Effect of Gutenberg’s Books.--His Times and Ours.--His Books
at the Cathedral.--Curiosity of the Monks.--Proposition of
the Abbot.--The “Bible for the Poor.”--A Great Work well
done.--A Good Sale.--The Canticles issued.--A Difficult
Undertaking.--Discontent.--An Accident.--Discovery of Separate
Types.--The First Font of Movable Type.--Difficulties
mastered.--The Great Helper.
It is an interesting fact in the history of printing that its
discoverer was led to issue works of an excellent and devotional
character. As time passed, numbers were disposed of to the nobility,
and occasionally one to some favored tradesman who had conquered his
alphabet. Those who had purchased the “History of St. John,” wished a
copy; and families enriched with a “Donatus,” cast about them to devise
ways and means to buy the newer works of Gutenberg.
But what changes these books effected in the households blessed with
their presence! “A man is known by the company he keeps;” and books
are most influential associates. People who had not dreamed of being
able to buy a book, by the skill of Gutenberg suddenly found themselves
enriched with the treasure. How the reader of the family dwelt on the
magic page! for seldom it was that more than one member could read. How
the little circle gathered round the fireside of an evening, listening
to catch each word of the wonderful volume, which was read and re-read,
discussed, approved, and mostly committed to memory. This eagerness of
the more enlightened classes to own and read a book, may seem strange
to us who all our lives long have been surrounded with books of all
sizes, from the abstruse tome we pore over to understand, to the
charming literary favorite that we read once and again with delight.
But our wonder will cease when we remember what a different state of
things then existed. Books were so scarce,--and this very scarcity
increased their value,--then they were made with pen and ink alone,
except by Gutenberg, who kept the secret of his block process. People
took it for granted that the books he sold them were manuscripts,
slowly written by hand; and marveled much at their exactness and
similarity.
Still, with all the interest excited by his books, an edition of some
fifty copies, sufficed to answer the demand. The mass of the people
were too ignorant to aspire to the possession of a book. They could
not read, and reasoned--if the subject came up--that books would be
useless. To buy them, would be like purchasing a carriage when horses
could not be had to draw it, or spectacles for a blind man, or shoes
for one without feet.
As was his custom, whenever a new book was issued, the inventor visited
the Cathedral with the “Ars Moriendi” to make sales. The visit was
an event of moment to the firm, far more than a trade sale is to a
publishing house of this day.
He first sought the Abbot in the library, whom he found sitting a
little apart by a table, busily examining the work of the copyists.
“Good-morning, holy Father!” said Gutenberg.
“Good-morrow, my son: hast thou brought more of thy wonderful books?”
“That I have, Father,” replied Gutenberg; and as he began to remove the
coverings, several monks gathered around him.
“What hast thou here?” asked Father Gottlieb, a gray-headed friar;
“more of thy magical books?”
“I claim no powers of magic, Father; it is simply patience that has
done it!” and opening an “Ars Memorandi,” he passed it to the critical
monk. Then taking a copy of “Ars Moriendi” he courteously presented it
to the Superior.
“Thank you, my son!” rejoined his Reverence graciously. “It is a
pleasure to examine thy manuscript.”
“Curious book!” exclaimed Father Melchoir, a middle-aged monk, who had
himself just finished a copy of the same work, by the slow process of
the pen, with incredible pains and much time. “How came you to make so
many books all alike? How did you do it? You have a great company of
scribes, eh?”
Gutenberg did not explain. Meanwhile the monks continued to gather; for
having seen some of the former issues of the lapidary, they were the
more eager to examine the new one.
“Very good! wonderful!” said one, as he turned over the pages of a book.
“It is not like the work of our hands,” added another.
“But you have not answered my questions!” persisted Father Melchoir,
piqued that Gutenberg made such a show of industry and careful
penmanship.
“I can even tell thee that I have accomplished it by patience,” was the
inventor’s reply.
“Why, we claim not to be wanting in that virtue,” said Father Melchoir,
“but none of us can compete with your speed in writing. Every few weeks
you bring us in twelve or more books, all carefully written out in half
the time it takes our readiest scribe to make one copy!”
“Moreover,” added another, as he compared two copies, “the letters are
so exact and regular; why, these two copies have just as many letters
and words on a page, made precisely alike!”
“But, the books are unadorned!” broke in Father Melchoir. “And very
plain and poverty-stricken they look to me after gazing on our
illuminated books, with their beautiful pictures, rich bindings, silk
embroidered with gold and silver thread, and their backs of ivory
exquisitely carved, or embellished with filigree-work and pearls and
precious stones. One would suppose that a lapidary might at least use
ornaments that are in his line!”
“I am not ambitious of adornment,” answered Gutenberg. “I would greatly
prefer to circulate twelve books in a neat plain dress than one in rich
pictures and binding. My twelve books are made to be read; while an
embellished copy is only fit to be locked up with clasps, and kept in a
chest or cage, to be taken out on great occasions.”
The Superior meanwhile had been absorbed in the copy Gutenberg had
presented him, and appeared not to notice the conversation. He now
motioned the monks to withdraw; then, turning to Gutenberg, said,--
“I have a word to thee, my son!”
“I am ready to hear, holy Father!”
“Are these books made with the pen of the copyist?” and his keen eye
fell on the lapidary with a searching glance.
Gutenberg was embarrassed for an answer.
“It is as I supposed,” continued the Superior. “They are made by
engraved blocks, like the ‘St. Christopher’ and the ‘Biblia Pauperum.’”
Gutenberg saw that his secret was out; but his consternation was
allayed when the Father added, “It may be that we can furnish you with
a work to engrave and imprint. How would you like to undertake with
the ‘Biblia Pauperum?’ The copy which belongs to our library is rudely
executed, and I doubt not you would greatly improve upon it. It is so
rough and uncouth that I sometimes think the original manuscript copy
made by Ausgarius in the ninth century must have been a better specimen
of art. Think the matter over, my son, and let me know your decision at
an early day.”
Gutenberg took leave, and on reaching home consulted the rest of the
company about imprinting a new issue of the “Biblia Pauperum.” It
chanced that not one of the firm had seen the book, with the exception
of Andreas Dritzhn, who once examined the copy in the Cathedral. He was
in favor of engaging in the work, if the monks would take copies enough
to pay them well for their labor. This was a point which Gutenberg was
deputed to ascertain, that there might be no risk in devoting the
requisite time to perfect the engraving,--an undertaking of no small
magnitude.
Accordingly, shortly after, Gutenberg made another visit to the
Cathedral to confer with the Superior. He met with a cordial greeting,
and almost abruptly the Father began:--
“And what is thy decision, son Gutenberg; wilt thou prepare for us new
copies of the ‘Biblia Pauperum?’”
“I shall rejoice to engage in the enterprise,” was the reply, “if I
can do so without too much risk, but it will be a slow and toilsome
undertaking, involving much expense”--
“Which you will be paid for when it is finished.”
“But who will buy the book?”
“A goodly number of priests will need copies,” replied the Father. “The
forty curious pictures of which the book is composed, were designed
to illustrate a series of skeleton sermons. They are of great use
in stirring the preacher’s imagination, and storing his memory with
excellent texts. The book, therefore, is mainly suited to the different
religious orders, and will have sale chiefly among them. Still, as it
is taken from the Bible, and called the ‘Bible for the Poor,’ others
will buy it besides the priests, and it may have a wide circulation.
Numbers will be needed to give the monks each a chance to examine it
as often as is desirable, although the different copies will be chained
in cages, or on tablets, that no person may appropriate one solely to
his own use.”
This was an era in the affairs of Gutenberg. His art was acknowledged
and patronized by the Superior, and he himself really promoted above
the monks, who were prominent not only among the book-makers or
book-sellers, but the literati of their day. Still Gutenberg, as he
called to mind the jealousy of Father Melchoir, feared fully to rely on
patronage from the friars; and it was only the assurance of the worthy
Superior that induced him to engage in the expensive enterprise of
bringing out a new “Biblia Pauperum.”
“Tarry a little,” said the Abbot, as the lapidary was leaving; “I will
lend thee our ‘Biblia,’ for a copy.” Then going to the side of the room
where the light streamed in from a lofty painted window, he unlocked
a cage, and taking the valued book from a gilded bracket, unfastened
the chain which confined it to the wall, and, carefully wrapping it
in paper, gave it to Gutenberg, who hastened away, intent on the new
project before him.
[Illustration: BLOCK-PRINTING FROM THE BIBLIA PAUPERUM.]
Dritzhn had become a skillful engraver, but it was necessary to secure
the services of two other wood-engravers, residing in Strasbourg, to
whom the subjects were carried,--cuts being taken from the “Biblia”
and given to them, one by one, as they could execute them. In this way
the pictures were finished in the course of a few months. Gutenberg,
Riffe, and Hielman engraved the inscriptions explaining the cuts, of
which those at the top and bottom of the page consisted of Scripture
and Leonine verses, so called from Leo, the inventor, the end of each
line rhyming with the middle, as for example:--
“Gloria _factorum_ temere conceditur _horum_.”
The engraving of this “Poor Man’s Bible” was a great work; and only
the invincible energy, enthusiasm, and perseverance of those early
artisans enabled them to accomplish it in so short a time. To form some
idea of its magnitude, we must keep in mind that each page contained
four busts, or figures of persons; the two upper ones represented
the prophets, or others whose names were beneath them; the two lower
figures are unknown, or can only be conjectured. In the middle of the
pages, which are all marked by letters from the alphabet, were three
historical pictures, one of which was from the New Testament.
A fac-simile of this curious and ancient work can be seen in the Public
Library, Boston, and will richly repay the trouble of examination. This
has, however, forty-eight engravings, which may indicate that the work,
as first issued by Ausgarius in the ninth century, was comparatively
meagre, and grew to its present proportions by successive issues and by
the hand of different artists.
In due time the firm was busy in imprinting and binding the choice
volume, delighted with the good prospect of remuneration for it; and
as soon as one copy was completed, Gutenberg again betook him to the
Cathedral to exhibit it to the Abbot, who was warm in his praise of the
work.
“This is as I would have it,” said he, with a beaming face, “it is
elegantly executed, and more in keeping with the themes which it
illustrates. Our priests will now have no excuse for stupid sermons
when they officiate in the chapel or cathedral. Thou hast done nobly,
and thy labors will subserve the interests of the Church.”
He then bestowed on him a generous sum, as an earnest of the full
amount, when the copies he had engaged, were delivered; and Gutenberg,
with a happy heart, despite the glance he had of Father Melchoir’s
frowning visage, returned to his cottage to rejoice with Anna.
“It is just as I anticipated,” she exclaimed. “I knew thou wouldst
triumph. Only to think, a real ‘Biblia Pauperum’ made by my John
Gutenberg! I am proud and happy; we shall yet see good days. Then it
will so enliven us to have a copy in the house, for I have thy promise
of one of each book thou mayst make.”
“Aye, my Anna, that is as little as I can do; when I get rich, I hope
to add to thy wardrobe, as well as to our library;” and he glanced
painfully at her plain russet gown, for through all his experiments she
had practiced a rigid economy in dress.
“When thou art rich,” replied Anna, “I will not refuse the gifts thy
kind heart inclines thee to give; but for the present, I am content.”
The “Biblia” sold better than any previous work, and Gutenberg and
partners were much gratified. They did not, however, realize as much
money as if they had kept to the lapidary and mirror business. The
demand for books was so small, a market had to be created; and this
required time and the slow progress of events.
But so much pleased were they with their endeavors, that, sanguine of
still better success, they soon issued one of the books of the Bible
entire. This was the Canticles, or Solomon’s Song, and, like the
“Biblia Pauperum,” printed only on one side of the page from engraved
wooden blocks. A copy of this work is carefully treasured among
antiquities in the British Museum.
Such was the estimation in which it was held as a work of art, and such
its sale, that Gutenberg was led to attempt greater things; he even
conceived the idea of printing the entire Bible. Anna was greatly in
favor of the undertaking.
“All thou wouldst have to do,” said she, vivaciously, “would be to make
more blocks,--a block for a page; and it would be so much better than
copying. For a monk, if he lives to a good old age, and is diligent
with his pen, can only write out two Bibles; and printing from blocks
is much greater speed than that.”
“True, Anna,” was the reply; “but hast thou an idea how long it would
take to engrave the blocks for the entire Bible?”
“Nay; but thou art so expert that assuredly it would not take thee
long,--a few months, I suppose, at farthest. I do hope that thou wilt
commence on this work at once. It is so desirable to have the Bible
issued by thy art.”
“But let us calculate a little, my dear Anna. There are seven hundred
pages in the Bible. By close application, I cannot engrave carefully
and suitably more than two pages a month; and I must be full three
hundred and fifty months, or nearly thirty years, in engraving blocks
enough for the Holy Book!”
“Why, that would be dreadful!” cried Anna in dismay. “Thou wouldst be
an old man long before it was done; it would even take thy life-time!”
“Yes, Anna, and this process of engraving fine letters on blocks, when
pursued closely, is dimming to the eyes; I should be blind before my
work was half done.”
“But thou couldst divide thy labors with thy workmen, couldst thou not?”
“Aye, if I can persuade them to undertake so formidable an enterprise.
But the men are getting weary of large works, and beg me to choose
smaller ones; they assert that the new process is no better for a
large book than copying. Perhaps, however, we can issue the Gospels
gradually, by taking one book at a time.”
“Perhaps thou canst,” echoed Anna sadly.
Although Gutenberg was depressed when he thought of the immense labor
involved in imprinting so large a work as the Bible, yet he was not
wholly disheartened. This was the secret of his success; he would not
give up; was not frightened by difficulties; what the faint-hearted
would deem impossible, he feared not to attempt. The art of printing
would have remained undiscovered until this day without this courageous
perseverance.
Gutenberg said nothing to his associates about attempting the execution
of the whole Bible; indeed, he dared not entertain the idea himself;
but he proposed that they publish the Gospels. They thought this too
large a work. He replied that they could imprint the Gospel of St.
Matthew, and do as seemed best about the remainder; this was complete
in itself, and would find a ready sale.
Accordingly they were soon hard at the task of engraving blocks for the
Gospel of Matthew. Dritzhn demurred, as he mechanically toiled away,
saying, “Unless prospects brighten, we shall never get back our money.”
Fault-finding is contagious; and Hielman and Riffe soon manifested
a similar spirit. Those were gloomy days. Gutenberg meanwhile said
little, but wrought at his block with renewed vigor. It was nearly
completed; a few turns and gashes of the keen-pointed instrument, and
it would be done; when by a slip of the hand the wood was split asunder!
Dritzhn looked up aghast, as much as to say, “How can we afford this
great waste of time and labor?” Gutenberg’s quick eye interpreted the
glance, and his ingenuity was put to the test of repairing the loss. He
commenced fitting the block together in order to save some of the work
at least. While thus engaged, the thought occurred to him, What if the
carved block were broken up into separate letters, so that they might
be put together in any words desired?
He seized his knife and split the wood into the letters carved on its
surface. Thus he had wooden type, which he arranged in various words.
The light of a great invention had dawned. Absorbed in thoughts of its
advantages, he heeds not the curious eyes of his comrades, as they
intently regard him, wondering at his apparently aimless performance.
He was a philosopher, and in his search after the natural and practical
came to reason thus:--
“I want a system of impressing characters suited to the language. In
Latin there are twenty-four letters, and the same letters are used
over and over to spell many thousands of words. In a page of words I
employ portions of the alphabet a number of times; and after I have
done printing with the block, the carved letters are lost. If I could
contrive a way of separating them, I could rearrange them without
cutting new ones, and apply them to another page of different matter.
“I must, then, have my letters for printing, separate, like the letters
of the alphabet, so that I can handle them as readily as I use letters
to form words. I must carve the letters in wood with little handles to
them, that I may take them up, and place them together as if I were
spelling!”
Thus did the patient hero seize upon the idea of movable type,--the
key-stone of the art of printing. He soon tried another experiment;
splitting a block into strips, and working it down to the right size,
he carved a letter on the end of it. This cost him care and labor, for
it was more difficult than engraving on the solid block. Many bits of
wood were carved before he succeeded in getting a letter to suit him.
But after many trials he made one, then another, and another, taking
pains to form the sticks of the right thickness, so that when they were
placed together, the letters would not be too far apart.
When he had the alphabet carved, each letter on the end of a little
wooden peg, he had twenty-four type letters,--quite a little
pile,--which he regarded with pride and satisfaction, and called them
_stucke_, or type. Like a child in his first efforts in reading, so he
carefully spelt his way onward.
_Bonus homo_, “a good man,” were the words he first tried with his
type. Taking the bits of wood with the letters _bonus_, he placed them
one after the other as he spelt the word, and fastened them together
with a string. But when he came to the next word, as he had only one
_o_, he stopped and made two more before the word could be set up.
As he tried other words, he found that he needed more letters; so,
taking time, he cut out a large number of types for each letter in the
alphabet. These he placed separately in little boxes to prevent them
from being mixed. There was the box of A’s, the box of B’s, the box of
C’s, and so on for all the letters. This was a font of movable type,
the first ever made, and the great step of progress in his invention.
If you will try the experiment of cutting type out of wood, you will
more readily perceive the difficulties attending it. It was the work of
months to accomplish this, which we have noted in two or three pages.
As Gutenberg went on setting up _bonus_ in type, he found an obstacle
in keeping the letters together, so that he could rub ink on them and
print. Evening came, and he took them home to remedy the difficulty,
and notched the edges of the two outside letters, the _b_, and the _s_,
that he might tie them firmly with the linen thread he had provided.
This fastening them together, that they might bear the impression of
the solid block, was also a study; but he was not to be turned aside
by obstacles. He had energy, courage, perseverance, and ingenuity; for
Providence was inspiring him for his work.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]