ishing, and a
patch--again not quite matching the original, for it is next to
impossible to do this--has been inserted on the under cover. The whole
volume shines unnaturally, and has rather a piebald appearance. In short,
it reminds one of Bardolph's face--'all bubukles and whelks and knobs.'
But perchance you possess another copy in precisely the same condition
inside and out, and this you have decided must be rebound. It goes to
your binder, always with your very definite instructions, and in due
course returns, modestly attired in morocco of, let us say, a dark
sage-green hue. On each side there is a plain double panel, 'blind'
tooled; the back is simply lettered
BLAIZE
DE
MONTLUC
and there are 'blind' lines at the sides of each band; but, beyond the
lettering, there is no gilding whatever on the back. The edges have not
been trimmed, much less cut, but have been left precisely as they were
originally.
Suppose now for an instant that you do _not_ possess either copy, but
that both are offered to you by a bookseller at precisely the same price.
What will be your feelings as you handle the repaired copy? It is more
than probable that you will sigh '_Poor thing_' as you open it gently for
fear of cracking the old piece pasted on to the back. But, '_What a nice
clean copy_' you will say as you take up the other; and it is improbable
that you will hesitate long in making choice.
The repairing of moderately old bindings is an excellent thing so long as
it is not carried to extremes. Obviously there are many cases where it
would be sheer foolishness to rebind the volume, slight repairs _at the
hands of an experienced binder_ being all that is necessary to enable the
book to be described as a _fine, tall, clean copy, in the original
binding, neatly repaired_. And this is where one's carefully considered
judgment and good taste must be exercised.
But advice is easier to give than to follow. If our purse be a slender
one, it is next to impossible to confine our purchases to perfect copies
in choice condition. And so it is unavoidable that a certain number of
our volumes should be in a more or less dilapidated state. A book that we
have long sought for crops up; it is a perfect copy, more or less clean
inside, but in a sad state of decay as regards the binding. On this
account it is offered to us at one-half the price which a sound copy
would fetch, perhaps even less. Of course we buy it, and many others li
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