They wrote with an iron bodkin, as they did on the other substances we have noticed. The stylus was made sharp at one end to write with, and blunt and broad at the other, to deface and correct easily; hence the phrase vertere stylum, to turn the stylus, was used to express blotting out. But the Romans forbade the use of this sharp instrument, from the circumstance of many persons having used them as daggers. A schoolmaster was killed by the pugillares, or table-book, and the styles of his own scholars. They substituted a stylus made of the bone of a bird, or other animal, so that their writings resembled engravings. When they wrote on softer materials, they employed reeds and canes, split like our pens at the points, which the Orientalists still use to lay their colour or ink neater on the paper.

By the word pen in the translation of the Bible, we are to understand an iron style. Table-books of ivory are still used for memoranda, written by black-lead pencils. The Romans used ivory to write the edicts of the senate on; and the expression of libris elephantinis, which, some authors imagine, alludes to books which for their size were called elephantine, others more rationally conclude, were composed of ivory, the tusk of the elephant.

Pumice was likewise a writing material of the ancients, which they used to smooth the roughness of the parchment, or to sharpen their reeds.

In the progress of time, the art of writing consisted in painting with different kinds of ink. This novel mode of writing occasioned them to invent other materials proper to receive their writing. They now chose the thin bark of certain trees and plants; they wrote on linen, and at length, when this was found apt to become mouldy, they prepared the skins of animals. Those of asses are still in use; and on those of serpents, &c. were once written the Iliad and Odyssey. The first place where they began to dress these skins was Pergamus, in Asia; whence the Latin name is derived of Pergamenæ, or parchment. These skins are, however, better known amongst the authors of the purest Latin, under the name of membrana, so called from the membranes of animals of which they were composed. The ancients had parchments of three different colours, white, yellow, and purple. At Rome, white parchment was disliked, because it was more subject to be soiled than the others, and dazzled the eye. They generally wrote letters of gold and silver on purple or violet parchment. This custom continued in the early ages of the church; and copies of the Evangelists of this kind are preserved in the British Museum.

When the Egyptians employed for writing the bark of a plant or reed, called papyrus,[24] or paper-rush, it superseded all former modes, because this was the most convenient. Formerly there grew great quantities of it on the sides of the Nile. It is this plant which has given the name to our paper, although the latter is composed of linen or rags. After the eighth century the papyrus was superseded by parchment. The Chinese make their paper with silk. The use of paper is of great antiquity; it is what the ancient Latinists call charta, or chartæ. Before the use of parchment and paper passed to the Romans, they contrived to use the thin peel which was found on trees, between the wood of these trees and their bark. This second skin they called liber, whence the Latin word liber, a book, and library and librarian, in the European languages, and the French livre for book; but we of northern origin derive our book from the Danish bog, the beech-tree, because that being the most plentiful in Denmark, was used to engrave on. Anciently, instead of folding this bark, this parchment, or paper, as we fold ours, they rolled it according as they wrote on it; and the Latin name which they gave these rolls has passed into our language as well as the others. We say a volume or volumes, although our books are composed of pages cut and bound together. The books of the ancients on the shelves of their libraries, were rolled up on a pin, and placed erect, titled on the outside in red letters, or rubrics, and appeared like a number of small pillars on the shelves.

Curious information respecting small, or Minute Writing.—The Iliad of Homer in a nut-shell, which Pliny says that Cicero once saw, it is pretended might have been a fact, however to some it may appear impossible. Ælian notices an artist who wrote a distich in letters of gold, which he inclosed in the rind of a grain of corn.

Antiquity, and modern times, have recorded many penmen, whose glory consisted in writing so small a hand, that it could not be legible to the naked eye. One wrote a verse of Homer on a grain of millet; and another, more indefatigably industrious in this important trifling, is said by Menage to have written whole sentences which were not perceptible to the eye without the microscope: pictures and portraits, also, appeared at first to be lines and scratches thrown down at random; one of these formed the face of the Dauphiness, with the most pleasing delicacy and correct resemblance. He read an Italian poem in praise of this princess, containing some thousands of verses, written by an officer, in the space of a foot and a half. This species of curious idleness has not been lost in our own country: about a century ago, this minute writing was a fashionable curiosity. A drawing of the head of Charles I. is in the library of St. John’s college, at Oxford. It is wholly composed of minute written characters, which at a small distance resemble the lines of engraving. The lines of the head and ruff, are said to contain the book of Psalms, the Creed, and the Lord’s Prayer. In the British Museum we find a drawing representing the portrait of Queen Anne, not much above the size of the hand. On this drawing appear a number of lines and scratches, which, the librarian assures the marvelling spectator, includes the entire contents of a thin folio volume, that on this occasion is carried in the hand, as if to vouch for the truth of a statement so liable to be received with hesitation.

On this subject it may be worth noticing, that the learned Huet asserts that he, like the rest of the world, for a long time considered as a fiction the story of that industrious writer, who is said to have inclosed the Iliad in a nut-shell. But having examined the matter more closely, he thought it possible. One day, in company at the Dauphin’s, this learned man trifled half a hour in proving it. A piece of vellum, about ten inches in length and eight in width, pliant and firm, can be folded up and enclosed in the shell of a large walnut. It can hold in its breadth one line, which can contain 30 verses, and in its length 250 lines. With a crow-quill the writing can be perfect. A page of this vellum will then contain 7500 verses, and the reverse as much; the whole 15,000 verses of the Iliad. And this he proved in their presence, by using a piece of paper, and with a common pen. The thing is possible to be effected; and if some occasion should happen, when paper is excessively rare, it may be useful to know, that a volume of matter may be contained in a very small space.

We submit the following curious particulars respecting the Titles of Books.—The Jewish, and many Oriental authors, were fond of allegorical titles, which always shews the most puerile age of taste. The titles were usually adapted to their obscure works. It might exercise an able enigmatist to explain their allusions; for we must understand by “The Heart of Aaron,” a commentary on several of the prophets. “The Bones of Joseph” is an introduction to the Talmud. “The Garden of Nuts,” and “The Golden Apples,” are theological questions, and “The Pomegranate with its Flower,” is a treatise of ceremonies no longer practised. Jortin gives a title, which he says, of all the fantastical titles he can recollect, is one of the prettiest. A Rabbin published a catalogue of Rabbinical writers, and called it Labia Dormientium, from Cantic. vii. 9. “Like the best wine of my beloved, that goeth down sweetly, causing the lips of those that are asleep to speak.” It has a double meaning, of which he was not aware, for most of his Rabbinical brethren talk very much like men in their sleep.

Almost all their works bear such titles as, Bread, Gold, Silver, Roses, Eyes, &c.; in a word, any thing that meant nothing.