The substances upon which literature has been embodied and by means
of which has been preserved and disseminated are matters of far more
importance than would be supposed at a superficial reflection. They
call for a larger consideration than the modern state and stage of the
book-making industry might seem to warrant. Now, if a book is worn
out, accidentally destroyed, or "borrowed" by some "good book-keeper"
and not returned, it is usually an easy and simple matter to secure
another. Not so, previous to the invention of printing. For then, the
cost and time required to make a book "by hand" gave to each single
copy a distinct individuality and also a correspondingly increased
importance.
The two chief desiderata of a manuscript book--of a written production
which was intended to give currency to a writer's thoughts and at the
same time to serve as a more or less permanent depository of them--are
_legibility_ and _durability_. He who writes for the publicity of his
ideas will not write on stone nor on clay; and he who writes for the
preservation of his ideas will not write on ice or dust. And he who
writes that his thoughts may be read and understood will not write with
a scrawl nor in an illegible "hand."
The foregoing observations prompt to the suggestion that not only the
materials upon which a literary production is impressed or imprinted
must be capable of easy conveyance or circulation but also that the
writing itself must be legible, and that the materials employed must
be proof to the utmost attainable extent against the obliterations of
use and time. Necessarily, therefore, an achievement so laborious as
the transcription of a written volume of whatever form (and especially
of the Bible by reason of its size, character, and importance) called
for a correspondingly larger concern and care _as to the materials
employed_ (including both the ink and the substance written upon) than
would be required in the making of a printed book wherein each separate
volume but duplicates hundreds and thousands of other volumes made from
the same plates. This requirement partly explains the care with which
the ancient manuscripts were made or copied. It was this fact that made
every copyist's work distinctively individualistic.
The permanency and durability of books is largely a matter of
relativity and fortuity. We quote from Mr. E. C. Richardson concerning
the factors affecting the survival of books: "The average chance of an
individual book for long life depends (1) on the intrinsic durability
of its material, or its ability to resist hostile environment, (2) on
isolation." He says, further: "The enemies to which books are exposed
are various: wind, fire, moisture, mold, human negligence, vandalism,
and human use. Some materials are naturally more durable than others.
Stone and metal inscriptions survive better than wood or clay, vellum
than papyrus or paper. On the other hand, however, if isolated or
protected from hostile environment, very fragile material may outlast
more substantial. Papyrus has survived in the mounds of Egypt, and
unbaked clay tablets in the mounds of Babylonia, while millions of
stone and metal inscriptions written thousands of years later have
already perished. Here the factor of isolation comes in. Fire and
pillage, moth and rust, and the bookworm destroy for the most part
without respect of persons.... An unbaked tablet which has survived
5,000 years under rubbish may crumble to dust in five years after it
has been dug up and exposed to air. The general law is that value tends
to preserve, and it has been remarked that all the oldest codices which
have survived in free environment are sumptuous copies. Literary value
on the other hand is, on the whole, a factor of destruction for the
individual rather than for survival. The better a book is the more
it is read, and the more it is read, the faster it wears out. The
worthless book on the top shelf outlasts all the rest."[18]
There is a department connected with some of the libraries of this
or other countries devoted to the specific mission of repairing
dilapidated or time-worn manuscripts or documents which, for one reason
or another, it is desirable to preserve. The following is reported to
be the method followed at the Wisconsin Historical Library: The first
thing done is to place the document between wet newspapers under weight
and leave them for several hours. This removes the creases and the
dirt. They are then put between wood pulp boards and left for a day and
then between blotters to complete the drying process. The next step is
to repair the paper. The paper in some of these documents is so old and
fragile that rough handling will destroy. Therefore it is strengthened
by a sort of transparent cloth on both sides of the paper. With some,
letters need to be mended along the edges with parchment paper. To
cover holes a piece of paper is glued over the edges and is left larger
than the holes until dry. It is then cut down to the proper size, and
the edges sandpapered until it is smooth. It is then ready for mounting
or filing for a continued lease of existence.
The world is greatly indebted to the early Jewish teachers for the
survival of ancient written documents. The ancient Jew brought a
religious devotion to the production of his sacred books--a devotion
bordering on veneration, as is shown conclusively by the "rules"
which governed him in their transcription. These are indicated in
the following "directions" to copyists, quoted from an old volume:
"A book of the law wanting but one letter, with one letter too much,
or, with an error in one single letter; written with anything but
ink; or made from the skin of an unclean animal; or on parchment not
purposely prepared for that use, or prepared by any but an Israelite;
or on parchment tied together by 'unclean' strings, shall be holden to
be corrupt. It was the rule that no word should be written without a
line first drawn on the parchment; no word to be written 'by heart,'
or without having been first orally pronounced by the writer; that no
letter should be joined to another letter; and that, if the blank space
cannot be seen all round each letter, the roll shall be 'corrupt.'
There were settled rules as to the space to be left between each
letter, and word, and section."[19] In addition to these rules we learn
from another and authentic source that there were special regulations
for the margins, and for the number of lines to the page, or to the
column of the roll; that the sheet of the book must be sewed together
with threads made of the dried tendons of clean beasts; that every
sheet of the roll must be sewed to the next--that even one loose sheet
makes a roll "unfit";--and that care must be taken that the needle does
not pierce the letters. It is a requirement that when a scribe has
begun to write the name of God he must not be interrupted till he has
finished it; that a writing, when set aside to dry, should be covered
with a cloth to protect it from dust; and that to turn a writing
downward is shameful. It was the emphatic injunction that scrupulous
care must be taken in writing the Names of God: before writing every
name of the Deity, the scribe must say, "I intend to write the Holy
Name"; otherwise the roll would be unfit.[20]
Scarcely less of concern was displayed by the early Christians in
copying their sacred books and even the classic literature. In certain
periods of the Middle Ages the value and sanctity attributed to the
transcription of a book is set forth in the fact that in many abbeys
every 'novice' "was expected to bring on the day of his profession as
a 'religious' a volume of considerable size which he had carefully
copied by his own hands," somewhat as a "thesis" is a requirement for
graduation by some modern institutions of learning.
This deep concern which a copyist felt for his work--for he had a
solicitude that his copy might endure both time and use and long
remain as a monument to himself--lent an artistic taste and, often,
a religious devotion to the creditable transcription of a book,
especially to the copying of the Bible or a part of the Bible. This
devotion and concern (often witnessed unto in annotations in the
margin or at the close of the transcribed portion of the Bible) made a
copyist scrupulously honest and painstaking in his task, and was often
disclosed in beautiful ornamentation and artistic embellishments. As
a "royal" example, the _Codex Rossanensis_, a manuscript containing
the gospels of Matthew and Mark, made, possibly, in the sixth century,
though discovered in Calabria only in 1879, is written in silver
characters on purple-colored vellum and has twelve miniatures of great
interest in the history of Byzantine art. Another manuscript of the
gospels (_Codex "N"_), the leaves of which are scattered in London,
Rome, Vienna, Petrograd, and its native home (Patmos), is also written
on purple-dyed vellum in silver and gold. There are fragmentary remains
of a sumptuous volume of the _Eusebian Canons_ which are written on
gilt vellum and beautifully ornamented. In Trinity college, Dublin,
there is a famous volume--the _Book of Kells_. This is conceded to be
in some respects the finest ancient manuscript in Europe, having no
equal as a specimen of Irish illumination and writing. It is a copy of
the Gospels, written, it is believed, about the sixth century and was
the possession of the Church of Kells until it came into the custody of
Trinity college in 1661. A space of this book measuring three-quarters
of an inch by one-half an inch, examined under a powerful microscope,
was found to contain no fewer than one hundred and fifty-eight
interlacements of a slender ribbon pattern formed with white lines
edged by black. Professor George F. Wright refers to a remarkable
Spanish manuscript for which the late Mr. J. P. Morgan paid the sum of
$30,000 in 1910. It is an Old Latin manuscript of the New Testament,
the work of a Spanish Presbyter named _Beatus_, and by whose name the
codex is known, written in the latter part of the eighth century. What
attracted Mr. Morgan was the size and beauty of the work. It was a
large folio containing 184 leaves of thick vellum, each leaf measuring
21 by 14 inches; its binding was elaborate; and it contained 110 richly
colored miniatures.[21]
Various factors--religious, artistic, and commercial--contributed to
this movement toward embellishment. The growing wealth, at times, and
the higher standards of civilization at certain stages of the Middle
Ages created new demands for illuminated and embellished manuscripts.
There were manuscripts with representations in water-colors in the
lower margin; little pictures were inserted into the text of books;
and initial letters of books or of their chapters not only reflected
the writer's artistic accomplishments but also served as expository
teaching upon the text itself. Of early achievements in this direction,
Professor Dobschütz tells us that there were examples of sumptuous
books of finest parchment in which the text was not only written
in gold and silver letters but with margins covered with beautiful
paintings, as in the "_Beatus_" manuscript, and cites as a conspicuous
example, "A copy of Genesis in Greek at the Vienna library has
forty-eight water-colors, one at the bottom of each page, telling
the same story as the text.... And this manuscript does not stand
alone; it is but one of a large group of illuminated manuscripts. This
sumptuous appearance may be taken as a sign of the value attached to
the Bible. Persecuted hitherto, it became the ruler of the Christian
empire, invested with all the glory of royalty."[22] It has been said
concerning _manuscript_ books that "the missals and office books,
and the prayer books made for royal personages at this time" (during
the thirteenth century) "are yet counted among the best examples of
book-making the world has ever seen." Of a rare and very valuable
collection of books and manuscripts assembled by the late Mr. J. P.
Morgan under the discriminating and painstaking direction of a Columbia
University professor, a writer in a New York daily says: "Massive
jeweled manuscript covers, a thousand and more years old, are there,
and marvelous hand-illuminated manuscripts, their gorgeous colorings
and exquisite workmanship, the result of years of toil by ancient
monks and mediæval artists. Many of them were once the dearest pride
and delight of kings and emperors and popes. Only potentates such as
these could command the services of the men who produced most of the
collection."