RECHERCHES
DE LA FRANCE
- and in the middle panel
PASQUIER.
- The engraved portrait facing the title-page to be washed and sized.
- Tears on pp. 721, 723 to be mended.
Pigskin, vellum, and morocco (by which I intend goatskin): there are no alternatives if durability be our aim; calf, of course, we have learnt long ago to eschew. No leather, except Russia, perishes more quickly or more easily. Rather have a book bound in cloth than in calf any day. Buckram is good and stands fairly rough handling; it is useful for binding catalogues and cheap books. See that your binder gives you good thick boards when he clothes your books in buckram.
Years ago, when books were most commonly bound in calf, a custom arose of stamping the lettering on thin pieces of leather of a different colour from the binding, and these were stuck on to the back of the book. There is no doubt that these leather labels have sometimes a pleasing effect, and for a time the custom was very popular. But it is a bad habit. Besides the meretricious effect generally produced, the paste which holds the label to the back of the book perishes in time, and the label drops off. A visit to any large second-hand bookshop will afford an admirable illustration of the result of this habit. Here one may see sets of Shakespeare's works and other classics which present a most woebegone appearance owing to several of the volumes having shed their labels. The only excuse for this custom that I have ever heard urged, is that one always knows when to rebind volumes so adorned: it is when the labels begin to fall.
As to the merits and demerits of the different coloured moroccos, you will find these fully dealt with in the bookbinding manuals. White and black we are warned against especially. The bookbinding authorities tell us that vellum, if exposed to a strong light, perishes and chips off like egg-shell; and we are warned to place vellum bound volumes with their backs to the wall, lettering the fore-edge with pen and ink, as was often done of old. But if kept away from the windows this precaution seems to be unnecessary. The beautiful brown vellum used for binding and repairing old books by Messrs. John Ramage and Son is very attractive and is, perhaps, as durable a binding as it is possible to have. Possibly other bookbinders use it, though I do not remember to have seen it used by any other firm. So far as I am aware this firm is the only one in London capable of executing work of the very highest class at a price within the means of the modest collector.
It has been said that there are only four bookbinders in London who may be trusted not to mutilate a book, and that there are only two who have any sense of design and harmony of colour. But this is not to be wondered at when we consider that the majority of the bookbinders' customers know nothing whatever of bookbinding good or bad, requiring only that their volumes shall present a gorgeous appearance to the eye. Consequently the ordinary binder is rarely called upon to pay those minute attentions to detail demanded by a hypercritical collector. Bibliophiles are born, not made, and it were foolish to expect that every bookbinder has the love of books at heart. In nine cases out of ten it is our own fault if the binder goes wrong, for it means that our instructions have been either too meagre or lacking in a knowledge of technical detail.
When sending a book to the binder, definite instructions should always be enclosed. The details should be set forth clearly on a slip accompanying the volume. It should be stated:
(i) Whether the book is to be bound in pigskin, vellum, or morocco (Levant, Niger, smooth or rough grained).