and their excellence lies rather in the
beauty of each single letter than in the effective mass-play of the
letters in words. Kelmscott books, therefore, in spite of their
decorative beauty, are not easy reading. In this respect they differ
greatly from those of Bodoni,[4] whose types to Morris and his followers
appeared weak and ugly. Bodoni's letters play together with perfect
accord, and his pages, as a whole, possess a statuesque if not a
decorative beauty. If the reader is not satisfied with the testimony of
the page now before him, let him turn to the Bodoni Horace of 1791, in
folio, where, in addition to the noble roman text of the poems, he will
find an extremely clear and interesting italic employed in the preface,
virtually a "library hand" script. But no force has told more powerfully
for clearness and strength in types than the influence of Morris, and if
he had done only this for printing he would have earned our lasting
gratitude.

Morris held that no type smaller than long primer should ever be
employed in a book intended for continuous reading; and here again, in
size of type as distinguished from its cut, he made himself an exponent
of one of the great forward movements that have so happily characterized
the recent development of printing. Go to any public library and look at
the novels issued from 1850 to 1880. Unless your memory is clear on this
point, you will be amazed to see what small print certain publishers
inflicted with apparent impunity on their patrons during this period.
The practice extended to editions of popular authors like Dickens and
Thackeray, editions that now find no readers, or find them only among
the nearsighted.

The cheap editions of the present day, on the contrary, may be poor in
paper and perhaps in presswork, they may be printed from worn plates,
but in size and even in cut of type they are generally irreproachable.
As regards nearsighted readers, it is well known that they prefer fine
type to coarse, choosing, for instance, a Bible printed in diamond, and
finding it clear and easy to read, while they can hardly read pica at
all. This fact, in connection with the former tolerance of fine print,
raises the question whether the world was not more nearsighted two
generations ago than it is now; or does this only mean that the oculist
is abroad in the land?

It is recognized that, in books not intended for continuous reading,
small and even fine type may properly be employ