Book Collecting: A Guide for Amateurs

by J. Herbert Slater

Harris' Enquiry into the Causes of the Miscarriage of the Scots Colony at Darien (Glasgow, 1700); Bastwicke's Elenchus Religionis Papisticæ (1634); Blount's King William and Queen Mary, Conquerors, &c. (1692); the second volume of Wood's Athenæ Oxoniensis (1793); De Foe's Shortest Way with the Dissenters (1702); Pocklington's Sunday no Sabbath and Altare Christianum (1640); Sacheverel's Two Sermons (1710); and Coward's Second Thoughts concerning the Human Soul (1702), were all burned by the hangman, and copies destroyed wherever found.

Perhaps the most extraordinary instance of a work being destroyed for positively nothing at all is furnished by Cowell's Law Dictionary, which was sent to the flames by order of King James the First himself. This dictionary, and indeed every one of the books mentioned as having been subjected to the purification of fire, are now rare historical landmarks, and consequently both extrinsically and intrinsically valuable. Hence the reason of the high prices frequently demanded for them and for other works of this class.

The remaining copies of editions which were suppressed by their authors, or which have escaped accidental destruction, are frequently of considerable value. In the former class, Rochester's Poems and Mrs. Seymour's Account of the Origin of the Pickwick Papers are prominent examples; in the latter, the third folio edition of Shakespeare's Plays (1664), almost the entire impression of which was destroyed in the Great Fire of London. Dugdale's Origines Juridiciales (London, folio, 1666) was also almost entirely destroyed at the same time. Books coming under one or other of these classes are to be met with, and the note-book should always be at hand, so that a memorandum can be jotted down before the reference is lost. This course is adopted by the most experienced bibliographers, as well as by the amateur who wishes to become proficient in a study which is pleasant and profitable when conscientiously undertaken, but difficult and worse than useless to those who will not take the trouble to learn the rudiments of their science.

Works of limited issue are sometimes, but not always, nor indeed often, of especial value. It has been the practice for some years among publishers to issue works on what is nothing more nor less than the old subscription plan; but, unlike the hungry poets of old, who trudged the streets taking the price of copies in advance, the publishers keep faith with their subscribers. The edition is limited to a given number of copies, after which the type is distributed, and the plates—if the work is illustrated—broken up. Many speculators in books have endeavoured from time to time to "corner" editions so limited in quantity, buying at the published price, and subsequently selling again at an increased amount. In this way considerable sums have been lost, for works published on this plan have a decided tendency to fall in the market, and when this is the case they seldom if ever recover their former position. Hogarth's works, published in 1822, by Baldwin and Cradock, is a very good example of this tendency. The work was originally issued at £50, and the impressions, taken from Hogarth's original plates, restored, however, by Heath, are consequently of full size. There is a secret pocket at the end containing three suppressed and highly indecent plates, which considerably add to the value. I myself have many a time seen this large and sumptuous book knocked down in the auction room at sums varying from £3 to £5, and once bought a good copy by private contract for £4 10s. Ottley's Italian School of Design is another example. This work when on large paper, with proof impressions of the 84 tinted fac-similes of original drawings by Cimabue, Giotto, Guercino, and other famous painters, is worth about £3 by auction. The published price in 1823 was no less than £25 4s. The issue of each of these works was limited, but neither have succeeded in retaining its position in popular favour, and in all probability will decline still further in the market as time goes on.

The lesson to be learned here is that such phrases as "only 100 copies printed," or "issue strictly limited to 50 copies," frequently to be observed in publishers' and auctioneers' catalogues, should be taken cum grano salis. The description may be accurate, but it does not follow that the limitation necessarily increases the value of the book. On the contrary, it may be well imagined that the publisher hesitated to launch the book entirely on its own merits, seeking rather the extraneous inducement of a "limited number". The earlier editions of Ruskin's works are an exception to the rule, for that author's reputation is deservedly great, and he is, moreover, master of his own books, which from choice he has, until the last year or two, preferred to render difficult of access.

Volumes of transactions and proceedings of learned societies usually have a market value, which fluctuates much less than is usually the case. These being supplied to members only, and rarely published for purposes of sale, may be said to be both privately printed and limited in issue at the same time. As a rule they increase proportionately in value as the series becomes more complete, and a point once reached, they generally maintain it. Hence works of this character are safe investments—perhaps the safest of any.

The result of every investigation into the causes which regulate the value of books has shown conclusively that no publication is of great worth merely because it is scarce. The scarcity is a secondary and not a primary cause. Highly appreciated English publications of the sixteenth and two following centuries may be counted by thousands; but the number of inferior treatises, which have long ago sunk into eternal oblivion, which never were of any value, and never will be, are as the sand on the sea-shore.

However scarce and valuable a book may be, it must be remembered that the element of perfection has yet to be taken into account. It does not by any means follow that, because a copy of one of Shakespeare's 4tos is worth £300, another copy of the same 4to edition will be of equal value. It may be worth more or less, and here it is that the critical eye of the connoisseur and dealer tells. Defects, such as a tear in the cover or any of the leaves, stains, worm-holes, and the like, detract from the value; if these are entirely absent, the value may, on the contrary, be raised above the average. The fact of a rare book being "uncut," and in the original sound binding, clean, and free from blemishes, considerably add to its value.

The first part of a book to get worn out is the binding, for some one or more of its previous owners are almost certain to have ill-treated it either by bending the covers until they crack, or by leaving the work exposed to the rain and damp. When the volume is coverless, and usually not before, it will have been re-bound, and the binder will, in ninety-nine cases out of every hundred, have trimmed the edges, that is to say, planed them smooth with a machine he has for the purpose. Sometimes he will have cut as much as half-an-inch from the top, and nearly as much from the other edges; on other occasions, he may have been more merciful; but the result is the same, the book is damaged beyond hope of redemption, and the only question is as to the extent of the injury. The term "uncut," so often seen in catalogues, is, therefore, a technical term, meaning that the edges are left in the same condition as they were when the book was originally issued. It does not mean that the leaves are "not cut open," as so many people appear to think, but simply that the binder, with a fine sense of what is due to a volume of importance, has for once kept his shears in his pocket. The value of a book which has been cut is reduced to an extent proportionate to the quantum of injury inflicted: from 50 to 75 per cent. is the usual reduction, but many works are altogether destroyed. If a scarce book is sent to be re-bound, the binder should have the clearest instructions, in writing, that he is not to trim the edges. Should he do so, notwithstanding the direction, a by no means impossible contingency, he will do it at his own risk, and can be made to suffer the consequences.

Imperfect volumes are always a source of great inconvenience to the collector. First-class bookselling firms will not allow an imperfect book to leave their hands without notice to the purchaser, and, as a consequence, they charge a higher price than would be the case if the latter exercised his own judgment. There are mutual advantages to be gained in dealing with first-class people, for, if a mistake is made on one side or the other, there is usually no difficulty in rectifying it afterwards. Fine old crusted book-worms of the John Hill Burton type prefer, however, to exercise their own discretion in these matters, looking upon that as no inconsiderable part of the pleasure to be derived from the pursuit of their favourite occupation. They do not care to pay for being taught, at least not directly, and make it part of their business to find out for themselves whether a copy offered for sale is perfect or the reverse. As each page is usually numbered, there is no difficulty in ascertaining whether any are missing; not so with the plates, for, unless there is an index to these, the loss of one or two may hardly be noticed until the book comes to be collated with another copy known to be complete. This is a risk which the book buyer has to run, though, as a matter of practice, he protects himself when the purchase is an expensive one, and the dealer a man of credit.