carry all one's 'bargains' in one's head, and if pencilled inside the book itself it is exposed to that publicity which one naturally shuns. Such a record is of something more than curious interest, for a knowledge of the rise or fall in the price of those books in which he is interested is essential to the collector. Whenever he comes across, in a bookseller's catalogue, a book that he already possesses, he will like to know how the present price compares with that which he gave for his copy.

A convenient shape for this useful book is an ordinary folio account book (our book-hunter's measures 15 inches × 9½ inches), and it should be ruled for 'cash,' with an inner margin. Between the inner margin and (outer) cash column he rules two lines, dividing the middle of the page into three columns, of which the left-hand one is the widest. The illustration over-page will show you precisely what is meant. At the top of each page is placed a letter of the alphabet, and, immediately beneath or alongside this, the date of a year. In the inner margin each line is numbered down the page. In the next column is written the author and short title of the book—sufficient to identify it—then the place where it was bought, then the date when purchased, and in the cash column the price which was paid for it.

In our book-hunter's ledger the first few pages are headed

Θ

(Books presented to me)

and the next heading is

Φ

(Books published by instalments, extending over several years)

Then comes

A

1900

and so on, each year having a letter assigned to it.[51]

Now for the practical use of this ledger. Inside the front cover of every one of his volumes our book-hunter affixes a book-plate; and in the left-hand bottom corner of this he writes the year-letter and number of the book's entry in his ledger: e.g. A 24, L 7, etc. Thus supposing that one wishes to find out when and where one acquired a certain book and how much was paid for it, one has only to raise the front cover of the volume in question, and find its index mark. Suppose it to be 'E 28.' Turning to our ledger we find that E represents the year 1904, and No. 28 is the volume in question. Similarly A 24 signifies No. 24 of 1900, L 7 is No. 7 of 1911, and so on. If your library be a large one, and a search for the volume would entail trouble, you may conveniently pencil this index mark against the book's entry in your catalogue, but in such a way that it cannot be mistaken for the shelf-mark.

It is as well to write the entries in the ledger upon the recto of the leaves only, so that the verso (being numbered like the opposite recto) may be used for recording the bindings, published prices, previous owners, etc., of the volumes opposite. When all the letters of the alphabet have been used up, they may be repeated doubled, as AA 4, DD 32, etc.

C 1902 C