The story of paper-making

by Frank Osgood Butler

♦Tradition untrustworthy♦

But to what agency do we owe the preservation of our inheritance? What conservator has kept our rich estate from being scattered to the four winds of heaven? For the wealth that is ours to-day we are indebted in large measure to man’s instinctive desire, manifested in all ages, to perpetuate his knowledge and achievements. Before the thought of a permanent record had begun to take shape in men’s minds, oral tradition, passing from father to son, and from generation to generation, sought to keep alive the memory of great achievements and valorous deeds. But tradition proved itself untrustworthy. Reports were often imperfect, misleading, exaggerated. Through dull ears, the spoken words were received into minds beclouded by ignorance, and passed on into the keeping of treacherous memories. As the races advanced in learning and civilization, they realized that something more permanent and accurate was necessary; that without written records of some sort there could be little, if any, progress, since each generation must begin practically where the preceding one had begun, and pass through the same stages of ignorance and inexperience.

♦Hieroglyphic records♦

In this strait, men sought help from Nature, and found in the huge rocks and bowlders shaped by her mighty forces a means of perpetuating notable events in the histories of nations and the lives of individuals. From the setting up of stones to commemorate great deeds and solemn covenants, it was but a step to the hewing of obelisks, upon which the early races carved their hieroglyphs, rude pictures of birds and men, of beasts and plants. As early as four thousand years before Christ, these slender shafts of stone were reared against the deep blue of the Egyptian sky, and for ages their shadows passed with the sun over the restless, shifting sands of the desert. Most of the ancient obelisks have crumbled to dust beneath Time’s unsparing hand, but a few fragmentary specimens are still in existence, while the British Museum is so fortunate as to be in possession of one shaft of black basalt that is in perfect condition. A part of it is covered with writing, a part with bas-reliefs. In Egypt these hieroglyphs were employed almost exclusively for religious writings—a purpose suggested by the derivation of the word itself, which comes from the Greek, ieros, a priest, and glypha, a carving.

♦Inscriptions on stone and clay♦

As the obelisk had taken the place of the rude stones and unwieldy bowlders which marked man’s first effort to solve an ever-recurring problem, so it in turn was superseded. The temples were sacred places, and especially fitted to become the repositories of the records that were to preserve for coming generations the deeds of kings and priests. Accordingly, the pictured stories of great events were graven on stone panels in the temple walls, or on slabs or tablets of the same enduring material. Then came a forward step to the easier and cheaper method of writing on soft clay. The monarchs, not being obliged to take into consideration questions of ease or economy, continued to make use of the stone tablets, but private individuals usually employed clay, not only for literary and scientific writings, but in their business transactions as well. A careful baking, either by artificial heat or in the burning rays of a tropic sun, rendered the clay tablets very enduring, so that many which have been dug from ancient ruins are now in a remarkable state of preservation, bearing letters and figures as clear as any of the inscriptions on marble, stone, or metal that have come to us from the splendid days of Greece or Rome. The people of Assyria and Chaldea recorded almost every transaction, whether public or private in character, upon tablets of clay, forming thus a faithful transcript of their daily lives and occupations, which may be read to-day by those who hold the key; thus it is we bridge the gulf of centuries. From the ruins of ancient Nineveh and Babylon, records of almost every sort have been unearthed, all inscribed on indestructible terra-cotta. There are bank-notes and notes of hand, deeds of property, public records, statements of private negotiations, and memoranda of astronomical observations. The life in which they played a part has passed into history; the once proud and mighty cities lie prostrate, and upon their ruins other cities have risen, only to fall as they fell. The terra-cotta to which they committed their records is all that is left, and the tablets that were fashioned and inscribed so long ago give to us the best histories of Chaldea, Babylonia, and Assyria.

♦Assyrian, Babylonian and Chaldean records♦

One of the largest collections of these clay-writings is now in the British Museum and was taken from a great edifice in Assyria, which was probably the residence of Sennacherib. Several series of narratives are comprehended in the collection; one referring to the language, legends, and mythology of the Assyrians; another recording the story of creation, in which “Water-deep” is said to be the creator of all forms of life then in existence, while a third relates to the deluge and the story of the Assyrian Moses. But however interesting these facts may be in themselves, we refer to them only by way of illustration, since we are dealing not so much with the writing itself as with the material on which writing was done.

♦Inscriptions on prisms♦

Another form of tablet, a somewhat singular variation it may seem, was in use among the Assyrians at a very early date. This was a prism, having either six or eight sides, and made of exceedingly fine terra-cotta. Such prisms were frequently deposited by the Assyrian kings at the corners of temples, after having been inscribed with accounts of the notable events in their lives, interspersed with numerous invocations. Apparently the custom was similar to that followed at the present day, and the ancient Assyrian tablets no doubt served the same purpose as the records, newspapers, and documents that are now deposited in the corner-stones of public or other important buildings. The prisms used as tablets varied in length from a foot and a half to three feet, and were covered very closely with small writing. That the writers’ endeavor was to make the most of the space at their disposal is suggested by the fact that upon a prism found in the ruins of the ancient city of Ashur the inscriptions are so crowded that there are thirty lines in the space of six inches, or five lines to the inch. The prism recites the valiant deeds of Tiglath-Pileser I., who reigned from 1120 to 1100 B. C., and undertook campaigns against forty-two other nations and their kings. He was a monarch whose very name inspired terror among the surrounding peoples, and his reign was filled with stirring events and brilliant achievements. ♦Economy of space♦ Small wonder that it was necessary to crowd the inscriptions upon the prism! Rawlinson’s “Ancient Monarchies,” in an account of the writings that have come down to us from the earliest days of the world’s recorded history, has this to say: “The clay tablets are both numerous and curious. They are of various sizes, ranging from nine inches long by six and a half wide to an inch and a half long by an inch wide, or even less. Sometimes they are entirely covered by writings, while at others they exhibit on a portion of their surface impressions of seals, mythological emblems, and the like. Some thousands have been recovered. Many are historical, and still more are mythological.” Their use in writing and drawing was almost universal, and we read that the prophet Ezekiel, when dwelling with “them of the captivity at Telabib, that dwelt by the river of Chebar,” was commanded, “Take thee a tile and lay it before thee, and portray upon it the city, even Jerusalem.” (Ezekiel iv. 1.)