This is interesting as showing the care and sense of proportion which may be expended upon the formation of lettering. It also gives a definite standard. The division of eighths and fourths in the Roman capital is noteworthy, too, in connection with the eight-heads standard of proportion for the human body; and the square basis reminds one of Vitruvius, and demonstration of the inclosure of the human figure with limbs in extension by the square and the circle. Those interested in the history of the form of lettering cannot do better than consult Mr. Strange's book on "Alphabets" in this series. It might be possible to construct an actual theory of the geometric relation of figure design, ornamental forms, and the forms of lettering, text, or type upon them, but we are more concerned with the free artistic invention for the absence of which no geometric rules can compensate. The invention, the design, comes first in order, the rules and principles are discovered afterwards, to confirm and establish their truth--would that they did not also sometimes crystallize their vitality! I have spoken of the treatment of headings and initials at the opening of a chapter. In deciding upon such an arrangement the designer is more or less committed to carrying it out throughout the book, and would do well to make his ornamental spaces, and the character, treatment, and size of his initials agree in the corresponding places. This would still leave plenty of room for variety of invention in the details. The next variety of shape in which he might indulge would be the half-page, generally an attractive proportion for a figure design, and if repeated on the opposite page or column, the effect of a continuous frieze can be given, which is very useful where a procession of figures is concerned, and the slight break made by the centre margin is not objectionable. The same plan may be adopted when it is desired to carry a full-page design across, or meet it by a corresponding design opposite. [Sidenote: OF HEAD AND TAIL-PIECES.] Then we come to the space at the end of the chapter. For my part, I can never resist the opportunity for a tailpiece if it is to be a fully illustrated work, though some would let it severely alone, or be glad of the blank space to rest a bit. I think this lets one down at the end of the chapter too suddenly. The blank, the silence, seems too dead; one would be glad of some lingering echo, some recurring thought suggested by the text; and here is the designer's opportunity. It is a tight place, like the person who is expected to say the exactly fit thing at the right moment. Neither too much, or too little. A quick wit and a light hand will serve the artist in good stead here. [Sidenote: OF TAIL-PIECES.]