Book Collecting: A Guide for Amateurs

by J. Herbert Slater

In buying books at a cheap rate, or, in other words, when making a bargain either at a shop or an ordinary street-stall, the purchaser will have to observe the maxim, "Caveat emptor," and it will probably not be until he arrives home with his treasure under his arm that he will have the satisfaction of ascertaining that his bargain is a real one, or the mortification of adding another imperfect book to the long row already on his shelf.

Imperfect books are frequently what is called "made up," that is, completed from other copies, themselves imperfect in other respects. One complete book is worth more than two incomplete ones, and many desirable specimens, in the public libraries and elsewhere, are made up so well that it is frequently impossible to detect the hand of the renovator.

So long as all the leaves of a made-up book are of the same measurement, there would not seem to be much objection to this practice, but there certainly is when the paper of the interpolated leaves is different from the rest, or smaller in size, which it will be if cut down by the binder. Great care must be taken to see that neither of these defects is present, especially when, from the value of a book offered for sale, it may have been worth anyone's while to perfect it.

Another point to be observed in the purchase of very expensive and valuable works is, that none of the leaves have been fac-similed. These fac-similes are done by hand, and frequently so well that they cannot be detected without the aid of a strong glass. The late Henry Stevens tells a good story of a customer of his—Mr. Lenox, of New York, the founder of the Lenox Library, and a most indefatigable collector up to the last hour of his life. "Mr. Lenox was," says Stevens, "principled against raffles, wagers, lotteries, and games of chance generally, but I once led him into a sort of bet in this way, by which I won from him £4. I had acquired a fair copy of that gem of rare books, the quarto edition of Hariot's Briefe and True Report of the New Found Land of Virginea (London, Feb., 1588), wanting four leaves in the body of the book. These I had very skilfully traced by Harris, transferred to stone, printed off on old paper of a perfect match, the book and these leaves sized and coloured alike, and bound in morocco by Bedford. The volume was then sent to Mr. Lenox to be examined by him de visu, the price to be £25; but, if he could detect the four fac-simile leaves, and would point them out to me without error, the price was to be reduced to £21. By the first post, after the book was received, he remitted me the 20 guineas, with a list of the fac-similes, but on my informing him that two of his fac-similes were originals, he immediately remitted the four pounds, and acknowledged his defeat."

This Harris, whose name is prominently mentioned, was probably the greatest adept at this species of imitation who ever lived, and many important but defective works, now in the British Museum, left his hands, to all appearance, in first-rate order and condition.

"Laying down" is a technical term used to express the process of re-backing a torn plate or engraving. Many of the Shakespeare folios have the portrait and verses by Ben Jonson laid down or "re-laid," as the catalogues generally describe it. This, of course, can be detected at a glance, and it may be stated positively that a laid-down plate, frontispiece, or title is looked upon as a serious blemish, inferior only to the entire absence of one or more of the three.

Worm-holes, stains, fox-marks, and other flaws also detract from value; but as many of these may be removed by a judicious application of proper remedies, a special chapter will be reserved for their consideration. The market value of a book is thus composed of many elements, the chief of which is "condition"—above all things, a broad margin, and next, to that, leaves of spotless white.

I have already stated that where editions of the works of famous modern authors containing plates were originally issued in parts, such parts should, on no account, be bound up in volume form. The result of such a course cannot be better illustrated than by taking the well-known Pickwick Papers as our example, and studying the following prices, all realised at auction quite recently:—

Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club, original ed., with illustrations by Seymour & Browne, and the Buss plates, complete in numbers, 1837, 8vo, £8 10s.; £12 14s.; £8 10s.; £6 5s.; £11 5s.

Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club, original ed. (bound), with illustrations by Seymour & Browne, and the Buss plates, 1837, 8vo, £1 (half calf), £1 1s. (half calf), £3 (calf extra), £2 12s. (half morocco extra), £2 5s. (half calf extra), £1 7s. (half morocco extra), £3 10s. (calf, gilt, an unusually clean copy, recently sold at the Mackenzie sale). The evidence furnished by these quotations is conclusive, and illustrates the principle better than anything else can do, that, in the present state of the English book market, it is the height of folly to bind up original parts of this nature. If, however, it must be done, the depreciation in value may be reduced to a minimum by binding in the best style, and taking care that not only all the covers, but even the pages of advertisements, are bound up also. On no account must the edges be cut, or in any way tampered with, or the value will sink from pounds to shillings on the instant.