Chapter XVI: Part 16

_19th Century._--great change in the appearance of books was caused by the use first of glazed calico (about 1820), afterwards (about 1830) of cloth for the cases of books as issued by their publishers. At first the lettering was printed on paper labels, but soon it was stamped in gilt on the cloth, and in the last quarter of the century many very beautiful covers were designed for English and American books. The designs for leather bindings were for many years chiefly imitated from older work, but towards the end of the 'eighties much greater originality began to be shown. Book illustrations passed through many phases. As subsidiary methods colour-prints, line engravings, lithographs and etchings were all used during the first half of the century, but the main reliance was on wood-engraving, in which extraordinary technical skill was developed. In the 'sixties and the years which immediately preceded and followed them many of the chief English artists supplied the engravers with drawings. In the last decade of the century wood-engraving was practically killed by the perfection attained by photographic methods of reproduction (see PROCESS), the most popular of these methods entailing the use of paper heavily coated with china clay. During the century trade-printing, both in England and America, steadily improved, and the work done by William Morris at his Kelmscott Press (1891-1896), and by other amateur printers who imitated him, set a new standard of beauty of type and ornament, and of richness of general effect. On the other hand the demand for cheap reprints of famous works induced by the immense extension of the reading public was supplied by scores of pretty if flimsy editions at 1s. 6d. and 1s. and even less. The problem of how to produce books at moderate prices on good paper and well sewn, was left for the 20th century to settle. About 1894 the number of such medium-priced books was greatly increased in England by the substitution of single-volume novels at 6s. each (subject to discount) for the three-volume editions at 31s. 6d. The preposterous price of 10s. 6d. a volume had been adopted during the first popularity of the _Waverly Novels_, and despite the example of France, where the standard price was 3 fr. 50, had continued in force for the greater part of the century. Even after novels were sold at reasonable rates artificial prices were maintained for books of travel and biographies, so that the circulating libraries were practically the only customers for the first editions. (See PUBLISHING and BOOKSELLING). (A. W. Po.)

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Works especially devoted to these facsimiles are:--Berjeau's
_Early Dutch, German and English Printers' Marks_ (London, 1866); W.
Roberts's _Printers' Marks_ (London, 1893); Silvestre's _Marques
typographiques_ (French; Paris, 1853-1867); _Die Buchermarken oder
Buchdrucker und Verlegerzeichen_ (Strassburg, 1892-1898), the
successive parts containing the devices used in Alsace, Italy, Basel,
Frankfort, Mainz and Cologne; and _Marques typographiques des
imprimeurs et libraires qui ont exerce dans les Pays-Bas_ (Gand,
1894). Numerous devices are also reproduced in histories of printing
and in volumes of facsimiles of early types.

[2] An edition of a bull of Pope Pius II. in the John Rylands
library, Manchester, in types used by Fust and Schoeffer at Mainz,
bears printed on the top of the first page the words "Dis ist die bul
zu dutsch die unser allerheiligster vatter der bapst Pius herusgesant
hait widder die snoden ungleubigen turcken." This is attributed to
the year 1463, and is claimed as the first book with a printed
title-page.

BOOKBINDING.

Origins.

Bindings or covers to protect written or printed matter have always followed the shapes of the material on which the writing or printing was done. Very early inscriptions on rocks or wood needed no coverings, and the earliest instances of protective covers are to be found among the smaller Assyrian tablets of about the 8th century B.C. These tablets, with cuneiform inscriptions recording sales of slaves, loans of money and small matters generally, are often enclosed in an outer shell of the same shape and impressed with a short title. Egyptian papyrus rolls were generally kept in roll form, bound round with papyrus tape and often sealed with seals of Nile mud; and the rolls in turn were often preserved in rectangular hollows cut in wood. The next earliest material to papyrus used for writing upon was tree bark. Bark books, still commonly used by uncultured nations, often consisting of collections of magical formulae or medical receipts, are generally rolls, folded backwards and forwards upon themselves like the sides of a concertina. At Pompeii in 1875 several diptychs were found, the wooden leaves hollowed on the inner sides, filled with blackened wax, and hinged together at the back with leather thongs. Writings were found scratched on the wax, one of them being a record of a payment to Umbricia Januaria in A.D. 55. This is the earliest known Latin manuscript. The diptychs are the prototypes of the modern book. From about the 1st to the 6th century, ornamental diptychs were made of carved ivory, and presented to great personages by the Roman consuls.

FIG. 1.--WINCHESTER DOMESDAY BOOK OF THE 12TH CENTURY.

Dark brown morocco, blind stamped.

FIG. 2.--ST. CUTHBERT'S GOSPELS.

Red leather with repousse design, probably the work of the 7th or
8th century. The fine lines are impressed by hand, and painted blue
and yellow.

FIG. 4.--BINDING MADE FOR JAMES I.

Dark blue morocco, gold tooled. The red in the coat-of-arms inlaid
with red morocco.

FIG. 3.--BINDING MADE FOR JEAN GROLIER.

Pale brown morocco, gold tooled.

FIG. 5.--COMMON PRAYER (LONDON, 1678).

Smooth red morocco, gold tooled with black fillets. Bound by Samuel
Mearne.

FIG. 6.--LE LIVRE DES STATUTS ET ORDONNANCES DE L'ORDRE DU BENVIST
SAINCT ESPRIT (PARIS, 1578).

Brown morocco, gold tooled, arms of Henry III., King of France.
Bound by Nicholas Eve.

FIG. 7.--CATALOGUE OF THE PICTURES AT HAGLEY HALL.

Red niger morocco, gold tooled. Bound by Douglas Cockerell.

FIG. 8.-WALTON'S COMPLEAT ANGLER (1772).

Golden brown morocco, gold tooled. Bound by Miss E.M. MacColl.]

Rolls of papyrus, vellum or paper were written upon in three ways, (1) In short lines, at right angles to the length of the roll. (2) In long lines each the entire length of the roll. (3) In short lines parallel to the length of the roll, each column or page of writing having a space left on each side of it. Rolls written in the first of these ways were simply rolled up and kept in cylinders of like shape, sometimes several together, with a title tag at the end of each, in a box called a scrinium. In the case of the second form, the most obvious instances of which are to be found in the Buddhist prayer-wheels, the rolls were and are kept in circular boxes with handles through the centres so that they can revolve easily. In the third manner of arranging the manuscript the page forms show very clearly, and it is still used in the scrolls of the law in Jewish synagogues, kept on two rollers, one at each end. But this form of writing also developed a new method for its own more convenient preservation. A roll of this kind can be folded up, backwards and forwards, the bend coming in the vacant spaces between the columns of writing. When this is done it at once becomes a book, and takes the Chinese and Japanese form known as _orihon_--all the writing on one side of the roll or strip of paper and all the other side blank. Some books of this kind are simply guarded by two boards, but generally they are fastened together along one of the sides, which then becomes the back of the book. The earliest fastening of such books consists of a lacing with some cord or fibre run through holes stabbed right through the substance of the roll, near the edge. Now the _orihon_ is complete, and it is the link between the roll and the book. This "stabbed" form of binding is the earliest method of keeping the leaves of a book together; it occurs in the case of a Coptic papyrus of about the 8th century found at Thebes, but it is rarely used in the case of papyrus, as the material is too brittle to retain the threads properly.

The method of folding vellum into pages seems to have been first followed about the 5th century. The sheets were folded once, and gatherings of four or more folded sheets were made, so that stitches through the fold at the back would hold all the sheets together and each leaf could be conveniently turned over. Very soon an obvious plan of fixing several of these gatherings, or quires, together was followed by the simple expedient of fastening the threads at the back round a strong strip of leather or vellum held at right angles to the line of the backs. This early plan of "sewing" books is to-day used in the case of valuable books; it is known as "flexible" work, and has never been improved upon.

As soon as the method of sewing quires together in this way became well understood, it was found that the projecting bands at the back needed protection, so that when all the quires were joined together and, so far, finished, strips of leather were fastened all over the back. But it was also found that vellum leaves were apt to curl strongly, and to counteract this tendency strong wooden boards were put on each side. The loose ends of the bands were fastened to the boards, which hinged upon them, and the protecting strip of leather at the back was drawn over the boards far enough to cover the hinge. So we get the medieval "half-binding" which shows the strip of leather over the back of the book, projecting for a short way over the boards, the rest of which is left uncovered. The boards were usually kept closed by means of clasps in front.

The leather strip soon developed, and covered the whole of the boards, "whole" binding as it is called, and it was quickly found that these fine flat pieces of leather offered a splendid field for artistic decoration.

Progress of artistic binding.

The first ornamentation on leather bindings was probably made by means of impressions from small metal points or lines, pressed upon the leather. This in time led to the purposeful cutting of small decorative stamps to be used in the same way. It is considered that English binders excelled in this art of "blind" stamping, that is, without the use of gold leaf. Most of the stamps were cut intaglio, so that their impressions are in cameo form. Such bindings were made to perfection during the 12th and 13th centuries at Durham, Oxford, Cambridge, London and other places. One of the most charming examples left is the binding of the Winchester Domesday Book of the 12th century (Plate, fig. 1), now belonging to the Society of Antiquaries of London.

From about the 7th to the 16th century illuminated manuscripts were held in the greatest esteem. Among them can be found not only exquisite calligraphy but exquisite miniature painting. Moreover, the gorgeousness of the illuminations inside suggested gorgeousness of the outside coverings, so we find splendid work in metals with jewels, enamels and carved ivory, dating from the 7th-century _Gospels of Theodolinda_ at Monza, the Irish cumdach of the _Stowe Missal_, the _Lindau Gospels_ now in America, and the _Gospels of Charlemagne_ in the Victoria and Albert Museum at South Kensington, to the magnificent bindings of 14th-century Limoges enamel in the British Museum. Such English bindings of this kind--intrinsically precious--as may have existed have all disappeared,--most likely they were melted up by Henry VIII. or Edward VI.; but at Stonyhurst there is a book known as _St Cuthbert's Gospels_, which is bound in red leather with a repousse design upon it, and is probably the work of the 7th or 8th century (Plate, fig. 2).

When printing was introduced into Europe about the middle of the 15th century, there was very soon a reaction against the large, beautiful and valuable illuminated MSS. and their equally precious covers. Printing brought small books, cheap books, ugly books, generally bound in calf, goatskin or sheepskin, and ornamented with large panel stamps in blind. But a new art came into birth very shortly, namely the art of gold tooling on leather, which in capable hands is almost a great art, and specimens of the work of the few great masters that have practised it are now much sought after and likely to increase in estimation and value. All this, as usual, brings a school of skilled _faussaires_ into the field, and already the collector of fine bindings must be wary, or he may easily give thousands of pounds for forged or made-up objects that are worth but little.

In the matter of leather bindings with gold tooling, an art which was probably brought to Venice from the East, the finest examples are to be found in late 15th-century Italian work. The art quickly spread, and Thomas Berthelet, Royal Binder to Henry VIII., seems to have been the first binder who practised it in England. Berthelet's work is strongly Italian in feeling, especially at first, and it is likely that he was taught the new art by an Italian master; he worked until about 1558.

During the late 15th and the 16th century in England, numbers of fine printed books were bound in velvet and satin, sometimes set with enamels, sometimes embroidered. These books, having strong threads of metal freely used upon them, have lasted much better than would be expected, and instances of such work made for Henry VIII. are still in excellent condition, and most decorative.

The fashion of ornamenting English royal books with heraldic designs, which is considered to have begun in the reign of Edward IV., has continued without break. The same fashion in books belonging to private owners was first followed during the later Tudor period, and then numbers were made, and have been, more or less, ever since.

During the whole Tudor period several small bindings of gold ornamented with enamels were made. Some of these still exist, and they are charming little jewels. They were always provided with a ring at the top, no doubt for attaching to the girdle.

Aldus Manutius, the great Venetian printer, had several of his books charmingly bound in dark morocco with "Aldine" knot leaves and small dolphins both in blind and gold tooling; and Giunta, a Florentine printer, had his books bound in a similar way but without the dolphins. Many early Venetian bindings have recessed panels, made by the use of double boards, the upper of which is pierced, finished in true oriental fashion.

Jean Grolier, viscount d'Aguisy, treasurer of France in 1545, was a great collector of fine books, most of which were bound for himself, and bear upon them his legend, _Portio mea domine sit in terra viventium_, and also his name, Io Grolierii et Amicorum (Plate, fig. 3). Tommaso Maioli, an Italian collector of about the same time, used the same form of legend. Books bound for him are curiously marked with atoms of gold remaining in the irregularities of the leather.

Demetrio Canevari, physician to Pope Urban VIII., had his books bound in dark green or deep red morocco, and upon them is a fine cameo stamp with a design of Apollo driving a chariot with one white horse and one black horse towards a mountain on which is a silver Pegasus. The stamp was coloured, but in most cases the colour has now worn off. Round the stamp is the legend [Greek: ORTHOS KAI MAE LOXIOS].

The Italian bindings which were made for popes and cardinals are always of much interest and often of high merit, but as a rule later Italian bindings are disappointing.

Geoffrey Tory, printer and engraver to Francis I. of France, designed some fine bindings, some for himself and quite possibly some for Jean Grolier.

For Henry II. of France much highly decorative work in binding was done, richly gilded and coloured. These bindings have upon them the king's initials, the initials of his queen, Catherine de' Medici, and the emblems of crescents and bows. Henry's device was a crescent with the legend, _Donec impleat totum orbem_. Bindings of similar style were made for Diane de Poitiers, duchesse de Valentinois, with her initials and the same devices of crescents and bows. They are always fine work.

German bindings are mostly in pigskin, finely stamped in blind. Several are, however, in calf. Gilding, when it exists, is generally bad.

In England during the 17th century much fine work was done in binding, most of it in morocco, but Henry, prince of Wales, always had his books bound in calf. The Jacobean style is heraldic, with semis of small stamps and heavy corners, but James I. has left some very fine bindings in another style (Plate, fig. 4), very possibly done for him by John Gibson, who bound the royal books while James was king of Scotland only. During the reign of Charles I. Nicholas Ferrar founded his curious establishment at Little Gidding, and there his niece Mary Collet and her sisters set up a bindery. They made large scrap-books, harmonies of the Gospels and other parts of the Bible, with illustrations, and bound them magnificently in velvet stamped in gold and silver. They were taught by a binder who worked for John and Thomas Buck, printers to the university of Cambridge, and the Little Gidding stamps are often identical with Buck's.

Samuel Mearne (d. 1683) was royal binder to Charles II., and invented the cottage style of decoration, a style which has lasted till the present day; the Bible on which Edward VII. took the coronation oath was ornamented in that way. An inner rectangle is run parallel to the edges of the book, and the upper and lower lines are broken outwards into the outline of a gable roof. Mearne's work as a binder (Plate, fig. 5) is of the highest merit. Many of his books have their fore-edge painted in such a way that the work is invisible when the book is shut, and only shows when the edges are fanned out.

In France 16th- and 17th-century binding is distinguished by the work of such masters as Nicholas Eve, who bound the beautiful _Livre des Statuts et Ordonnances de l'ordre du Benvist Sainct Esprit_ for Henry III. (Plate, fig. 6); Clovis Eve, who is credited with the invention of the style known as "fanfare," a delicate tracery over the boards of a book, filled out with spirals of leafy stems; and Le Gascon, who invented the dotted work which has been used more or less ever since. Le Gascon caused his small gilding tools--curves and arabesques--to be scored across, so that when impressions were made from them a dotted line showed instead of a right line. Florimond Badier worked in a style very similar to that of Le Gascon and sometimes signed his work, which Le Gascon never did. Le Gascon had many imitators, the best and closest being Poncyn and Magnus, Dutch binders who worked at Amsterdam in the 17th century, and his style has been continuously followed to the present day.

The bindings of Padeloup le Jeune often have small tickets with his name upon them; they usually have borders of lace-like gold tooling known as "dentelle" and are often inlaid. He belonged to a family of binders, all of whom were excellent workmen, and lived in the 17th and 18th centuries.

The Deromes were another of the great French families of binders; the most celebrated was Nicholas Denis, called "Le Jeune," born in 1731. He used dentelle borders resembling those of Padeloup, but with little birds interspersed among the arabesques--"dentelles a l'oiseau."

Among the many French binders of the 18th century who used delicate inlays of coloured leathers, Jean Charles le Monnier was perhaps the most skilled. He often signed his bindings in small capitals impressed in gold somewhere about the inlaid part.

Eliot and Chapman bound the library of Robert Harley, earl of Oxford, about the middle of the 18th century. The bindings are in morocco, with broad, richly gold-tooled borders, and usually a diamond-shaped centre-piece. This is known as the Harleian style.

Thomas Hollis had his books bound in fine red morocco, ornamented with small, well-cut stamps engraved by Thomas Pingo, the medallist. These stamps comprise a cap of liberty, a figure of liberty, a figure of Britannia and several smaller ones.

Towards the end of the 18th century, when binding in England was decoratively at a low level, Roger Payne, a native of Windsor, came to London and set up as a bookbinder. He was a splendid workman, and introduced richly gold-tooled corner-pieces, ornamental "doublures" or inside linings, and also invented the graining of morocco, graining it, however, in one direction only, known as the "straight grain." It is said that Payne cut his own binding tools of iron; they certainly are exquisitely made, and in many of his bindings he has put a written description of loving work he has done upon them. Payne was, unfortunately, a drunkard, but he has in spite of this rendered an immortal service to the art of bookbinding in England.

In 1785 John Edwards of Halifax patented a method of making vellum transparent, and using it as a covering over delicate paintings. He also painted pictures on the fore-edges of many of his books in the same manner as that followed by Samuel Mearne in the 17th century, so that they did not show until the book was opened. John Whitaker used calf for his bindings, but ornamented the calf in a curious way with strong acids and with prints from engraved metal plates. Both Edwards and Whitaker liked classical borders and ornaments, and their bindings are in consequence often known as "Etruscan."

The main styles used in England at the beginning of the 19th century were nothing more than distant imitations of Roger Payne. Kalthoeber, Staggemeier, Walther and Hering were all disciples of this master, but Charles Lewis worked on original lines. He developed arabesques and paid particular attention to richly gold-tooled doublures. He also used gold end papers, and the bands at the back of his bindings are often double and always broad, flat and gold-tooled. His workmanship is excellent; he worked largely for Thomas Grenville and other great collectors.

French binding of the 19th century is remarkable for wonderful technical excellence in every part. Among the most skilled of these admirable workmen and artists may be particularly mentioned Thouvenin, Bauzonnet, Lortic, Niedree, Cape and Duru, and fortunately they generally sign their work in small gold lettering either on the back of their bindings or inside along the lower edge.

Modern methods.

Recent years have witnessed a marked revival of interest in the art of bookbinding, but modern binders have two serious difficulties to contend with. One of these is the prevalence of bad paper, overladen with clay and with wood pulp, and also the fact that many of the modern leathers are badly prepared and dangerously treated with sulphuric acid, which in time inevitably rots the fibre. The Society of Arts has appointed committees of experts to report upon both of these evils, and the published accounts of both inquiries are of much value, and it is to be hoped that the results may be beneficial. Concurrently with the revival of the artistic side of the subject, there has also arisen a remarkable development in the technical processes, owing to the invention of ingenious and delicate machinery which is capable of executing the work which had hitherto been always laboriously done by hand. The processes of folding the printed sheets, and sewing them together on bands, rounding the backs when sewn, and of making the outer cases, covering them with cloth or leather and stamping designs upon them, can now all be efficiently executed by means of machines. The saving in time and labour thus effected is very great, although it must be said that the old methods of carrying out the process of sewing and rounding the backs of books by hand labour were safer and stronger, as well as being much less liable to bruise and injure the paper. These processes unfortunately are not only slow but also necessitate highly skilled labour. Already the larger trade binders utilize machines extensively and advantageously, but exclusively high-class trade binders do not as yet materially depart from the older methods. Private binders have naturally no reason to use machines at all. Fine and delicate examples of large metal blocks or dies have been very successfully used for the decoration of covers measuring about 11-1/2 by 8 in.

Besides the large trade binders working mainly by the help of machinery, and producing a great quantity of bound work which is not expected to last long, there also exists in London, Paris, New York and other large cities, a small class of art binders who work throughout upon the principles which have been continuously in use for first-class work ever since about the 5th century. The initial impetus to this school can be traced to William Morris, who himself made some beautiful designs for bookbindings, to be executed both in gold and in blind. Although he probably did not fully appreciate either the peculiar limitations or the possibilities of the art of gold-tooling on leather, nevertheless his genius guided him truly as to the spirit in which the designs should be conceived. The revived art soon reached its first stage of development under the guidance of Mr T.J. Cobden-Sanderson, who may fairly be considered as the founder of the modern school of design for gold-tooling on book-covers, the pre-eminence and individuality of his work in this direction being proved by the number of his imitators. Among the most successful of his pupils is Mr Douglas Cockerell, whose work (Plate, fig. 7) is distinguished by a marked originality of treatment, while it shows a scholarly appreciation of ancient methods. Mr Alfred de Sauty has succeeded in developing a new and admirable style in inlaid leathers, combined with delicate pointille work. A number of women artists, both in England and in America, have already discovered in bookbinding a fitting and lucrative field for their energies. One, Miss Sarah Prideaux, is not only skilled and original in her own work, but she has also given us much valuable literature on her subject. Miss E.M. MacColl may claim to be the inventor of the small curved gold line produced by means of a tiny wheel, for though the possibility of producing such a line in blind was known for a long time, it was rarely used. The graceful curves and lines found on Miss MacColl's work have been designed for her by her brother, Mr D.S. MacColl (Plate, fig. 8). Miss Joanna Birkenruth recalls the highly decorative medieval binding by her use of jewels cut _en cabochon_, but set in morocco instead of gold or silver, and there are many others who are working well and earnestly at art binding with delicate skill and taste. Outside the inner circle of professional bookbinders there has grown up a new profession, that of the designer for pictorial book-covers, especially those intended to be shown in colour on cloth or paper. Among notable designers may be mentioned Lewis F. Day, A.A. Turbayne, Walter Crane and Charles Ricketts.

_Machine-binding._--The principal types of machine for commercial
binding are described below. They are almost all due to American or
German ingenuity. It may be noted that, while books sewn by hand on
bands have the loose ends of the bands actually drawn through the
boards and strongly fastened to them through their substance, no
machines for covering sewn books will do this so effectively. All they
will do as a rule is to paste down to the inner surfaces of the boards
the loose ends of the tapes on which the sewing is done. So that,
although it may last a long time if not much used, a "cased" book is
likely to slip out of its cover as soon as the paste fixing it
perishes. Modern bookbinding machines of all kinds are usually driven
by power, and in consequence of the necessary setting of most of them
accurately to some particular size of book, they are not suitable for
binding books of different sizes; the full advantage of them can only
be taken where there is a large edition of one book.

Sewing.

Book-sewing machines (fig. 9) are of two kinds one sews the books on
bands, either flat or round, and the other supplies the place of bands
by a kind of chain stitch. The band-working machines bring the return
thread back by pulling it through the upper and lower edges of the
back of each section, thereby to some extent weakening each section,
but at the same time this weakening can be to some extent neutralized
by careful head-banding. The other system, where the band is replaced
by a chain stitch, brings back the return thread inside each section;
the objection to this is that there is a flattening out of the back of
the book, which becomes a difficulty when the subsequent operation of
covering the book begins. The sections are sewn continuously in a long
line, and are afterwards cut apart. The threads catch into hooked
needles and are drawn through holes made by piercers set to a certain
distance; a shuttle like that used in an ordinary sewing-machine sews
the inner thread backwards and forwards. Each section is placed upon a
sort of metal saddle by the hand of the operator, one after the other,
the machine working continuously unless the action is cut off or
controlled by a foot-lever or pedal. This machine is much quieter to
work, and although the inner threads are too bulky to be quite
satisfactory, this is not a serious matter like the cutting of the
upper and lower edges of the back already described, and, moreover, is
probably capable of being either improved away or so minimized that it
will become of small importance.

The Martini book-sewing machine, which sews books on tape without
cutting up head or tail--a most important improvement--and also forms
complete Kettle stitches, will sew books of any size up to 18 in. The
needles are straight, and the necessary adjustments for various sizes
of books are very simple.

Rounding and backing.

The machine for rounding and backing sewn books requires a rather
elaborate and very careful setting of several parts to the exact
requirement of each size to be worked. The sewn book with the back
glued is caught in a clip and forced between two tight rollers, the
result being that the hitherto flat back is automatically turned into
a rounded shape (figs. 10 and 11). The book is then drawn forward, by
a continuance of the onward movement, until it reaches the rounding
plate, which is a block of steel with a polished groove a little
larger than the size required. This rounding plate moves within a
small arc by means of heavy counter-weights, and on the back of the
book being strongly pressed against it, it receives the permanent form
of the groove cut in it, at the same time a strong grip on each side
of the book causes the ledge to rise up along each outer edge of the
back. This ledge it is which enables the boards to be subsequently
fixed in such a way as to hinge on a line outside the actual and
natural boundary of the book. Before the discovery of the possibility
of producing this ledge, the boards of books hinged upon a line
coincident with the inner edges of the back, the result of which was
that when the book was opened there was an invariable tendency to open
and pull away the few outer sections of the paper or vellum itself--a
destructive and disagreeable peculiarity. These machines are capable,
after they are properly set, of rounding and backing about 750 volumes
of the same size within an hour.

The machine for making cases, or "case" covers (fig. 12), for books is
large and complicated, but beautifully effective. It contains
altogether over fifty springs, some of which are very small, like
watch fittings, while others are large and powerful. The machine is
fed with pieces of cardboard cut exactly to the sizes of the required
boards, other pieces cut to the size of the back, and a long roll of
the cloth with which the cases are to be covered, and when set working
the roll of cloth is gradually unwound and glued by contact with a
roller, which is drawn along until it reaches a point where the two
boards are ingeniously dropped upon it one by one, then on again to
where a long arm swings backwards and forwards, at each movement
picking up a piece of cardboard for the back and placing it gently
exactly upon the glued bed left for it between the two boards already
fixed. Next, as the cloth passes along, it comes under the sharp
influence of two rectangular gouges which cut out the corners, the
remaining side pieces being gradually but irresistibly turned up by
hollow raisers and flattened down by small rollers, a very delicate
piece of machinery finishing the corners in a masterly way. Then,
lastly, an arrangement of raisers and rollers acting at right angles
to the last mentioned turn over and press out the remaining pieces of
cloth. Of course each piece of cloth is cut across at the proper point
before the turning up begins. This machine is capable of producing
1200 cases in an hour of any size that the machine will take.

A. Cases.
B. Side of Case Hopper.
C. Paste box.
D. Head Clamp Rod.
E. Head Clamp.

1. 1st position.
2. 2nd position.
3. 3rd position and finished book. When in 2nd position the book
drops to level of paste box.]

The Smyth casing-in machine (fig. 13) pastes the sides of a book as
required and then attaches the cover over all. Cleverly arranged
rollers catch the book, and by a carefully regulated pressure fix the
cover in the proper position. There is a "jointing-in" device which at
a critical moment forces the joints in the cover into the joints in
the book. It will work books from 4 to 22 in. in length and from 1/4
to 3 in. in thickness, and can cover from 10 to 15 books per minute.

Here may also be mentioned the Sheridan wrappering machine, which
covers magazines and pamphlets ranging from 5 to 12 in. in length at
the rate of 40 a minute.

Wiring.

Wiring is a cheap method of keeping together thin parts of periodicals
or tracts. The machine that executes it is simple in construction and
use. It drives a short wire pin, bent at right angles at each end,
through the folds of the sections of a book or through the entire
thickness, sideways, after the manner of stabbing. The projecting
ends, when through the substance of the paper, are bent over and
flattened so as to grip firmly. The metal used for these pins was at
first very liable to rust, and consequently did much damage to the
paper near it, but this defect has now been largely remedied. At the
same time the principle of using hard metal wire instead of flexible
hempen thread is essentially vicious, and should only be used as a
temporary expedient for publications of little value.

Blocking.

The machines (fig. 14) now used for blocking designs upon book-covers
are practically the same as have been employed for many years. Several
small improvements have been introduced as to better inking of the
rollers for colour work, and better heating of the blocks used for
gold work. A blocking press is now, in consequence of the size of many
of the blocks, a large and cumbersome machine. The block itself is
fixed firmly in a strong metal bed, and a movable table in front of it
is fitted with gauges which keep the cover exactly in its right place.
For gold work the block is kept at the proper temperature by means of
gas jets, and the cover being properly overlaid with gold leaf is
passed, on its table, directly under the block and then pressed
steadily upwards against it, lowered, drawn out, and the superfluous
gold rubbed off. The same process is followed in the case of colour
blocks, only now the block need not be heated, but is inked by means
of a roller for each impression. A separate printing is necessary for
each colour. These printings always require great care on the part of
the operator, who has to watch the working of each pull very
carefully, and if any readjustment is wanted, to make it at once, so
that it is difficult to estimate at what rate they can be made. In the
matter of gold blocking there must be great care exercised in the
matter of the heat of the block, for if it is too hot the gold will
adhere where it is not wanted, and if too cool it will not adhere
where it is required. Great nicety is also necessary as to the exact
pressure required as well as the precise number of moments during
which the block should be in contact with the gold, which is fastened
to the cloth or leather by means of the solidification by heat of egg
albumen. Blocking presses are mainly of German make, but Scottish and
English presses are also largely used.

AUTHORITIES.--See the _Anglo-Saxon Review_ (1899-1901); C.J.
Davenport, _Royal English Bookbindings_ (1896), _Cantor Lectures on
Bookbinding_ (1898), _English Embroidered Bookbindings_ (1899), _Life
of Thomas Berthelet_ (1901), _Life of Samuel Mearne_ (1906); W.Y.
Fletcher, _English Bookbindings in the British Museum_ (1895),
_Foreign Bookbindings in the British Museum_ (1896); L. Gruel, _Manuel
de l'amateur de relieures_ (1887); H.P. Horne, _The Binding of Books_
(1894); S.T. Prideaux, _Historical Sketch of Bookbinding_ (1893); E.
Thoinan, _Les Relieurs francais_ (1893); O. Uzanne, _La Relieure
moderne_ (1887); H.B. Wheatley, _Remarkable Bindings in the British
Museum_ (1889); J.W. Zaehnsdorf, _The Art of Bookbinding_ (1880).
(C. D.)

BOOKCASE, an article of furniture, forming a shelved receptacle, usually perpendicular or horizontal, for the storage of books. When books, being written by hand, were excessively scarce, they were kept in small coffers which the great carried about with them on their journeys. As manuscript volumes accumulated in the religious houses or in regal palaces, they were stored upon shelves or in cupboards, and it is from these cupboards that the bookcase of to-day directly descends. At a somewhat later date the doors were, for convenience' sake, discarded, and the evolution of the bookcase made one step forward. Even then, however, the volumes were not arranged in the modern fashion. They were either placed in piles upon their sides, or if upright, were ranged with their backs to the wall and their edges outwards. The band of leather, vellum or parchment which closed the book was often used for the inscription of the title, which was thus on the fore-edge instead of on the back. It was not until the invention of printing had greatly cheapened books that it became the practice to write the title on the back and place the edges inwards. Early bookcases were usually of oak, which is still deemed to be the most appropriate wood for a stately library. The oldest bookcases in England are those in the Bodleian library at Oxford, which were placed in position in the last year or two of the 16th century; in that library are the earliest extant examples of shelved galleries over the flat wall-cases. Long ranges of book-shelves are necessarily somewhat severe in appearance, and many attempts have been made by means of carved cornices and pilasters to give them a more _riant_ appearance--attempts which were never so successful as in the hands of the great English cabinet-makers of the second half of the 18th century.

Both Chippendale and Sheraton made or designed great numbers of bookcases, mostly glazed with little lozenges encased in fret-work frames often of great charm and elegance. The alluring grace of some of Sheraton's satinwood bookcases has very rarely indeed been equalled. The French cabinet-makers of the same period were also highly successful with small ornamental cases. Mahogany, rosewood, satinwood and even choicer exotic timbers were used; they were often inlaid with marqueterie and mounted with chased and gilded bronze. Dwarf bookcases were frequently finished with a slab of choice marble at the top. In the great public libraries of the 20th century the bookcases are often of iron, as in the British Museum where the shelves are covered with cowhide, of steel, as in the library of Congress at Washington, or of slate, as in the Fitzwilliam library at Cambridge. There are three systems of arranging bookcases--flat against the wall; in "stacks" or ranges parallel to each other with merely enough space between to allow of the passage of a librarian; or in bays or alcoves where cases jut out into the room at right angles to the wall-cases. The stack system is suitable only for public libraries where economy of space is essential; the bay system is not only handsome but utilizes the space to great advantage. The library of the city of London at the Guildhall is a peculiarly effective example of the bay arrangement.

The whole question of the construction and arrangement of bookcases
was learnedly discussed in the light of experience by W.E. Gladstone
in the Nineteenth Century for March 1890. (J. P.-B.)

BOOK-COLLECTING, the bringing together of books which in their contents, their form or the history of the individual copy possess some element of permanent interest, and either actually or prospectively are rare, in the sense of being difficult to procure. This qualification of rarity, which figures much too largely in the popular view of book-collecting, is entirely subordinate to that of interest, for the rarity of a book devoid of interest is a matter of no concern. On the other hand so long as a book (or anything else) is and appears likely to continue to be easily procurable at any moment, no one has any reason for collecting it. The anticipation that it will always be easily procurable is often unfounded; but so long as the anticipation exists it restrains collecting, with the result that Horn-books are much rarer than First Folio Shakespeares. It has even been laid down that the ultimate rarity of books varies in the inverse ratio of the number of copies originally printed, and though the generalization is a little sweeping, it is not far from the truth. To triumph over small difficulties being the chief element in games of skill, the different varieties of book-collecting, which offer almost as many varieties of grades of difficulty, make excellent hobbies. But in its essence the pastime of a book-collector is identical with the official work of the curator of a museum, and thus also with one branch of the duties of the librarian of any library of respectable age. In its inception every library is a literary workshop, with more or less of a garden or recreation ground attached according as its managers are influenced by the humanities or by a narrow conception of utility. As the library grows, the books and editions which have been the tools of one generation pass out of use; and it becomes largely a depository or storehouse of a stock much of which is dead. But from out of this seemingly dead stock preserved at haphazard, critics and antiquaries gradually pick out books which they find to be still alive. Of some of these the interest cannot be reproduced in its entirety by any mere reprint, and it is this salvage which forms the literary museum. Book-collectors are privileged to leap at once to this stage in their relations with books, using the dealers' shops and catalogues as depositories from which to pick the books which will best fit with the aim or central idea of their collection. For in the modern private collection, as in the modern museum, the need for a central idea must be fully recognized. Neither the collector nor the curator can be content to keep a mere curiosity-shop. It is the collector's business to illustrate his central idea by his choice of examples, by the care with which he describes them and the skill with which they are arranged. In all these matters many amateurs rival, if they do not outstrip, the professional curators and librarians, and not seldom their collections are made with a view to their ultimate transference to public ownership. In any case it is by the zeal of collectors that books which otherwise would have perished from neglect are discovered, cared for and preserved, and those who achieve these results certainly deserve well of the community.

History.

Whenever a high degree of civilization has been attained book-lovers have multiplied, and to the student with his modest desire to read his favourite author in a well-written or well-printed copy there has been added a class of owners suspected of caring more for the externals of books than for the enjoyment to be obtained by reading them. But although adumbrations of it existed under the Roman empire and towards the end of the middle ages, book-collecting, as it is now understood, is essentially of modern growth. A glance through what must be regarded as the medieval text-book on the love of books, the _Philobiblon_, attributed to Richard de Bury (written in 1345), shows that it deals almost exclusively with the delights of literature, and Sebastian Brant's attack on the book-fool, written a century and a half later, demonstrates nothing more than that the possession of books is a poor substitute for learning. This is so obviously true that before book-collecting in the modern sense can begin it is essential that there should be no lack of books to read, just as until cups and saucers became plentiful there was no room for the collector of old china. Even when the invention of printing had reduced the cost of books by some 80%, book-collectors did not immediately appear. There is a natural temptation to imagine that the early book-owners, whose libraries have enriched modern collectors with some of their best-known treasures, must necessarily have been collectors themselves. This is far from being the case. Hardly a book of all that Jean Grolier (1479-1565) caused to be bound so tastefully for himself and his friends reveals any antiquarian instincts in its liberal owner, who bought partly to encourage the best printers of his day, partly to provide his friends with the most recent fruits of Renaissance scholarship. In England Archbishop Cranmer, Lords Arundel and Lumley, and Henry, prince of Wales (1594-1612), in France the famous historian Jacques Auguste de Thou (1553-1617), brought together the best books of their day in all departments of learned literature, put them into handsome leather jackets, and enriched them with their coats of arms, heraldic badges or other marks of possession. But they brought their books together for use and study, to be read by themselves and by the scholars who frequented their houses, and no evidence has been produced that they appreciated what a collector might now call the points of a book other than its fine condition and literary or informational merits. Again, not a few other more or less famous men have been dubbed collectors on the score of a scanty shelf-full of volumes known to have been stamped with their arms. Collecting, as distinct both from the formation of working libraries and from casual ownership of this latter kind, may perhaps be said to have begun in England at the time of the antiquarian reaction produced by the book-massacres when the monasteries were dissolved by Henry VIII., and the university and college libraries and the parish service books were plundered and stript by the commissioners of Edward VI. To rescue good books from perishing is one of the main objects of book-collecting, and when Archbishop Parker and Sir Robert Cotton set to work to gather what they could of the scattered records of English statecraft and literature, and of the decorative art bestowed so lavishly on the books of public and private devotion, they were book-collectors in a sense and on a scale to which few of their modern imitators can pretend. Men of more slender purses, and armed with none of Archbishop Parker's special powers, worked according to their ability on similar lines. Humphrey Dyson, an Elizabethan notary, who collected contemporary proclamations and books from the early English presses, and George Thomason (d. 1666), the bookseller who bought, stored and catalogued all the pamphlet literature of the Civil War, were mindful of the future historians of the days in which they lived. By the end of the 17th century book-collecting was in full swing all over Europe, and much of its apparatus had come into existence. In 1676 book auctions were introduced into England from Holland, and soon we can trace in priced catalogues the beginning of a taste for Caxtons, and the books prized by collectors slowly fought their way up from amid the heavy volumes of theology by which they were at first overwhelmed.

While book-collecting thus came into existence it was rather as an added grace in the formation of a fine library than as a separate pursuit. Almost all the large book-buyers of the 16th, 17th and 18th centuries bought with a public object, or were rewarded for their zeal by their treasures being thought worthy of a public resting-place. Sir Thomas Smith (d. 1577) bequeathed his books to Queens' College, Cambridge; Archbishop Parker's were left under severe restrictions to Corpus Christi College in the same university; Sir Thomas Bodley refounded during his lifetime the university library at Oxford, to which also Laud gave liberally and Selden bequeathed his books. The library of Archbishop Williams went to St John's College, Cambridge; that of Archbishop Usher was bought for Trinity College, Dublin. The mathematical and scientific books of Thomas Howard, earl of Norfolk (d. 1646), were given by his grandson to the Royal Society; the heraldic collections of Ralph Sheldon (d. 1684) to Heralds' College; the library in which Pepys took so much pleasure to Magdalene College, Cambridge. Bishop Moore's books, including a little volume of Caxton quartos, almost all unique, were bought by George I. and presented to the university library at Cambridge. Archbishop Marsh, who had previously bought Stillingfleet's printed books (his manuscripts went to Oxford), founded a library at Dublin. The immense accumulations of Thomas Rawlinson (d. 1725) provided materials for a series of auctions, and Harley's printed books were sold to Osbourne the bookseller. But the trend was all towards public ownership. While Richard Rawlinson (d. 1755) allowed his brother's books to be sold, the best of his own were bequeathed to Oxford, and the Harleian MSS. were offered to the nation at a sum far below their value. A similar offer of the great collections formed by Sir Hans Sloane, including some 50,000 printed books, together with the need for taking better care of what remained of the Cotton manuscripts, vested in trustees for public use in 1702 and partially destroyed by fire in 1731, led to the foundation of the British Museum in 1753, and this on its opening in 1757 was almost immediately enriched by George II.'s gift of the old royal library, formed by the kings and queens of England from Henry VII. to Charles II., and by Henry, prince of Wales, son of James I., who had bought the books belonging to Archbishop Cranmer and Lords Arundel and Lumley. A few notable book-buyers could not afford to bequeath their treasures to libraries, e.g. Richard Smith, the secondary of the Poultry Compter (d. 1675), at whose book-sale (1682) a dozen Caxtons sold for from 2 S. to 18 S. apiece, Dr Francis Bernard (d. 1698), Narcissus Luttrell(d. 1732) and Dr Richard Mead (d. 1754). At the opposite end of the scale, in the earls of Sunderland (d. 1722) and Pembroke (d. 1733), we have early examples of the attempts, seldom successful, of book-loving peers to make their libraries into permanent heirlooms. But as has been said, the drift up to 1760 was all towards public ownership, and the libraries were for the most part general in character, though the interest in typographical antiquities was already well marked.