Curiosities of Literature Volume I Part 13

"As to Cicero, I am of the common opinion that, learning excepted, he had no great natural parts. He was a good citizen, of an affable nature, as all fat heavy men--(_gras et gausseurs_ are the words in the original, meaning perhaps broad jokers, for Cicero was not fat)--such as he was, usually are; but given to ease, and had a mighty share of vanity and ambition. Neither do I know how to excuse him for thinking his poetry fit to be published. 'Tis no great imperfection to write ill verses; but it is an imperfection not to be able to judge how unworthy bad verses were of the glory of his name. For what concerns his eloquence, that is totally out of comparison, and I believe will never be equalled."

PREFACES.

A preface, being the entrance to a book, should invite by its beauty. An elegant porch announces the splendour of the interior. I have observed that ordinary readers skip over these little elaborate compositions. The ladies consider them as so many pages lost, which might better be employed in the addition of a picturesque scene, or a tender letter to their novels. For my part I always gather amus.e.m.e.nt from a preface, be it awkwardly or skilfully written; for dulness, or impertinence, may raise a laugh for a page or two. A preface is frequently a superior composition to the work itself: for, long before the days of Johnson, it had been a custom for many authors to solicit for this department of their work the ornamental contribution of a man of genius. Cicero tells his friend Atticus, that he had a volume of prefaces or introductions always ready by him to be used as circ.u.mstances required. These must have been like our periodical essays. A good preface is as essential to put the reader into good humour, as a good prologue is to a play, or a fine symphony to an opera, containing something a.n.a.logous to the work itself; so that we may feel its want as a desire not elsewhere to be gratified. The Italians call the preface _La salsa del libra_, the sauce of the book, and if well seasoned it creates an appet.i.te in the reader to devour the book itself. A preface badly composed prejudices the reader against the work. Authors are not equally fortunate in these little introductions; some can compose volumes more skilfully than prefaces, and others can finish a preface who could never be capable of finis.h.i.+ng a book.

On a very elegant preface prefixed to an ill-written book, it was observed that they ought never to have _come together_; but a sarcastic wit remarked that he considered such _marriages_ were allowable, for they were _not of kin_.

In prefaces an affected haughtiness or an affected humility are alike despicable. There is a deficient dignity in Robertson's; but the haughtiness is now to our purpose. This is called by the French, "_la morgue litteraire_," the surly pomposity of literature. It is sometimes used by writers who have succeeded in their first work, while the failure of their subsequent productions appears to have given them a literary hypochondriasm. Dr. Armstrong, after his cla.s.sical poem, never shook hands cordially with the public for not relis.h.i.+ng his barren labours. In the _preface_ to his lively "Sketches" he tells us, "he could give them much bolder strokes as well as more delicate touches, but that he _dreads the danger of writing too well_, and feels the value of his own labour too sensibly to bestow it upon the _mobility_." This is pure milk compared to the gall in the _preface_ to his poems. There he tells us, "that at last he has taken the _trouble to collect them_!

What he has destroyed would, probably enough, have been better received by the _great majority of readers_. But he has always _most heartily despised their opinion_." These prefaces remind one of the _prologi galeati_, prefaces with a helmet! as St. Jerome ent.i.tles the one to his Version of the Scriptures. These _armed prefaces_ were formerly very common in the age of literary controversy; for half the business of an author consisted then, either in replying, or antic.i.p.ating a reply, to the attacks of his opponent.

Prefaces ought to be dated; as these become, after a series of editions, leading and useful circ.u.mstances in literary history.

Fuller with quaint humour observes on INDEXES--"An INDEX is a necessary implement, and no impediment of a book, except in the same sense wherein the carriages of an army are termed _Impedimenta_. Without this, a large author is but a labyrinth without a clue to direct the reader therein. I confess there is a lazy kind of learning which is _only Indical_; when scholars (like adders which only bite the horse's heels) nibble but at the tables, which are _calces librorum_, neglecting the body of the book. But though the idle deserve no crutches (let not a staff be used by them, but on them), pity it is the weary should be denied the benefit thereof, and industrious scholars prohibited the accommodation of an index, most used by those who most pretend to contemn it."

EARLY PRINTING.

There is some probability that this art originated in China, where it was practised long before it was known in Europe. Some European traveller might have imported the hint.[30] That the Romans did not practise the art of printing cannot but excite our astonishment, since they actually used it, unconscious of their rich possession. I have seen Roman stereotypes, or immoveable printing types, with which they stamped their pottery.[31] How in daily practising the art, though confined to this object, it did not occur to so ingenious a people to print their literary works, is not easily to be accounted for. Did the wise and grave senate dread those inconveniences which attend its indiscriminate use? Or perhaps they did not care to deprive so large a body of scribes of their business. Not a hint of the art itself appears in their writings.

When first the art of printing was discovered, they only made use of one side of a leaf; they had not yet found out the expedient of impressing the other. Afterwards they thought of pasting the blank sides, which made them appear like one leaf. Their blocks were made of soft woods, and their letters were carved; but frequently breaking, the expense and trouble of carving and gluing new letters suggested our moveable types which, have produced an almost miraculous celerity in this art. The modern stereotype, consisting of entire pages in solid blocks of metal, and, not being liable to break like the soft wood at first used, has been profitably employed for works which require to be frequently reprinted. Printing in carved blocks of wood must have greatly r.e.t.a.r.ded the progress of universal knowledge: for one set of types could only have produced one work, whereas it now serves for hundreds.

When their editions were intended to be curious, they omitted to print the initial letter of a chapter: they left that blank s.p.a.ce to be painted or illuminated, to the fancy of the purchaser. Several ancient volumes of these early times have been found where these letters are wanting, as they neglected to have them painted.

The initial carved letter, which is generally a fine wood-cut, among our printed books, is evidently a remains or imitation of these ornaments.[32] Among the very earliest books printed, which were religious, the Poor Man's Bible has wooden cuts in a coa.r.s.e style, without the least shadowing or crossing of strokes, and these they inelegantly daubed over with broad colours, which they termed illuminating, and sold at a cheap rate to those who could not afford to purchase costly missals elegantly written and painted on vellum.

Specimens of these rude efforts of illuminated prints may be seen in Strutt's Dictionary of Engravers. The Bodleian library possesses the originals.[33]

In the productions of early printing may be distinguished the various splendid editions of _Primers_, or _Prayer-books_. These were embellished with cuts finished in a most elegant taste: many of them were grotesque or obscene. In one of them an angel is represented crowning the Virgin Mary, and G.o.d the Father himself a.s.sisting at the ceremony. Sometimes St. Michael is overcoming Satan; and sometimes St.

Anthony is attacked by various devils of most clumsy forms--not of the grotesque and limber family of Callot!

Printing was gradually practised throughout Europe from the year 1440 to 1500. Caxton and his successor Wynkyn de Worde were our own earliest printers. Caxton was a wealthy merchant, who, in 1464, being sent by Edward IV. to negotiate a commercial treaty with the Duke of Burgundy, returned to his country with this invaluable art. Notwithstanding his mercantile habits, he possessed a literary taste, and his first work was a translation from a French historical miscellany.[34]

The tradition of the Devil and Dr. Faustus was said to have been derived from the odd circ.u.mstance in which the Bibles of the first printer, Fust, appeared to the world; but if Dr. Faustus and Faustus the printer are two different persons, the tradition becomes suspicious, though, in some respects, it has a foundation in truth. When Fust had discovered this new art, and printed off a considerable number of copies of the Bible to imitate those which were commonly sold as MSS., he undertook the sale of them at Paris. It was his interest to conceal this discovery, and to pa.s.s off his printed copies for MSS. But, enabled to sell his Bibles at sixty crowns, while the other scribes demanded five hundred, this raised universal astonishment; and still more when he produced copies as fast as they were wanted, and even lowered his price.

The uniformity of the copies increased the wonder. Informations were given in to the magistrates against him as a magician; and in searching his lodgings a great number of copies were found. The red ink, and Fust's red ink is peculiarly brilliant, which embellished his copies, was said to be his blood; and it was solemnly adjudged that he was in league with the Infernals. Fust at length was obliged, to save himself from a bonfire, to reveal his art to the Parliament of Paris, who discharged him from all prosecution in consideration of the wonderful invention.

When the art of printing was established, it became the glory of the learned to be correctors of the press to eminent printers. Physicians, lawyers, and bishops themselves occupied this department. The printers then added frequently to their names those of the correctors of the press; and editions were then valued according to the abilities of the corrector.

The _prices_ of books in these times were considered as an object worthy of the animadversions of the highest powers. This anxiety in favour of the studious appears from a privilege of Pope Leo X. to Aldus Manutius for printing Varro, dated 1553, signed Cardinal Bembo. Aldus is exhorted to put a moderate price on the work, lest the Pope should withdraw his privilege, and accord it to others.

Robert Stephens, one of the early printers, surpa.s.sed in correctness those who exercised the same profession.[35]

To render his editions immaculate, he hung up the proofs in public places, and generously recompensed those who were so fortunate as to detect any errata.

Plantin, though a learned man, is more famous as a printer. His printing-office was one of the wonders of Europe. This grand building was the chief ornament of the city of Antwerp. Magnificent in its structure, it presented to the spectator a countless number of presses, characters of all figures and all sizes, matrixes to cast letters, and all other printing materials; which Baillet a.s.sures us amounted to immense sums.[36]

In Italy, the three Manutii were more solicitous of correctness and ill.u.s.trations than of the beauty of their printing. They were ambitious of the character of the scholar, not of the printer.

It is much to be regretted that our publishers are not literary men, able to form their own critical decisions. Among the learned printers formerly, a book was valued because it came from the presses of an Aldus or a Stephens; and even in our own time the names of Bowyer and Dodsley sanctioned a work. Pelisson, in his history of the French Academy, mentions that Camusat was selected as their bookseller, from his reputation for publis.h.i.+ng only valuable works. "He was a man of some literature and good sense, and rarely printed an indifferent work; and when we were young I recollect that we always made it a rule to purchase his publications. His name was a test of the goodness of the work." A publisher of this character would be of the greatest utility to the literary world: at home he would induce a number of ingenious men to become authors, for it would be honourable to be inscribed in his catalogue; and it would be a direction for the continental reader.

So valuable a union of learning and printing did not, unfortunately, last. The printers of the seventeenth century became less charmed with glory than with gain. Their correctors and their letters evinced as little delicacy of choice.

The invention of what is now called the _Italic_ letter in printing was made by Aldus Manutius, to whom learning owes much. He observed the many inconveniences resulting from the vast number of _abbreviations_, which were then so frequent among the printers, that a book was difficult to understand; a treatise was actually written on the art of reading a printed book, and this addressed to the learned! He contrived an expedient, by which these abbreviations might be entirely got rid of, and yet books suffer little increase in bulk. This he effected by introducing what is now called the _Italic_ letter, though it formerly was distinguished by the name of the inventor, and called the _Aldine_.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 30: China is the stronghold where antiquarian controversy rests. Beaten in affixing the origin of any art elsewhere, the controversialist enshrines himself within the Great Wall, and is allowed to repose in peace. Opponents, like Arabs, give up the chase when these gates close, though possibly with as little reason as the children of the desert evince when they quietly succ.u.mb to any slight defence.]

[Footnote 31: They are small square blocks of metal, with the name in raised letters within a border, precisely similar to those used by the modern printer. Sometimes the stamp was round, or in the shape of a foot or hand, with the potter's name in the centre. They were in constant use for impressing the clay-works which supplied the wants of a Roman household. The list of potters' marks found upon fragments discovered in London alone amounts to several hundreds.]

[Footnote 32: Another reason for the omission of a great initial is given. There was difficulty in obtaining such enriched letters by engraving as were used in ma.n.u.scripts; and there was at this time a large number of professional scribes, whose interests were in some degree considered by the printer. Hence we find in early books a large s.p.a.ce left to be filled in by the hand of the scribe with the proper letter indicated by a small type letter placed in the midst. The famous _Psalter_ printed by Faust and Scheffer, at Mentz, in 1497, is the first book having large initial letters printed in red and blue inks, in imitation of the handwork of the old caligraphers.]

[Footnote 33: The British Museum now possesses a remarkably fine series of these early works. They originated in the large sheet woodcuts, or "broadsides," representing saints, or scenes from saintly legends, used by the clergy as presents to the peasantry or pilgrims to certain shrines--a custom retained upon the Continent to the present time; such cuts exhibiting little advance in art since the days of their origin, being almost as rude, and daubed in a similar way with coa.r.s.e colour.

One ancient cut of this kind in the British Museum, representing the Saviour brought before Pilate, resembles in style the pen-drawings in ma.n.u.scripts of the fourteenth century. Another exhibits the seven stages of human life, with the wheel of fortune in the centre. Another is an emblematic representation of the Tower of Sapience, each stone formed of some mental qualification. When books were formed, a large series of such cuts included pictures and type in each page, and in one piece. The so-called Poor Man's Bible (an evidently erroneous term for it, the invention of a bibliographer of the last century) was one of these, and consists of a series of pictures from Scripture history, with brief explanations. It was most probably preceded by the block books known as the _Apocalypse of St. John_, the _Cantico Canticorum_, and the _Ars Memorandi_.]

[Footnote 34: This was Raoul le Fevre's _Recueil des Histoires de Troye_, a fanciful compilation of adventures, in which the heroes of antiquity perform the parts of the _preux chevaliers_ of the middle ages. It was "ended in the Holy City of Colen," in September, 1471. The first book printed by him in England was _The Game and Playe of the Chesse_, in March, 1474. It is a fanciful moralization of the game, abounding with quaint old legends and stories.]

[Footnote 35: Robert Stephens was the most celebrated of a family renowned through several generations in the history of printing. The first of the dynasty, Henry Estienne, who, in the spirit of the age, latinized his name, was born in Paris, in 1470, and commenced printing there at the beginning of the sixteenth century. His three sons--Francis, Robert, and Charles--were all renowned printers and scholars; Robert the most celebrated for the correctness and beauty of his work. His Latin Bible of 1532 made for him a great reputation; and he was appointed printer to Francis I. A new edition of his Bible, in 1545, brought him into trouble with the formidable doctors of the Sorbonne, and he ultimately left Paris for Geneva, where he set up a printing-office, which soon became famous. He died in 1559. He was the author of some learned works, and a printer whose labours in the "n.o.ble art" have never been excelled. He left two sons--Henry and Robert--also remarkable as learned printers; and they both had sons who followed the same pursuits. There is not one of this large family without honourable recognition for labour and knowledge, and in their wives and daughters they found learned a.s.sistants. Chalmers says--"They were at once the ornament and reproach of the age in which they lived. They were all men of great learning, all extensive benefactors to literature, and all persecuted or unfortunate."]

[Footnote 36: Plantin's office is still existing in Antwerp, and is one of the most interesting places in that interesting city. It is so carefully preserved, that its quadrangle was a.s.signed to the soldiery in the last great revolution, to prevent any hostile incursion and damage.

It is a lonely building, in which the old office, with its presses and printing material, still remains as when deserted by the last workman.

The sheets of the last books printed there are still lying on the tables; and in the presses and drawers are hundreds of the woodcuts and copperplates used by Plantin for the books that made his office renowned throughout Europe. In the quadrangle are busts of himself and his successors, the Morels, and the scholars who were connected with them.

Plantin's own room seems to want only his presence to perfect the scene.

The furniture and fittings, the quaint decoration, leads the imagination insensibly back to the days of Charles V.]

ERRATA.

Besides the ordinary _errata_, which happen in printing a work, others have been purposely committed, that the _errata_ may contain what is not permitted to appear in the body of the work. Wherever the Inquisition had any power, particularly at Rome, it was not allowed to employ the word _fatum_, or _fata_, in any book. An author, desirous of using the latter word, adroitly invented this scheme; he had printed in his book _facta_, and, in the _errata_, he put, "For _facta_, read _fata_."

Scarron has done the same thing on another occasion. He had composed some verses, at the head of which he placed this dedication--_A Guillemette, Chienne de ma Soeur_; but having a quarrel with his sister, he maliciously put into the _errata_, "Instead of _Chienne de ma Soeur_, read _ma Chienne de Soeur_."

Lully, at the close of a bad prologue said, the word _fin du prologue_ was an _erratum_, it should have been _fi du prologue_!

In a book, there was printed, _le docte Morel_. A wag put into the _errata_, "For _le docte Morel_, read _le Docteur Morel_." This _Morel_ was not the first _docteur_ not _docte_.

When a fanatic published a mystical work full of unintelligible raptures, and which he ent.i.tled _Les Delices de l'Esprit_, it was proposed to print in his errata, "For _Delices_ read _Delires_."

The author of an idle and imperfect book ended with the usual phrase of _cetera desiderantur_, one altered it, _Non desiderantur sed desunt_; "The rest is _wanting_, but not _wanted_."