Leather-work when much worn is seldom restored, and, except by a few experts, it is generally regarded as incurable. That is to say, that leather-work is only repaired by the same method in which it is made—that is, by sewing—when in fact a great deal is lost which might be saved, and much imperfectly repaired which might seem like new by resorting to a more scientific process. And therefore, having devoted much attention to it, I am persuaded that the worst cases may be mended. Within a week I purchased two small folio volumes which had been beautifully bound in black leather, embossed in deep relief, about 1520, in a style which was then becoming antiquated. The pattern had been cut in a wooden mould, stamped on the wet leather, and then completely worked over by hand with tracers and matted or stamped in the ground. But the black colour had been worn away from the relief and turned brown, and it was otherwise dilapidated at the edges.

I took a volume and where the surface was ragged moistened it, applied gum-arabic in solution, and smoothed it down with an agate burnisher. Leather treated in this way soon becomes like a paste. When it was all even I painted it over with strong liquid Indian ink. Common ink would have done as well. Then I varnished it over lightly with the admirable vernis à retoucher, No. 3, of Soehnée, which is flexible, preservative, and does not crack. I may add for ladies that it smells like eau de cologne. This dries almost immediately. It may be had at all artists’ material shops. Finally, I rubbed it for some time by hand. Then the binding was as good as new, yet not too new. It was simply perfectly restored.

I have in the introduction mentioned another work which I also restored. This was a Madonna in high relief, very much dilapidated; that is to say, it was of thin leather, which had been originally made in a mould, and was accordingly puffed out, so to speak, like a pie-crust. On the mould there had been laid a coat of muslin or cotton fabric; this, when dry, had been very thinly covered with gesso or plaster of Paris, and on this, when dry, a thin wet leather had been pressed. I may here note that very often the gesso was then blackened without any leather being applied, and that when thus blackened, covered, and varnished it looked exactly like leather—an easy art, which may be practised to profit by any one who can carve or buy moulds.

On examining this, I found that it would be very difficult to repair it with good leather. I found in a shop some thin black sham-leather, such as the Japanese apparently manufacture from leather dust, made by grinding up all kinds of leather waste to a powder. It was wretched, rotten stuff as leather, but all the better suited to my purpose. Some of this I cut into small bits, and with a knife soon mashed it, mixed with gum-arabic and water, into a very smooth paste. With such a paste one can repair any tear, roughening, or imperfection, care being taken that the paste and leather be alike in colour. With this I filled the hollows at the back, making the work solid; and having wetted all the ragged edges and fractured or torn places, smoothed them down with gum and a pen or paper knife, supplying deficiencies with the black paste. When all was smooth and dry I applied a coat of Soehnée’s varnish, and then rubbed it well down by hand. It was quite restored.

As this varnishing leather may sound like a heresy to artistic leather-workers, I would ask them if they would consider an application of tannin in solution—which is the preservative principle of leather itself—as “inartistic.” Certainly it is not, nor is the application of Soehnée (which is more of a simple preservative than a glaze) a mere finish for show.

The leather-paste of which I speak has certain qualities of its own which make it quite different from any other substance. We may include in leather “paste” not only the mere dust made from the dried substance, but all scraps, and also any thin leather, thoroughly softened or macerated. Even in the latter form it is, combined with a binder, really a plastic substance, since it can be worked into any form with ease. Mixed with caoutchouc or indiarubber in solution, and then dried, it is invaluable for mending boots and making waterproof soles. As I have indicated, it is excellent for mending old books. And here I may mention that if you have, let us say, one cover of a book in high relief, and the other, it may be, lost or worn plain, you can supply or make the duplicate very easily, very cheaply, and in a short time as follows:—Take a sheet of soft, white newspaper, dampen it, and press it on the relief. As soon as possible, taking care not to wet the book, fill in the back of the squeeze either with other coats of wet paper, melted wax, or liquid plaster of Paris. When this is dry, wax or oil carefully the face of the squeeze, wipe it dry, and make a cast from it in leather-paste. Thus you will have a facsimile of the relief. From a solid plaster mould, well oiled or boiled in wax, a cast may be taken in softened or wet leather, which is even better; it sets hard and tough.

I may here mention that it is very unusual to see books bound in deep relief with hand-worked, black, or black and gold, antique patterns, and that such a cover, say of eight by ten inches, would probably cost at least a pound, and be cheap at that. And yet any girl of ordinary capacity with, let us say, fifty shillings’ worth of moulds, and two weeks’ practice in tracing and stamping grounds, could produce from two to four such book-covers as those before me in a day.

There is now generally sold in furnishing or chemists’ shops a good waterproof glue. Leather softened and then well incorporated with this is also waterproof, and may be used to mend trunks. I have known a torn boot to be mended in this manner, and that so well that it lasted for a long time. Even a leather strap which is subjected to great tugging may be restored, if cut or broken in two, by shaving the edges obliquely, so as to sharpen them.

Then apply glue with acid, and before it is quite dry apply pressure, though not so great as to squeeze the glue out. Shaving across the edges, judicious pressing together, and final smoothing are of the greatest importance in all leather patching and piecing, because it depends on these to make the juncture imperceptible. Very few persons—even shoemakers—are at all aware of the degree of perfection to which mending rents in foot-covering can be carried by the use of waterproof glue, such as is sold by many chemists. I have worn such a patch for months, and it was hardly perceptible. But, like every art, it requires some practice to apply such patches properly, and I cannot promise to any lady that she can perfectly and neatly patch a boot by simply daubing on a piece of leather at a first trial.