By Paul Nathan.
Though for more than half a century machines adapted for the setting
of type have been in use, it is only within a few years that the
average printer of books has been enabled to avail himself of the
services of a mechanical substitute for the hand compositor. The fact
seems to be that despite the ingenuity that was brought to bear upon
the problem, the pioneer inventors were satisfied to obtain speed,
with its resultant economy, at the expense of the quality of the
finished product. Thus, until comparatively recently, machine
composition was debarred from the establishments of the makers of fine
books, and found its chief field of activity in the office of
newspaper publishers and others to whom a technically perfect output
was not essential so long as a distinct saving of time and labor could
be assured. Thanks, however, to persistent effort on the part of those
inventors who would not be satisfied until a machine was evolved which
should equal in its output the work of the hand compositor, the
problem has been triumphantly solved, and to-day the very finest
examples of the printed book owe their being to the mechanical
type-setter.
The claim is made for one of these machines, the monotype, that, so
far from lowering the standard of composition, its introduction into
the offices of the leading book printers of the world has had the
contrary effect, and that it is only the work of the most skilful hand
compositor which can at every point be compared with that turned out
by the machine. The fact that the type for some recent books of the
very highest class, so-called "editions de luxe," has been cast and
set by the monotype machine would seem to afford justification for
this claim, extravagant as at first glance it may appear.
The monotype machine is, to use a Hibernicism, two machines, which,
though quite separate and unrelated, are yet mutually interdependent
and necessary the one to the other. One of these is the composing
machine, or keyboard, the other the caster, or type-founder. To begin
with the former: this is in appearance not unlike a large typewriter
standing upon an iron pedestal, the keyboard which forms its principal
feature having two hundred and twenty-five keys corresponding to as
many different characters. This keyboard is generally placed in some
such position in the printing office as conduces to the health and
comfort of the operator, for there is no more noise or disagreeable
consequence attendant on its operation than in the case of the
familiar typewriter, which it so markedly resembles.
It has been said that the machines are interdependent; yet they are
entirely independent as to time and place. The keyboard, as a matter
of fact, acts as a sort of go-between betwixt the operator and the
casting-machine, setting the latter the task it has to perform and
indicating to it the precise manner of its performance. A roll of
paper, which as the keyboard is operated continuously unwinds and is
rewound, forms the actual means of communication between the two
machines. The operator, as he (or she, for in increasing numbers women
are being trained as monotype operators) sits facing the keyboard, has
before him, conveniently hanging from an adjustable arm, the "copy"
that has to be set in type. As he reads it he manipulates the keys
precisely as does an operator on a typewriter, but each key as it is
depressed, in place of writing a letter, punches certain round holes
in the roll of paper. Enough keys are depressed to form a word, then
one is touched to form a space, and so on until just before the end of
the line is reached (the length of this line, or the "measure," as it
is termed, has at the outset been determined upon by the setting of an
indicator) a bell rings, and the operator knows that he must prepare
to finish the line with a completed word or syllable and then proceed
to justify it. "Justification," as it is termed, is perhaps the
most difficult function of either the hand or the machine compositor.
On the deftness with which this function is discharged depends almost
entirely the typographic excellence of the printed page. To justify is
to so increase the distance between the words by the introduction of
type-metal "spaces" as to enable the characters to exactly fill the
line. To make these spaces as nearly equal as possible is the aim of
every good printer, and in proportion as he succeeds in his endeavor
the printed page will please the eye and be free from those
irregularities of "white space," which detract from its legibility as
well as from its artistic appearance.
[Illustration: The Monotype Keyboard.]
[Illustration: The Monotype Caster.]
That the monotype should not only "justify" each line automatically,
but justify with a mathematical exactness impossible of attainment by
the more or less rough-and-ready methods of the most careful human
type-setter is at first thought a little bewildering. The fact
remains, however, that it does so, and another triumph is to be
recorded for man's "instruments of precision."
Monotype justification is effected as follows: an ingenious
registering device waits, as it were, on all the movements of the
operator, with the result that when he has approached as close to the
end of the line as he dare go, he has merely to glance at a
cylindrical dial in front of him. The pointer on this dial signifies
to him which of the "justifying keys" he must depress. He touches
them in accordance therewith, and the line is justified, or rather it
_will_ be justified when, as will be seen later on, the casting
machine takes up its part of the work. That is the outward
manifestation; it remains to be seen in what manner the machine
accomplishes its task. Firstly, the machine automatically notes the
exact width of the space left over at the line's end; then, also
automatically, it records the number of spaces between the words
already set which form the incompleted line; finally, it divides the
residuary space into as many parts as there are word-spaces, and
allots to each of these one of the parts. Thus if there is one-tenth
of an inch to spare at the end of the line and ten word-spaces, then
one-hundredth of an inch added to each of these spaces will justify
the line with mathematical accuracy. But the machine will do something
more wonderful than this. It will separately justify separate parts of
the same line. The utility of this is comprehended when it is pointed
out that when the "copy" to be set consists of what is technically
termed "tabular" matter, the various columns of figures or so forth
composing it are not composed vertically but horizontally and so each
section must of necessity be justified separately.
Should the compositor be required to "over-run illustrations," as the
term goes, in other words to leave a space in which the "block" for a
cut may be inserted, so that it may have type all around it or on one
side of it only, the machine offers no difficulty at all. All that the
operator has to do in this case is to carry the composition of each
line as far as necessary and then complete it with a row of "quads,"
or spaces. Thus, when the composition is cast by the casting-machine
the space into which the block is to fit is occupied by a square of
"quads." These have only to be lifted out, the block inserted, and the
trick is done.
We will then imagine that the operator has finished his task. Of the
bank of two hundred and twenty-five keys in front of him (the
equivalent of a full "font" of type, with figures, italics, and
symbols complete), he has depressed in turn those necessary to spell
out the words of his copy, he has put a space between the words he has
justified in accordance with the dictates of the justifying dial, has
arranged the spaces for the insertion of blocks or illustrations, and
as the result of his labors he has merely a roll of perforated paper
not unlike that which operates the now familiar pianola or
piano-player. Yet this roll of paper is the informing spirit, as it
were, of the machine. Its production is the only portion of the work
of the monotype for which a human directing agency is necessary, every
other function being purely automatic.
The roll of perforated ribbon is lifted off the keyboard and put in
place on the casting-and setting-machine. As it is swiftly unwound it
delivers to the casting-machine the message with which the operator
has charged it. Through the perforations he has made compressed air is
forced. Now, as has been explained, the holes correspond to the
characters or typographic symbols of the "copy," and the jet of air
forced through them sets in motion the machinery, which controls what
is known as the "matrix-case," a rectangular metal frame about five
inches square, which contains two hundred and twenty-five matrices, or
little blocks of hardened copper, each one of which is a mould
corresponding to a character on the keyboard. This frame is mounted
horizontally on a slide, which by an ingenious mechanical movement
brings any one of the two hundred and twenty-five matrices over what
is termed the mould. The particular matrix thus placed in position is
determined by those particular holes punched in the paper ribbon at
the keyboard, through which the compressed air is at that precise
moment being forced.
The mould referred to is closed by the matrix, a jet of molten metal
is forced in, and in an instant the type is cast, its face being
formed by the matrix, its body or shank by the mould. The cast type is
ejected and takes its place in the galley, to be followed by another
and that by yet others in their regular rotation. It must, however, be
pointed out that the composition emerges from the machine hind part
foremost and upside down as it were. This enables the justification
holes, which were originally punched at the _end_ and not at the
beginning of each line, to direct the proper casting of the spaces in
the lines to which they correspond.
It will be seen, therefore, that the casting portion of the monotype
machine is actually automatic. It performs all its operations without
human assistance or direction. Occasionally it will stop of its own
accord and refuse to work, but this merely means that it has found
something amiss with the perforated instructions, a mistake as to the
length of a line or so forth, and it refuses to continue until the
workman in charge of it puts the error right, then it starts on again
and continues on its even course, casting letters and spaces and
punctuation marks, and arranging them first in words, then in lines,
next in paragraphs, and finally in a column on the galley.
The casting-machine works at so high a rate of speed (casting from one
hundred and forty to one hundred and fifty characters per minute) that
it can in its output keep well ahead of the operator on the keyboard.
This, however, so far from being an inconvenience or leading to any
loss of time, is an advantage, for four casting-machines, which can
easily be looked after by one man and a boy, can cope with the work of
five keyboard operators, or if all are engaged on the same character
of composition two casters can attend to the output of three
keyboards. This suggests a reference to the facilities offered by the
machine for the production of matter composed in various faces of
type. The machine casts practically all sizes in general use from
five-point, or "pearl," to fourteen point, or "English." Owing to the
number of characters included in the matrix-case, it can at the same
time set upper and lower case, small capitals, and upper and lower
case italics, or any similar combination of two or even three
different faced alphabets. To change from one complete set of matrices
to another is a simple operation, performed in about a minute of time,
while the changing of mould, which insures a corresponding change in
the size of the "body" of the type, takes about ten minutes.
To return, however, to the perforated roll of paper, which it must be
imagined has passed entirely through the casting-machine and has been
automatically re-rolled. Its present function has come to an end, and
it is now lifted out of its position on the machine and placed away
for future reference in a drawer or cabinet. This is a by no means
unimportant feature of the Monotype, for it is thus no longer
necessary to preserve the heavy, cumbrous, and expensive "plates" of a
book in anticipation of a second edition being called for at some
future time. As a matter of fact, indeed, "plates," or electrotypes of
monotyped matter, are by no means a necessity. Many thousand
impressions can with safety be printed from the types themselves, and
these latter at the conclusion of the job can be remelted and new type
cast from the resultant metal. The paper rolls, occupying but a few
square inches of space, can be kept, and when the time arrives may be
passed through the casting-machine again, to supply a new printing
surface identical in every respect with the original.
But the galley of monotyped composition has been waiting during this
digression. It is lifted off the machine by the attendant and a rough
proof pulled, which is corrected by the proof-reader. The advantage of
the individual types is then apparent, for the composition is
corrected and otherwise handled precisely as would be the case had the
matter been set entirely by hand. Indeed, the operation consumes even
less time, for the discarded characters, instead of being placed back
carefully in their proper compartments in the case for future use, are
merely thrown aside by the corrector, to find their way eventually
into the melting pot. It may be added, however, that the Monotype
itself furnishes the types used in the correction of its
matter--"sorts," as they are termed by the printer. These are cast by
the machine during the times when it is not employed upon more
important work.
Indeed, an attachment has recently been added to the machine, whereby
its use as a type-caster is still further extended. As has been
mentioned, the machine casts and composes type of any sized face, from
five to fourteen point. With, however, the attachment referred to, it
can now cast for the use of the hand compositor complete fonts of type
up to and including thirty-six point in size, so that an entire book,
title-page included, nowadays often owes its typographical "dress" to
the ingenious machine known as "The Lanston Monotype."