Emily C. Pearson

The Zum Jungen.—The Old Valet.—A Happy Change.—Going over the Process anew.—Type of Lead.—Peter Schoeffer.

The Zum Jungen, that famous old house on the Rhine, was engaged; the articles of agreement duly drawn up and signed. Faust advanced 2,020 florins, taking a mortgage of Gutenberg’s printing materials as security; and the firm, having removed their families to the building, commenced operations in the printing rooms. Hanau, the valet of the elder Gutenberg, was especially serviceable in the removal, and was soon installed as a faithful helper in the office.

“What think you of this?” said Gutenberg to Anna one morning, soon after the settlement in their new quarters, as they stood on the balcony that overlooked the river.

“O, it is so beautiful!” she replied. “Never will I tire of this scenery. There; do you see those swallows sitting so still upon their nests under the roofs? Now one flies off zigzag to the ground, after a worm; now she bears it back, perches upon her nest, and chippers with her little ones as they eat their breakfast. Hear them chatter! Then how fragrant the flowers! How pretty the hills, clad in vineyards! I feel at home already, and I mean to be happy, and let no foreboding trouble me. I do not yet ride in a coach, and dine like a queen, but my home is in a palace. How good it was in Faust to advance money! What a difference it makes in our circumstances!”

“Besides, how it affects my art!” returned Gutenberg. “How could I prosper without it? And, Anna, we do well to remember that there has been providential interposition in our affairs. We must acknowledge it if we would be directed. Think of the long trial we have had, and of our deliverer.”

“It does seem like a miracle. But how canst thou ever make new types and presses like those which were destroyed at Strasbourg?”

“Trust me I shall not be long of doing that,” answered Gutenberg. “I am encouraged. The prospect was dark until my arrangement with Faust; but we shall do well enough, now that abundant means are provided.”

At first the firm was occupied with some of the block books which had been issued at Strasbourg. Among these were the “Absies,” or alphabetical tables, the “Doctrinale,” and a manual of grammar, or “Donatus.”

The work did indeed go prosperously forward. Gutenberg, Faust, Hanau, and Martin Duttlinger,—the last named a Cathedral scholar who had assisted in printing at Dritzhn’s shop,—were occupied from early in the morning till late at night in cutting type and setting it up. Faust had also occasionally some of his workmen—a Hamburgher among them—in the printing hall. They wrought in two well-lighted, convenient rooms in the second story,—so surrounded by other rooms as not to be accessible to strangers,—which apartments they kept constantly locked.

Step by step, the company went through in a few months what caused Gutenberg years of experimenting, as we in a few hours can read a book which cost the author the study of a life. Not that they really mastered everything as did their teacher. That which he himself elaborated, was indeed a part of his mind, his inventions being his thoughts embodied. Hence the propriety of giving him so prominent a place in this volume. The art cannot be fittingly portrayed without sketching its originator. Like soul and body, they belong together; it is impossible to picture one without the other.

To describe the process by which Gutenberg taught his art, would be to repeat the progress of the Strasbourg firm, save that the Mentz printers were more hopeful, earnest, and intelligent, and did not so easily yield to obstacles; and also the difference that they were immediately advanced to movable type.

“We are making fine headway,” said Faust to Gutenberg, when the works referred to had been printed.

“Yes, but we sadly need a designer for our engravings. How I miss my Andreas Dritzhn, of happy memory, who did excellent service in this line at Strasbourg.”

“Cannot some one be found to fill his place?”

“I know of only one man that would do,” replied Gutenberg, “and that is young Peter Schoeffer, a teacher of penmanship, now residing in Paris. I must send him word to join us.”

As the printing went on, Gutenberg encountered the old difficulty of the softening of the type, and, on being questioned by Faust respecting it, set his ingenious mind to work to remedy it.

Turning to a drawer of odds and ends, and taking out some bits of metal, he said, “Suppose we make our type of lead!” Faust took up a strip, and, commencing a rude letter on the end of it, said, “This will do, assuredly. It is hard, and yet we can cut it, and it will not become soft, as does wood, by absorbing ink.” “We can at least test it,” said Gutenberg. “If it should not prove to be just what we need, it may suggest something useful. My progress has been made by a series of experiments; and because we fail once, is no reason for discouragement. We have only to try until we succeed.”

Faust’s letter gave him much satisfaction. “We have discovered the right thing for our type!” said he, after making an impression with it. He then strode up and down the room, now looking at this form, now that, then stopping to dab the leather ink-balls on the type, then taking up a manuscript, and generally making himself at home in the printing-office. Since he had become a partner and patron, his manner had grown pompous and somewhat lordly. Although a mere novice in the new art, he was fully sensible of the honor he conferred on the firm in associating himself with it, and very naturally assumed a general oversight. The inventor saw the infirmities of his friend, but forebore remark. He was both discerning and patient.

One afternoon, some weeks later, as a shower was rising, Anna sat by her window, alternately sewing and watching the clouds as they gathered in dark columns and overspread the sky. The brown sparrows that frequented the roof of the Zum Jungen, chattered as the large drops fell, perching upon the tiles and laughing at the rain. Just then who should be coming up the street but Gutenberg and Peter Schoeffer, in earnest discourse, seeming to heed the weather as little as did the birds. Gutenberg had opened his heart to Schoeffer as to an old friend; he felt confidence in doing so, for Schoeffer had proved himself estimable and trusty when in his employ at Strasbourg. As they came nearer and entered the house, Anna heard Gutenberg say, “Canst thou tell me, Master Schoeffer, now that we are on my art, what is the most notable and important book in the world?”

“I do not consider myself learned enough to answer that question,” answered Schoeffer, after a pause. “The scribes who spend their lives in making libraries should know.”

“That is true,” was the reply. “But, judging from the works which you have seen, which is the most celebrated and useful?”

“I recollect,” replied Peter Schoeffer, “when I was in the Cathedral school, that Father Melchoir showed us the Gothic Gospels, or Silver Book, and remarked that more art and expense had been spent on the Bible than on any other book. From this I must infer that in the opinion of the wise, it is the most useful and important book in existence.”

“Right,” replied the inventor; “more time has been spent in copying the Bible than any other book, and justly; for the Word of God is before all human productions.”

“But is not the Breviary made more prominent by our priests?”

“Although in more common use, you will notice that it is not generally so highly ornamented and so costly as the Bible. This last is the foundation of the Prayer-book, as also of the institutions of our religion. Whatever we enjoy of Christianity and civilization is due to that sacred Book. Hence it is of all others the most to be prized and preserved. There are, however, comparatively few copies of it in the world,—only two or three thousand, it is said, and these mostly hoarded in monasteries, universities, and royal libraries. Suppose now, that in the conflict of nations, evil should befall the depositories of the sacred Book, and, through some devastation or edict, the Bible be lost to us. Moreover, the Holy Book is sold to kings when they can afford to pay six hundred crowns for it; if they may have the Bible, why may not their subjects? My purpose is to print a Bible in the best style of my art, and multiply copies of it. I shall need in this work a skillful engraver of letters.”

“But what an undertaking, to print the entire Bible!” said Schoeffer.

“Yea, a stupendous work!” was the answer, “and it will take years to accomplish it; hence I am the more anxious to begin. Can I not depend on thy aid?”

Peter Schoeffer had assisted Gutenberg in Strasbourg, and admired him, and now was only too happy to accede to his request, and take charge of designing letters for engraving.

Thus early in the history of his invention did Gutenberg conceive the project of printing the Bible; consecrating his art to the honor of God, and the welfare of his fellow-men. Well does Mr. Hallam say, “It is a very striking circumstance, that the high-minded inventors of this great art tried at the outset so bold a flight as the printing an entire Bible.”