THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF BOOKS.
The manufacture of books has grown from obscure and insignificant beginnings, in a commercial point of view, to what it has become in our day—an industrial resource of great importance—and as such inviting our attention to see and examine its growth. The importance of literature, as the great agent for educating the intellect for good or for evil, is obvious to the most unreflecting; but it is not so generally thought of, in the subordinate or trade aspect, as giving employment to many hands and heads, that might not easily have found the means of subsistence elsewhere.
Let us begin the study with the brain that lays the eggs—golden or leaden, addled or prolific, as the case may be; thence to the publisher, whose province it is to bring them out; onward to the press in all its departments, that feathers the offspring for flight; pass out thence into the paper mill; and end with the poor rag-collector of delicate scraps, for "wearisome sonneteers" and well-woven and worn reviews. When you have ranked your items, and summed them, the total will be found something few imagine. Then we may search a little closer; and, as we pass through the busy department, it may strike us that this peculiar work requires a peculiar class, that might not have been by constitution of mind or body so well fitted for other employments as they are just suited to this. First the author: if we praise his head, he will not be offended if we say little of his hand; indeed, his handwriting is not always of the best. The publisher might [{105}] succeed in cheese and pickles; but for the publishing trade a corresponding intelligence is required, he must be a man of tact and discernment in intellectual tastes and demands; then compositors, readers, et hoc genus omne, should be men of mind; and the neat and dexterous female can find work for her hands to do,—type-setting, stitching, etc. And thus, while they are ministering to the spread of civilization, civilization repays them by finding a place for them, where they may gain support and comfort in this working world.
Books, like the air which surrounds us, are everywhere, from the palace to the humblest cottage; wherever civilization exists, and people assemble, books are to be seen. But, though all know what books are, all do not know their origin and development, and by what process they have arrived at their present perfection. We therefore venture to present a sketch of their beginning and advancement, and the means by which they have become such a powerful agency to forward thought and accumulate stores of knowledge ever increasing.
Without affectation of any erudite speculative knowledge respecting the origin and progress of language from the first articulate sounds of the human voice to words, symbolic signs, hieroglyphic characters, letters, alphabets, inscriptions, writings, and diversities of tongues, we shall in business-like manner commence with the elementary raw materials of writing and book-making in the order of their use. Stone, wood, metal, in which letters were cut with a Sharp instrument, were the earliest materials. The art of forming letters on lead was known when the Book of Job was written, as appears from the memorable sentence "Oh, that my words were now written that they were printed in a book, that they were graven with a pen and lead in the rocks for ever!" Sheets of lead were used to grave upon; and inscriptions cut in rocks or smooth stones in Arabia, where Lot is supposed to have lived, have been discovered. But even more primitive materials were the barks and leaves [Footnote 23] of trees prepared for the purpose. Shepherds, it is said, wrote their simple songs by means of an awl, or some similar instrument, on straps of leather twisted round their crooks. Even in the days of Mahomet, shoulder-blades of mutton, according to Gibbon's account, were used by the disciples of Mahomet for recording his supposed inspirations. The introduction of papyrus from Egypt into Greece produced great results, in increasing the diffusion of writings, and making books known by many for the first time. Previously, the Greeks had used the materials which we have enumerated. Vellum was brought into use about two centuries later; but not commonly, on account of its brittleness. Its introduction is attributable to a curious incident, remarkably illustrative of the fact that the protectionist system was acted upon at a remote age, when political economy was not understood, and the good effects of free trade were unappreciated. Ptolemy Philadelphus (B.C. 246, to whom the Septuagint version of the Hebrew Testament is due) had prohibited the exportation of papyrus from Egypt, to prevent Eumenes, king of Pergnmos, from obtaining that material, in hopes of preventing him from multiplying MSS.; for Eumenes like Ptolemy, was a patron of learning, and formed libraries. This unworthy jealousy on the part of Ptolemy was deservedly defeated by Eumenes, who ascertained that parchment would be a good substitute for papyrus. This far less abundant material was, however, used before; but Eumenes so improved the process of its preparation, that he may be almost termed the inventor of parchment. Vellum—the prepared skin of a calf—probably was brought into use at the same time; the deep yellow which both materials had was subsequently removed by some process [{106}] adopted at Rome, which made it white. The introduction of parchment led to the present form of books and it became the general material for writing upon not long afterward, though vellum was employed in all state deeds until the eighth century.
[Footnote 23: The terms library and folio are derived from liber, the inner bark; and folium, a leaf.]
Cotton paper was introduced into Europe from China about the ninth century, and superseded parchment. Documents in cotton, of that period, including diplomas of Italian princes, have been preserved in foreign museums.
The first manufactory of cotton paper was established in Spain in the twelfth century, also almost contemporaneously in France and Germany; but, its durability being questioned, all state and official documents for preservation were written, or at least engrossed, on parchment or vellum. Paper made from linen rags is supposed to have originated in Spain, and to have been introduced into England in the fourteenth century. It has been considered a pre-eminently good material, with which none of the various substances used from the earliest times to the present can victoriously compete.
Dr. Fuller, a noted and quaint writer of the seventeenth century, affected to detect national characteristics from the qualities of the paper produced in the respective countries; e.g., Venetian paper he compared to a courtier of Venice—elegant in style, light, and delicate. French paper corresponds with the light-heartedness and delicacy of the Frenchman. Dutch paper, thick and coarse, sucking up ink like a sponge, is in this respect, he says, a perfect image of the Dutch race, which tries to absorb everything it touches. Durability distinguished English paper, a quality essentially English.
In 1749 the Irish Parliment granted a sum of money to a Mr. Jay, for having introduced the first paper factory into Ireland, which probably had the distinction of anticipating England in this respect. Be this as it may, the first eminent establishment of the kind was not in operation in England until 1770, when a paper-mill was erected at Maidstone, by John Whatman, who had acquired much knowledge in the art by working at Continental factories.
In the British Museum is a book, dated 1772, which contains more than sixty specimens of paper, made of different substances. The paper called foolscap, so common in our use, derives its appellation from the historical circumstances following: When Charles I. of England found difficulties in raising revenue, he granted monopolies, among which was one for making paper, the water-mark of which was the royal arms. When Cromwell succeeded to power, he substituted, with cruel mockery, a fool's cap and bells for the royal arms. Though this mark was removed at the Restoration, all paper of the size of the "Parliamentary Journal" still bears the name of foolscap.
When books first appeared is quite uncertain; for, though the Books of Moses and the Book of Job are the most ancient of existing books, it seems from a reference Moses has made to them that there were earlier ones. Among profane writers Homer is the most ancient; he lived at the period when King Solomon reigned so gloriously. Four hundred years afterward the scattered leaves of Homer were collected and reduced to the order in which we have them; and two hundred years still later they were revised and accented, so as to have become perfect models of the purest Greek—the noblest language in the world. And, Greek words being so remarkably expressive of the meaning of the things or ideas which they are used to signify, they are now used in arts and sciences as descriptive of the subjects or things referred to; and very often in a ludicrously pedantic manner, especially among inventors of patent medicines and mechanical instruments. But it is not within the range of our subjects, or knowledge [{107}] even, to touch upon languages and literature, authorship and authors, and the gradual development and progress of literary composition, but simply the subject of books, as before intimated, as they have been presented to us, in their material development from age to age.
In a number of the Cornhill Magazine there has appeared an article, "Publishers before the Art of Printing," which presents a very interesting account of bookmaking in Italy during the Augustan age. The brothers Sosii, celebrated by Horace, issued vast supplies of manuscript books; fashionable literature was eagerly bought from Roman booksellers; and, to supply the demand for them, slaves were educated in great numbers to read aloud to indolent ladies and gentlemen as they reclined on couches. The copying of MSS. was done principally by slave scriveners, of whom a great staff was maintained, and, by their penmanship, books and newspapers could be multiplied quickly. From the dictation of one reader to several writers a large edition, comparatively with the number of the reading public, could be soon produced; in some private families readers and transcribers were employed in this way. The demand for school-books was also great. As slave labor was very cheap, bookmaking was then correspondingly inexpensive, yet authors of high reputation were well paid by publishers. They received much larger sums than were given long after the invention of printing. Martial received for his epigrams a vast remuneration—Milton, for his Paradise Lost, only 24.
The number of what may be called books published by the fathers of the church in the first centuries of the Christian era was great. Origen wrote 6,000; many of these were more properly tracts; but his polyglot version of the Bible (most of which has perished), and his great work against Celsus, were laborious works indeed. Of the writings of the fathers generally (apart from the Evangelists) but few have descended to us. The Koran (partly compiled from the Bible) was composed by the imposter Mahomet, in the seventh century. At that epoch there were few books even in Europe, the most enlightened portion of our world, and this literary darkness prevailed three hundred years longer.
A curious episode in the history of early bookmaking occurred in the sixth century, Cornelius Agrippa has related, in his Vanity of Science, that a contrivance had been invented, by which the several parts of speech in any language could be combined by a system of circles worked in an ingenious manner. The component parts—nouns, verbs, etc.—come together so as to form complete sentences—a very convenient contrivance for writers who are deficient in what we consider essentials—intellect, learning, and invention. Sir Walter Scott, in his Life of Swift, says that the dean was indebted for his entertaining and witty satire on pretending philosophers, as displayed in his Flying Island of Laputa, to the above historical fact. The machine of the Professor of Lagado, in Gulliver's Travels, for imparting knowledge and composing books on all subjects without assistance from genius or knowledge, was designed to ridicule the art invented by Raymond Tully, the individual referred to by Cornelius Agrippa. Various improvements on this mechanical mode of composition were tried, but of course with utter failure.
During long periods of barbarism, entire libraries of rolls and books were destroyed by ruthless and ignorant soldiery, as in Caesar's time, when the library of 700,000 volumes which had been amassed by Ptolemy was burnt by Caesar's troops. The great library collected at Constantinople by Constantine and his successors was burnt in the eighth century.
The number of books written and collected by King Alfred was extensive, when we take into account the extent of ignorance that prevailed in England during the ninth century—an amount which may be estimated from the fact that there was much difficulty in providing a tutor competent to instruct the royal youth when twelve years old. Yet he, like his celebrated contemporary, Charlemagne, became eminent for encouraging literature, and for his high repute in erudition and book-writing, when Anglo-Saxon literature was despicably low. The extreme paucity of books in England in the eleventh century may be inferred from a mandate of Archbishop Lanfranc to librarians of English monasteries, ordering them to deliver one book at the commencement of Lent to the monks in turn, and that any monk who neglected to read it should perform penance. Anciently every great church and monastery had its little library; and, as education was almost entirely limited to ecclesiastics during the middle ages, few books and transcribers were required.
The survey of the lands of England him Doomsday Book, in two volumes, was commenced by command of William the Conqueror, in the year 1080, and completed in six years. The book obtained its name either from a room in the Royal Treasury called Domus Dei, in Winchester, or from Saxon words signifying doom or judgment, no appeal from its record being permitted. The first volume is a folio, the second a quarto, and both are written in abbreviated Latin; the writing being on vellum, strongly bound, studded, and inclosed in a leather cover. A copy of Magna Charta, the great charter of British liberty, granted and confirmed by preceding monarchs, but re-enacted after a struggle between the Barons and that wicked man, King John, in the thirteenth century, is preserved in Lincoln Cathedral. There were twenty-five original sealed copies of it written on vellum; one copy was sent to each English diocese, and to a few special places besides. About twenty-five barons were present when this important document was drawn up, none of room signed it; it was only attested by the Great Seal of England. His majesty could not write; and it may be assumed that his twenty-five nobles were equally illiterate. If any of them were penmen, it was very courtier-like on their part to decline doing what their king was incompetent to do.
Whether Italian or Irish manuscripts were the earliest in which ornamental letters were employed, is an undecided question. The finest specimen of the illuminated is the Book of Kells, of the fifth or sixth century. This beautiful antique is preserved in the library of the King's College, and is thought to surpass in minuteness of finish and splendor of decoration the famous Durham Book, or Gospels of Lindisfarne, which, though probably executed in the north of England, is classed among Anglo-Hibernian books, because Irish literature was more advanced than English in the fifth, sixth, and seventh centuries. If this beautiful art of illuminating originated in the East, it reached its perfection in the west of Europe. In the British Museum there is a copy of the Gospels executed at Aix-la-Chapelle in the eighth century, known as the Golden Gospels, the entire text being in gold, on white vellum.
We are now to touch upon the variety and forms of books or booklings —if we may invent a name—after the art of printing was discovered, about the middle of the fifteenth century—a subject too familiar to occupy any space here for details as to invention or progress.
Chaucer expressed in rhyme the inconvenience of being obliged to correct every copy of his works after the scrivener's hands; he did not anticipate the invention of types in a century afterwards, and the employment of readers or correctors of the press.
Almanacs shall have the precedents, not so much from their high rank in literary importance, but from their antiquity and pioneer character in the march of uninspired literature. The Arabians, who studied astronomy and astrology, noted the signs of the seasons, and regulated their field occupations by the direction of their almanac makers, who were their wise men; they would neither sow nor reap, nor trim their beards and nails, without consulting their almanacs; they introduced their rules of practice into Europe. A German named Müller constructed an almanac in its present form, suited to general writers. An English writer who called himself Poor Robin, published long ago an almanac remarkable for coarseness and eccentricity. The following are specimens of his style (they recently appeared in a public journal); we present but a few:
"Julius Caesar did the Britons came;
Conquering will you him into England came;
Brave Montrose was basely murdered;
The Rev. Dr. Stewart lost his head;
The plague raged very sore at London;
London burnt, whereby many were undone;
The crown on Anna's head was placed;
She expired, and George's head it graced."
So much for historical records. There a calendar among his monthly observations:
"January—The gardens now doing healed no posies,
And men in cloaks muffle their noses."
"March—A toast we plunged in March beer,
Being sugared well, and drunk up clear,
Revives the spirit, the heart doth cheer;
And, had for three pence, is not dear."
This old Robin shamefully pecks at the fair sex. In his notes on April he says:
"Then let young people have a care,
Nor run their heads in marriage snare;
A woman's tongue is like the ocean.
It ebbs and flows in constant motion;
But yet herein a difference grows—
Her tongue ne'er ebbs, but always flows."
...
No booklings have multiplied more almanacs: we have now clerical, medical, naval, military, aye, horticultural, down to children's almanacs; and amongst these almanacs there is one entitled Almanac des Voleurs. Magazines swarm, ranging from the highest class of religious, literary, and social-scientific, not forgetting industrial, subjects, to the most commonplace and trifling matters. The Gentleman's Magazine is stated to have been the first of the class published in England. Of reviews we have a long array, distinguished by every shade of uniform and badge, and from them a vast amount of useful and pleasurable information is obtainable. This class of books first appeared in the middle of the last century; one entitled the Monthly Review was the first published.
The first newspaper was published in the time of Queen Elizabeth—The English Mercury, of which the earliest number is in the British Museum, and bears the date 1588. In the reign of Queen Anne there was but one daily paper, which made a slow and tedious course of circulation; whereas in these days newspapers are everywhere, and the leading ones convey intelligence of the whole world's transactions, and issue admirable essays, affording information on every subject, and this within a marvellously short space of time.
Books are so common, that it becomes necessary to be careful in the selection of them. Tares and wheat will spring up together; the earth produces noxious weeds with the most excellent fruit. If, then, we do not reject the tainted and imperfect grains, a diseased crop is the result. It cannot be expected in this age of inquiry and the rapid progress of learning, that all books should be of an improving character, but the good greatly overbalance the evil. "This advantage," said Gregory the Great (writing so early as the end of the sixth century), "we owe to a multiplicity of books; one book falls in the way of one man, and another best suits the level or the apprehension of another; it is of service that the same subject should be handled by several persons after different methods, though all on the same principle." A superfluity of good books is beneficial; I would [{110}] illustrate this proposition thus: The Nile as it flows fertilizes a vast tract of land; but if it were not for the streams and rivulets that are artificially constructed to diverge from it, in order to draw from the main supply of water some portion of the alimentary matter it contains, other tracts would not be fertilized: so the great folios in their wide expanse of text and margin have their important use, while the streams and rills which issue from the parent flood are illustrative of quartos, octavos, duodecimos, 24mos, and 48mos, that refresh and enrich minds innumerable.