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قراءة كتاب The Private Library What We Do Know, What We Don't Know, What We Ought to Know About Our Books
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The Private Library What We Do Know, What We Don't Know, What We Ought to Know About Our Books
early part of this century, when paper-makers first discovered that they could bleach their rags, and, owing to the inefficient means used to neutralise the bleach, the book carried the seeds of decay in itself, and when exposed to any damp soon became discoloured with brown stains.[3] A foxed book cannot have the fox marks removed, and such a book should be avoided. Ink marks can be removed, and a name written upon a title-page can generally be entirely obliterated without leaving any sign that it has been there. Here let me beg people who give presents of books never to write upon title-pages, but upon the fly-leaf. Many thousands of beautiful and valuable volumes are annually ruined for ever by their owners cutting the name from the title. A cut title-page is irreparable. A fine copy may be a bound copy, in which case the edges must not have been cut down, though the top edge may have been gilded, and the binding must be appropriate and not provincial in appearance. A provincial binding lacks finish, the board used is too thick or too thin, or not of good quality, and the leather not properly pared down and turned in. All such things go to spoil good books. In North's Lives of the Norths there is a passage which well describes the man of judgment in books. Dr. John North, whose life forms part of this work, is most picturesquely described in his book-loving habits. 'He courted, as a fond lover, all best editions, fairest characters, best bound and preserved. If the subject were in his favour (as the Classics), he cared not how many of them he had, even of the same edition, if he thought it among the best, rather better bound, squarer cut, neater covers, or some such qualification caught him.' And then his biographer adds, what is so true, and especially of books, 'Continual use gives men a judgment of things comparatively, and they come to fix on what is most proper and easy, which no man upon cursory view would determine.'
Large paper copies are not necessarily fine copies. When a cheap trumpery piece of book-making is printed on hand-made paper or Japanese vellum paper the result is vulgarity, just as when a common person attempts to swagger about in fine clothes. No, a book must show good binding and be appropriately apparelled, or it cannot be referred to as a fine copy. In the matter of large paper copies it is necessary to form a separate judgment in each case. One thing is certain, that the man who collects large paper books as large paper books is a vulgarian and a fool. He who collects such large paper books as mature judgment determines are appropriate, and because he sees them to have genuine points of merit over and above small paper copies, is a book lover. In a charming little volume, written by an American bibliophile, I read the following passage, confirming in part the foregoing:—
'Good editions of good books, though they may often be expensive, cannot be too highly commended. One can turn to a page in inviting letterpress so much easier than to a page of an unattractive volume.'[4]
Book Values.
It would be impossible to tell all the causes which go towards determining the value of a book and which cause it to fluctuate in price. There is but one way to arrive at a reliable knowledge of book values, and that is to begin stall-hunting as soon as you leave school or college and continue until past middle age, absorbing information from stalls, from catalogues, and from sale-rooms. The records of prices at which books have been sold in the auction rooms, and which are regularly issued, are useless in the hands of an inexperienced person. To make up your mind on Monday that you are going to begin a career of successful bargain-hunting and book-collecting is only to be defrauded on all the other five remaining days. Experience must be bought, and an eye for a good copy of a book, or for a bargain of any kind, only comes after years of practice. I admit that if a man begins collecting some particular class of books, say Angling books, he may sooner arrive at safe judgment alone; but even here he has a pretty wide field to make blunders in. When Gabriel Naudé wrote his pamphlet, Avis pour dresser une Bibliothèque, he laid down his first rule thus:—'The first means is to take the counsel and advice of such as are able to give it viva voce.' This was written more than two hundred years ago, and still no better advice could possibly be given to a book collector. By all means find a man whom you can trust, and whose knowledge is ample, and stick to him. Do not yourself bid in the auction room, or you will soon find out your mistake. Place your list of wants and your list of commissions in the hands of one good man whom you have reason to trust, and you will then get your money's worth.
I have said that it is impossible to set down all the causes which affect the prices of books, but in an old French bibliographical book, by D. Clement,[5] the subject is gone into more minutely than it has ever since been treated. First, there are causes which may be classed under the heading of Rarity. Secondly, there are causes which must be grouped under the head Condition.
According to Clement, there are two sorts of rarity in books; the one absolute, the other conditional or contingent. There are rare editions of very common books. There are books of almost common occurrence in public libraries, which are rarely seen in the market. A book or an edition of which but very few copies exist is called 'necessarily rare;' one which is only with difficulty to be met with—however many copies may be extant—he calls 'contingently rare.'
Under the first head he classes; (1) Books of which few copies were printed; (2) Books which have been suppressed; (3) Books which have been almost entirely destroyed by casual fire, or other accident; (4) Books of which a large portion of the impression has been wasted—usually for want of success when published; (5) Volumes of which the printing was never completed; (6) Copies on large paper or on vellum.
Under the second head, he enumerates; (1) Books on subjects which interest only a particular class of students; (2) Books in languages which are little known; (3) Heretical, licentious, and libellous books; (4) First editions of a classic author from MS.; (5) First productions of the printing press in a particular town; (6) The productions of the celebrated printers of the sixteenth century; (7) Books in the vernacular language of an author who printed them in a foreign country; (8) Books privately printed; (9) Works, the various parts of which have been published under different titles, in different sizes, or in various places.
Clement then analyses the degrees of rarity thus: (1) Every book, which is no longer current in the trade, and requires some pains in the search for it, is 'of infrequent occurrence;' (2) If there are but few copies in the country in which we live, and those not easily met with, it is 'rare;' (3) If the copies are so dispersed that there are but few of them, even in the neighbouring countries,