end their pages through two presses, one the
typographic press, and the other the roller press for copper-plate
engravings. The results give us perhaps the best example that we have of
things beautiful in themselves but unlovely in combination. As in the
use of other ornamental features, there are no bounds to the use of
illustration except that of fitness.

We have spoken of margins from the point of view of the page; from that
of the closed book they appear as edges, and here they present several
problems in the design of the book beautiful. If the book is designed
correctly from the beginning, the margins will be of just the right
width and the edges cannot be trimmed without making them too narrow.
Besides, the untrimmed edges are witnesses to the integrity of the book;
if any exception may be made, it will be in the case of the top margin,
which may be gilded both for beauty and to make easy the removal of
dust. But the top should be rather shaved than trimmed, so that the
margin may not be visibly reduced. The gilding of all the edges, or
"full gilt," is hardly appropriate to the book beautiful, though it may
be allowed in devotional books, especially those in limp binding, and
its effect may there be heightened by laying the gilt on red or some
other color. Edges may be goffered, that is, decorated with incised or
burnt lines, though the result, like tattooing, is more curious than
ornamental. The edges may even be made to receive pictures, but here
again the effect smacks of the barbaric.

We have now gone over our subject in the large. To pursue it with all
possible degrees of minuteness would require volumes. William Morris,
for instance, discusses the proper shape for the dot of the i; and even
the size of the dot and its place above the letter are matters on which
men hold warring opinions. We have not even raised the question of laid
or wove paper, nor of the intermixture of different series or sizes of
types. In short, every phase of the subject bristles with moot points,
the settlement of one of which in a given way may determine the
settlement of a score of others.

But what is the use to the public of this knowledge and enjoyment of
ours? Is it not after all a fruitless piece of self-indulgence? Surely,
if bookmaking is one of the minor arts, then the private knowledge and
enjoyment of its products is an element in the culture of the community.
But it is more than that; it is both a pledge and a stimu