Part 4

There are, fortunately, few absolutely white printing papers. VI. And finally, there is imposition. A page of type, however well set, well spaced, well inked, and printed on suitable paper, may be a complete failure unless well “imposed.” “It is no less effective than it is logical,” says Morris, “to consider two pages of the open book as one area on which to plant, as it were, two columns of print. A very considerable reduction of the inner margins, as compared with the outer and the upper and lower, has this effect; and it is perhaps the most satisfactory way of imposing the page--if only the binder were to be depended upon. Unless the folding of the sheets is perfect, the two patches of print do not range, and the closer they come together the more obtrusive is the fault; it is not so easily detected when there is a broad space of white between.” A well-imposed page, which is to show off the type properly, must have margins widest at the bottom, narrower at the outside, narrower still at the top, and narrowest of all on the inside. If type-pages are imposed in the centre of a paper page, the margins appear less at the bottom than at the top, and the combined inside margins of pages thus imposed, in an open book seem so wide that the print appears to be falling out of it! I believe that there are various _formulae_ that are intended to effect perfect imposition; but they are not infallible in their results. * * * * * To sum up, therefore, pages of type--however fine in design--must be carefully spaced, tastefully leaded, moderately indented, thoroughly inked, printed on paper suited to their design, and properly imposed.

Neglect one of these requirements, and the result is failure. But--and it is the eternal “but” of the half-hearted printer--why should one adopt a style of printing which involves much more labour and little more return? The answer is that these simple but laborious requirements have always been met in the best printing; and that all this is merely typographical truth. It would be easier, no doubt, to believe that there is something wrong about the idea. But there isn’t. Nor is there anything that is new in all this; for in principle it would be admitted by most printers. Yet what men often mean when they talk of principles is a mere theory of conduct upon which they have never acted. The theory becomes a principle only when practised.

And thus it depends on _You_ whether you will be the Seventh Champion of good typography or not. Perhaps you may find it easier to be a deserter. If so, like the dwindling company of little nigger boys in the old song, “And then there were Six!” [Illustration: _Finis_] FOOTNOTES: [2] “Dog’s-teeth,” or as Moxon called them, “pigeon-holes.” [3] Entire books have been printed without a single broken word. An example of this is Marcellin Brun’s _Manuel pratique et abrégé de la Typographie française_--the first edition printed by Didot père et fils at Paris in 1825, and the second by Vroom of Brussels in 1826. The latter is a 12mo volume of two hundred and forty pages, and is set in 8-point type, with notes in a still smaller size. [4] Day’s _Lettering in Ornament_, London, 1902, p. 20. * * * * * Transcriber’s Note: Footnotes have been moved to the end of each chapter and relabeled consecutively through the document.