I SUPPOSE a very orderly writer would have finished his introduction in the last chapter, beginning in this with definite instruction. But I feel so overwhelmingly the importance of the subject treated of in the last chapter—that is, the matter of taste—that I must before proceeding add a few more words to the subject. Besides, further review will strengthen the reader’s understanding of my principle of instruction, which is that the fitness of things, the taste which you display in following a certain kind of design, is as much a matter of study as is the drawing of an object.

For example, I used the words in the last chapter, “printing on rough paper.” Now, of course, that {164} term is indefinite, and, like our terms “magazine,” “city newspaper” and “country newspaper” printing, can stand only for some style of printing agreed upon

Front page of the French weekly, Gil Blas. Originally 10 3/4 inches by 15 3/4. This shows an excellent arrangement of type for the heading and subtitles. Also, the front page cartoon, done in excellent style, shows the use of outline and solid blacks on the main objects, with a little parallel lining behind the objects. The title means, “The Week in Pall Mall,” i. e., in London. “The Grand Prix [that is, the Spring race, the Derby] has been run; brothers, we must depart.”

by the writer and reader. Therefore, if you will allow, the term “rough printing” will stand for printing corresponding to all that done prior to the introduction of {165} coated paper, and where the type used was long primer or larger. And I choose, as a matter of taste, to insist upon it that all printing is bad that is not done in this way. Now, do not set me down as a faddist. I am not thoroughly converted to Morris’ printing, because in his matter the words are so closely run together that they are not read with ease, and, above all things, I do not consider the so-called “deckle-edge, handmade paper”—which in all probability is never handmade—such an “artistic” cloak to cover a multitude of sins as many printers consider it. The very fact that it is artificial and imitative makes it as objectionable as coated paper, which also is artificial and insincere.

The matter can be explained in this way: We may have no objection to a dress suit and high silk hat. We recognize in it as legitimate a style of dress as the workingman’s overalls; but we do not like to see a man working in a ditch clothed in a dress suit and silk hat. With this objection almost everyone will agree. But there are those who, wishing to follow the dictates of society, do not like to see a man, even if he is a lecturer or a bridegroom, disporting himself in a dress suit and silk hat at any hour of the day earlier than six o’clock.

Now, there are two distinct lines of judgment. The first is drawn so broadly that nearly all will agree. The second line is drawn so finely that but few may agree. But it is a fact that in either case the question is a matter of taste. So, then, when I claim that the title of a newspaper should be in heavy type, and not in such script as would be appropriate for a lady’s visiting {166}

DESIGN FOR THE COVER OF A DICTIONARY, PUBLISHED IN PAPER-COVERED PARTS. By Eugene Grasset. Admirable lettering (more closely following the Caroline manuscript than the design for La Revue Encyclopédique), united with harmonious design, the artist not being contented merely to introduce a girl with poster-like hair, but bringing out an idea—that of the expansive distribution of knowledge, signified by the dandelion seed, which is freely distributed by the wind; see motto “Je seme a tout vent.” I sow (or spread) seed with every wind. [see larger]

{167} card, most of you will agree with me. But when I claim that the title should be in very heavy block type, and not in French Old Style, I shall not have so many followers. Of course, it is true that circumstances alter cases, and while I think it quite necessary that a “Daily News,” “Journal” or “Press” should have the heaviest of type, I will acknowledge that a dainty little weekly in 8vo, called “The Needlewoman,” or “Embroidery Notes,” might be properly printed with a pica italic heading.