It seems that a word is needed in defence of the perfectly legitimate and gentle pursuit of collecting book-plates. A great deal of sarcasm and indignation have found their way into the columns of periodical literature, particularly in England, the especial purpose of which is to trouble the humble collector, and to discredit him in the eyes of the world. He is pointed out as a destroyer of valuable books, as an animal so greedy in the pursuit of his insignificant prey as to ruin elegant bindings that he may secure worthless bits of paper, and as actually so devoid of good sense as to remove such of these as are interesting—for it is reluctantly admitted that some interest does attach to the plates used by certain men of fame in historical annals—from their rightful place within the covers of the very books read and handled by these illustrious owners.
Let it be remembered that but a small part of the many books published have a permanent value, and that a book once eagerly sought may outlive its usefulness, and come to have a commercial value of so much a pound as old paper, instead of so much a copy in different styles of binding. Surely, no one can quarrel with the collector who removes the book-plate, found within it, from such a worn-out specimen, even if the removal necessitates the ruin of the cover. But to remove a book-plate does not necessarily mean to ruin the cover; it requires some skill and considerable patience to remove a valuable plate without injury to either itself or the cover upon which it was pasted, but it is done daily. Surely no one can find fault with this—a skilful operation resulting satisfactorily to the plate-collector and to the book-owner.
