heir original boards are
delightful to handle. A fine copy should be a clean copy free from
spots. When a book is spotted it is called 'foxed,' and these 'foxey'
books are for the most part books printed in the 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 b