Books and Bookmen | Page 5

of types and other material. Louis left six sons. Two of these,
Matthew and Bonaventure, kept on the business, dating ex officina
Elzeviriana. In 1625 Bonaventure and Abraham (son of Matthew)
became partners. The "good dates" of Elzevirian books begin from
1626. The two Elzevirs chose excellent types, and after nine years'
endeavours turned out the beautiful 'Caesar' of 1635.
Their classical series in petit format was opened with 'Horace' and
'Ovid' in 1629. In 1641 they began their elegant piracies of French
plays and poetry with 'Le Cid.' It was worth while being pirated by the
Elzevirs, who turned you out like a gentleman, with fleurons and red
letters, and a pretty frontispiece. The modern pirate dresses you in rags,
prints you murderously, and binds you, if he binds you at all, in some
hideous example of "cloth extra," all gilt, like archaic gingerbread.
Bonaventure and Abraham both died in 1652. They did not depart
before publishing (1628), in grand format, a desirable work on fencing,
Thibault's 'Academie de l'Espee.' This Tibbald also killed by the book.
John and Daniel Elzevir came next. They brought out the 'Imitation'
(Thomae a Kempis canonici regularis ord. S. Augustini De Imitatione
Christi, libri iv.); I wish by taking thought I could add eight millimetres
to the stature of my copy. In 1655 Daniel joined a cousin, Louis, in
Amsterdam, and John stayed in Leyden. John died in 1661; his widow

struggled on, but her son Abraham (1681) let all fall into ruins.
Abraham died 1712. The Elzevirs of Amsterdam lasted till 1680, when
Daniel died, and the business was wound up. The type, by Christopher
Van Dyck, was sold in 1681, by Daniel's widow. Sic transit gloria.
After he has learned all these matters the amateur has still a great deal
to acquire. He may now know a real Elzevir from a book which is not
an Elzevir at all. But there are enormous differences of value, rarity,
and excellence among the productions of the Elzevirian press. The
bookstalls teem with small, "cropped," dingy, dirty, battered Elzevirian
editions of the classics, NOT "of the good date." On these it is not
worth while to expend a couple of shillings, especially as Elzevirian
type is too small to be read with comfort by most modern eyes. No, let
the collector save his money; avoid littering his shelves with what he
will soon find to be rubbish, and let him wait the chance of acquiring a
really beautiful and rare Elzevir.
Meantime, and before we come to describe Elzevirs of the first flight,
let it be remembered that the "taller" the copy, the less harmed and
nipped by the binder's shears, the better. "Men scarcely know how
beautiful fire is," says Shelley; and we may say that most men hardly
know how beautiful an Elzevir was in its uncut and original form. The
Elzevirs we have may be "dear," but they are certainly "dumpy
twelves." Their fair proportions have been docked by the binder. At the
Beckford sale there was a pearl of a book, a 'Marot;' not an Elzevir,
indeed, but a book published by Wetstein, a follower of the Elzevirs.
This exquisite pair of volumes, bound in blue morocco, was absolutely
unimpaired, and was a sight to bring happy tears into the eyes of the
amateur of Elzevirs. There was a gracious svelte elegance about these
tomes, an appealing and exquisite delicacy of proportion, that linger
like sweet music in the memory. I have a copy of the Wetstein 'Marot'
myself, not a bad copy, though murderously bound in that ecclesiastical
sort of brown calf antique, which goes well with hymn books, and
reminds one of cakes of chocolate. But my copy is only some 128
millimetres in height, whereas the uncut Beckford copy (it had
belonged to the great Pixerecourt) was at least 130 millimetres high.
Beside the uncut example mine looks like Cinderella's plain sister
beside the beauty of the family.
Now the moral is that only tall Elzevirs are beautiful, only tall Elzevirs

preserve their ancient proportions, only tall Elzevirs are worth
collecting. Dr. Lemuel Gulliver remarks that the King of Lilliput was
taller than any of his court by almost the breadth of a nail, and that his
altitude filled the minds of all with awe. Well, the Philistine may think
a few millimetres, more or less, in the height of an Elzevir are of little
importance. When he comes to sell, he will discover the difference. An
uncut, or almost uncut, copy of a good Elzevir may be worth fifty or
sixty pounds or more; an ordinary copy may bring fewer pence. The
binders usually pare down the top and bottom more than the sides. I
have a 'Rabelais' of the good date, with the red title (1663), and