CURIOSITIES OF LITERATURE.

Origin of the Materials of Writing.—The most ancient mode of writing was on bricks, and on tables of stone; afterwards on plates of various materials, on ivory, on the bark of trees, and on their leaves.

Specimens of most of these modes of writing may be seen in the British Museum. No. 3478, in the Sloanian library, is a Nabob’s letter, on a piece of bark about two yards long, and richly ornamented with gold. No. 3207, is a book of Mexican hieroglyphics, painted on bark. In the same collection are various species, many from the Malabar coast, and other parts of the East. The latter writings are chiefly on leaves. The prophecies of the Sibyls were on leaves. There are several copies of Bibles written on palm-leaves, still preserved in various collections in Europe. The ancients, doubtless, wrote on any leaves they found adapted for the purpose. Hence the leaf of a book, as well as that of a tree, is derived.

In the book of Job, mention is made of writing on stone, and on sheets of lead. The law of Moses was written on stone. Hesiod’s works were written on leaden tables; lead was used for writing, and rolled up like a cylinder, as Pliny states. The laws of the Greeks were engraven on bronze tables. In the shepherd state, they wrote their songs with thorns and awls, on leather. The Icelanders wrote on walls; and Olaf, according to one of the sagas, built a large house, on the balks and spars of which he had engraven the history of his own and more ancient times; while another northern hero appears to have had nothing better than his own chair and bed, on which to perpetuate his own heroic acts. The Arabs took the shoulder-bones of sheep, on which they carved remarkable events with a knife, and after tying them with a string, they hung these chronicles up in their cabinets.

These early inventions led to the discovery of tablets of wood; and as cedar is incorruptible, from its bitterness, they chose this wood for cases or chests to preserve their most important writings. From this custom arises the celebrated expression of the ancients, when they meant to give the highest eulogium of an excellent work, et cedro digna locuti; that it was worthy to be written on cedar. These tablets were made of the trunks of trees; the use of them still exists, but in general they are made of other materials than wood. The same reason which led them to prefer the cedar to other trees, induced them to write on wax, which is incorruptible from its nature. Men generally used it to write their testaments, in order the better to preserve them: thus Juvenal says, Ceras implere capaces. This thin paste of wax was also spread on tablets of wood, that it might more easily admit of erasure.

They wrote with an iron bodkin, as they did on the other substances we have noticed. The stylus was made sharp at one end to write with, and blunt and broad at the other, to deface and correct easily; hence the phrase vertere stylum, to turn the stylus, was used to express blotting out. But the Romans forbade the use of this sharp instrument, from the circumstance of many persons having used them as daggers. A schoolmaster was killed by the pugillares, or table-book, and the styles of his own scholars. They substituted a stylus made of the bone of a bird, or other animal, so that their writings resembled engravings. When they wrote on softer materials, they employed reeds and canes, split like our pens at the points, which the Orientalists still use to lay their colour or ink neater on the paper.

By the word pen in the translation of the Bible, we are to understand an iron style. Table-books of ivory are still used for memoranda, written by black-lead pencils. The Romans used ivory to write the edicts of the senate on; and the expression of libris elephantinis, which, some authors imagine, alludes to books which for their size were called elephantine, others more rationally conclude, were composed of ivory, the tusk of the elephant.

Pumice was likewise a writing material of the ancients, which they used to smooth the roughness of the parchment, or to sharpen their reeds.

In the progress of time, the art of writing consisted in painting with different kinds of ink. This novel mode of writing occasioned them to invent other materials proper to receive their writing. They now chose the thin bark of certain trees and plants; they wrote on linen, and at length, when this was found apt to become mouldy, they prepared the skins of animals. Those of asses are still in use; and on those of serpents, &c. were once written the Iliad and Odyssey. The first place where they began to dress these skins was Pergamus, in Asia; whence the Latin name is derived of PergamenÆ, or parchment. These skins are, however, better known amongst the authors of the purest Latin, under the name of membrana, so called from the membranes of animals of which they were composed. The ancients had parchments of three different colours, white, yellow, and purple. At Rome, white parchment was disliked, because it was more subject to be soiled than the others, and dazzled the eye. They generally wrote letters of gold and silver on purple or violet parchment. This custom continued in the early ages of the church; and copies of the Evangelists of this kind are preserved in the British Museum.

When the Egyptians employed for writing the bark of a plant or reed, called papyrus,[24] or paper-rush, it superseded all former modes, because this was the most convenient. Formerly there grew great quantities of it on the sides of the Nile. It is this plant which has given the name to our paper, although the latter is composed of linen or rags. After the eighth century the papyrus was superseded by parchment. The Chinese make their paper with silk. The use of paper is of great antiquity; it is what the ancient Latinists call charta, or chartÆ. Before the use of parchment and paper passed to the Romans, they contrived to use the thin peel which was found on trees, between the wood of these trees and their bark. This second skin they called liber, whence the Latin word liber, a book, and library and librarian, in the European languages, and the French livre for book; but we of northern origin derive our book from the Danish bog, the beech-tree, because that being the most plentiful in Denmark, was used to engrave on. Anciently, instead of folding this bark, this parchment, or paper, as we fold ours, they rolled it according as they wrote on it; and the Latin name which they gave these rolls has passed into our language as well as the others. We say a volume or volumes, although our books are composed of pages cut and bound together. The books of the ancients on the shelves of their libraries, were rolled up on a pin, and placed erect, titled on the outside in red letters, or rubrics, and appeared like a number of small pillars on the shelves.

Curious information respecting small, or Minute Writing.—The Iliad of Homer in a nut-shell, which Pliny says that Cicero once saw, it is pretended might have been a fact, however to some it may appear impossible. Ælian notices an artist who wrote a distich in letters of gold, which he inclosed in the rind of a grain of corn.

Antiquity, and modern times, have recorded many penmen, whose glory consisted in writing so small a hand, that it could not be legible to the naked eye. One wrote a verse of Homer on a grain of millet; and another, more indefatigably industrious in this important trifling, is said by Menage to have written whole sentences which were not perceptible to the eye without the microscope: pictures and portraits, also, appeared at first to be lines and scratches thrown down at random; one of these formed the face of the Dauphiness, with the most pleasing delicacy and correct resemblance. He read an Italian poem in praise of this princess, containing some thousands of verses, written by an officer, in the space of a foot and a half. This species of curious idleness has not been lost in our own country: about a century ago, this minute writing was a fashionable curiosity. A drawing of the head of Charles I. is in the library of St. John’s college, at Oxford. It is wholly composed of minute written characters, which at a small distance resemble the lines of engraving. The lines of the head and ruff, are said to contain the book of Psalms, the Creed, and the Lord’s Prayer. In the British Museum we find a drawing representing the portrait of Queen Anne, not much above the size of the hand. On this drawing appear a number of lines and scratches, which, the librarian assures the marvelling spectator, includes the entire contents of a thin folio volume, that on this occasion is carried in the hand, as if to vouch for the truth of a statement so liable to be received with hesitation.

On this subject it may be worth noticing, that the learned Huet asserts that he, like the rest of the world, for a long time considered as a fiction the story of that industrious writer, who is said to have inclosed the Iliad in a nut-shell. But having examined the matter more closely, he thought it possible. One day, in company at the Dauphin’s, this learned man trifled half a hour in proving it. A piece of vellum, about ten inches in length and eight in width, pliant and firm, can be folded up and enclosed in the shell of a large walnut. It can hold in its breadth one line, which can contain 30 verses, and in its length 250 lines. With a crow-quill the writing can be perfect. A page of this vellum will then contain 7500 verses, and the reverse as much; the whole 15,000 verses of the Iliad. And this he proved in their presence, by using a piece of paper, and with a common pen. The thing is possible to be effected; and if some occasion should happen, when paper is excessively rare, it may be useful to know, that a volume of matter may be contained in a very small space.

We submit the following curious particulars respecting the Titles of Books.—The Jewish, and many Oriental authors, were fond of allegorical titles, which always shews the most puerile age of taste. The titles were usually adapted to their obscure works. It might exercise an able enigmatist to explain their allusions; for we must understand by “The Heart of Aaron,” a commentary on several of the prophets. “The Bones of Joseph” is an introduction to the Talmud. “The Garden of Nuts,” and “The Golden Apples,” are theological questions, and “The Pomegranate with its Flower,” is a treatise of ceremonies no longer practised. Jortin gives a title, which he says, of all the fantastical titles he can recollect, is one of the prettiest. A Rabbin published a catalogue of Rabbinical writers, and called it Labia Dormientium, from Cantic. vii. 9. “Like the best wine of my beloved, that goeth down sweetly, causing the lips of those that are asleep to speak.” It has a double meaning, of which he was not aware, for most of his Rabbinical brethren talk very much like men in their sleep.

Almost all their works bear such titles as, Bread, Gold, Silver, Roses, Eyes, &c.; in a word, any thing that meant nothing.

Affected title-pages were not peculiar to the Orientalists; but the Greeks and the Romans have shewn a finer taste. They had their Cornucopias, or horns of abundance; Limones, or meadows; Pinakidions, or tablets; Pancarpes, or all sorts of fruits: titles not unhappily adapted for the miscellanists. The nine books of Herodotus, and the nine epistles of Æschines, were respectively honoured by the name of a Muse; and three orations of the latter, by those of the Graces.

The modern fanatics have had a most barbarous taste for titles. We could produce numbers from abroad, and also at home. Some works have been called, “Matches Lighted at the Divine Fire,” and one “The Gun of Penitence:” a collection of passages from the Fathers, is called, “The Shop of the Spiritual Apothecary:” we have “The Bank of Faith,” and “The Sixpennyworth of Divine Spirit:” one of these works bears the following elaborate one; “Some fine Baskets baked in the Oven of Charity, carefully conserved for the Chickens of the Church, the Sparrows of the Spirit, and the sweet Swallows of Salvation.” Sometimes their quaintness has some humour. One Sir Humphrey Lind, a zealous puritan, published a work, which a Jesuit answered by another, entitled, “A Pair of Spectacles for Sir Humphrey Lind.” The doughty knight retorted, by “A Case for Sir Humphrey Lind’s Spectacles.”Some of these obscure titles have an entertaining absurdity; as, “The Three Daughters of Job,” which is a treatise on the three virtues of patience, fortitude, and pain. “The Innocent Love, or the Holy Knight,” is a description of the ardours of a saint for the Virgin. “The Sound of the Trumpet,” is a work on the day of judgment; and “A Fan to drive away Flies,” is a theological treatise on purgatory.

The title which George Gascoigne, who had great merit in his day, has given to his collection, may be considered as a specimen of the titles of his times. It was printed in 1576. He calls it “A hundred sundrie Floures bounde up in one small Poesie; gathered partly by translation in the fyne and outlandish gardens of Euripides, Ovid, Petrarche, Ariosto, and others; and partly by invention out of our own fruitefull orchardes in Englande; yielding sundrie sweet savours of tragicall, comicall, and morall discourses, both pleasaunt and profitable to the well-swelling noses of learned readers.”

Literary Labour and Perseverance.—The Rev. William Davy, curate of Lustleigh, Devon, in the year 1807, finished a work in twenty-six volumes, of which the following is the title:—

“A System of Divinity, in a Course of Sermons on the first Institutions of Religion—on the Being and Attributes of God—on some of the most important Articles of the Christian Religion, in Connection—and on the several Virtues and Vices of Mankind; with Occasional Discourses. Being a Compilation of the best Sentiments of the Polite Writers and eminent sound Divines, both ancient and modern, on the same subjects, properly connected, with Improvements; particularly adapted for the Use of Chief Families, and Students in Divinity, for Churches, and for the Benefit of Mankind in general.”

The author of the work bearing this astounding title, once attempted to publish it by subscription; in which he failed: he being poor, and unable to venture its publication, resolved to print it himself; for which purpose he procured as many worn-out types from a country printing-office as enabled him to print two pages at once; which, with the addition of a press of his own manufacture, he set to work in the year 1795, serving every office himself, from compositor to printer’s-devil; and proceeding regularly page by page, he struck off forty copies of the first three hundred pages, half of which he distributed among the reviews, the bishops, and the universities, with a view of attracting public attention; but here also he failed: when he became determined to treat a misjudging world with contempt, and accordingly continued to print off fourteen copies of each, and at the end of twelve years finished the whole six-and-twenty volumes.

Curious account of the Scarcity of Books—Of the scarcity and value of books during the seventh and many subsequent centuries, the following curious account is given by Mr. Warton, in his History of English Poetry, vol. i. “Towards the close of the seventh century, (says he,) even in the papal library at Rome, the number of books was so inconsiderable, that pope St. Martin requested Sanctamand, bishop of Maestricht, if possible, to supply this defect from the remotest parts of Germany. In 855, Lupus, abbot of Ferriers, in France, sent two of his monks to pope Benedict III. to beg a copy of Cicero de Oratore, and Quintilian’s Institutes, and some other books: ‘for (says the abbot) although we have part of these books, yet there is no whole or complete copy of them in all France.’ Albert, abbot of Gemblours, who with incredible labour and immense expense had collected one hundred volumes on theological, and fifty on profane subjects, imagined he had formed a splendid library. About A. D. 790, Charlemagne granted an unlimited right of hunting, to the abbot and monks of Sithin, for making covers for their books of the skins of the deer they killed. These religious were probably more fond of hunting than reading; and, under these circumstances, did not manufacture many volumes. At the beginning of the tenth century, books were so scarce in Spain, that one copy of the Bible, St. Jerome’s epistles, and some volumes of ecclesiastical offices and martyrologies, often served several different monasteries. In an inventory of the goods of John de Pontissara, bishop of Winchester, in his palace of Wulvesey, all the books are only septemdecim speciem librorum de diversis scientiis. This was in 1294. The same prelate, in 1299, borrows of his cathedral convent of St. Swithin, at Winchester, Bibliam bene glossatam; i. e. the Bible with marginal annotations, in two large folio volumes; but gives a bond for due return of the loan, drawn up with great solemnity. This Bible had been bequeathed to the convent by Pontissara’s predecessor, bishop Nicholas de Ely: and in consideration of so important a bequest, pro bona Biblia dicti episcopi bene glossata, and one hundred marks in money, the monks founded a daily mass for the soul of the donor. When a single book was bequeathed to a friend, it was seldom without many restrictions. If any person gave a book to a religious house, he believed that so valuable a donation merited eternal salvation; and he offered it on the altar with great ceremony. The most formidable anathemas were peremptorily denounced against those who should dare to alienate a book presented to the cloister, or library of a religious house. The prior and convent of Rochester declare, that they will every year pronounce the irrevocable sentence of damnation on him who shall purloin or conceal a Latin translation of Aristotle’s Physics, or even obliterate the title. Sometimes a book was given to a monastery, on condition that the donor should have the use of it during his life; and sometimes to a private person, on the terms that he who received it should pray for the soul of his benefactor. When a book was bought, the affair was of so much importance, that it was customary to assemble persons of consequence and character, and to make a formal record that they were present.”

Among the royal manuscripts in the book of the Sentences of Peter Lombard, an archdeacon of Lincoln has left this entry: “This book of the Sentences belongs to master Robert, archdeacon of Lincoln, which he bought of Geoffrey the chaplain, brother of Henry, vicar of Northelkington, in the presence of master Robert de Lee, master John of Lirling, Richard of Luda, clerk, Richard the almoner, the said Henry the vicar, and his clerk, and others: and the said archdeacon gave the said book to God and St. Oswald, and to Peter abbot of Barton, and the convent of Barden.” The disputed property of a book often occasioned the most violent altercations. Many claims appear to have been made to a manuscript of Matthew Paris, belonging to the last mentioned library; in which John Russel, bishop of Lincoln, conditionally defends or explains his right of possession; and concludes thus, A. D. 1488, “Whoever shall obliterate or destroy this writing, let him be anathema.”

About 1225, Roger de Insula, dean of York, gave several Latin Bibles to the university of Oxford, on the condition, that the students who perused them should deposit a cautionary pledge. The library of that university, before A. D. 1300, consisted only of a few tracts, chained or kept in chests in the choir of St. Mary’s church. In 1327, the scholars and citizens of Oxford pillaged the opulent Benedictine abbey of the neighbouring town of Abingdon. Among the books they found there, were one hundred psalters, as many grayles, forty missals, which undoubtedly belonged to the choir of the church, and twenty-two codices, on common subjects. And although the invention of paper, at the close of the eleventh century, contributed to multiply manuscripts, and consequently to facilitate knowledge, yet, even so late as the reign of Henry VI. the following remarkable instance occurred of the inconveniences and impediments to study, which must have been produced by a scarcity of books. It is in the statutes of St. Mary’s college at Oxford, founded as a seminary to Oseney abbey, in 1446: “Let no scholar occupy a book in the library above one hour, or two hours at most; so that others shall not be hindered from the use of the same!” The famous library established in the university of Oxford, by that munificent patron of literature, Humphrey duke of Gloucester, contained only six hundred volumes. About the commencement of the fourteenth century, there were only four classics in the royal library at Paris. There was one copy of Cicero, Ovid, Lucan, and Boetius. The rest were chiefly books of devotion, which included but few of the Fathers: many treatises of astrology, geomancy, chiromancy, and medicine, originally written in Arabic, and translated into Latin or French: pandects, chronicles, and romances. This collection was principally made by Charles V. who began his reign in 1365. This monarch was passionately fond of reading; and it was the fashion to send him presents of books from every part of the kingdom of France. These he ordered to be elegantly transcribed, and richly illuminated; and he placed them in a tower of the Louvre, from thence called La Toure de la Libraire. The whole consisted of nine hundred volumes. They were deposited in three chambers, wainscoted with Irish oak, and ceiled with cypress curiously carved. The windows were of painted glass, fenced with iron bars and copper wire. The English became masters of Paris in the year 1425; on which event the Duke of Bedford, regent of France, sent the whole library, then consisting of only eight hundred and fifty-three volumes, and valued at 2223 livres, into England; where perhaps they became the groundwork of Duke Humphrey’s library. Even so late as the year 1471, when Louis XI. of France borrowed the works of the Arabian physician, Rhasis, from the faculty of medicine at Paris, he not only deposited by way of pledge a quantity of valuable plate, but was obliged to procure a nobleman to join with him as a surety in a deed, by which he bound himself to return it, under a considerable forfeiture. The excessive prices of books in the middle ages afford numerous and curious proofs of the caution with which literary property was secured in those times of general ignorance.

In 1174, Walter, prior of St. Swithin’s at Winchester, a writer in Latin of the lives of the bishops who were his patrons, purchased of the monks of Dorchester, in Oxfordshire, Bede’s Homilies and St. Austin’s Psalter, for twelve measures of barley, and a pall, on which was richly embroidered in silver the history of St. Birinus converting a Saxon king. Among the royal manuscripts in the British Museum, there is Comestor’s Scholastic History in French; which, as it is recorded in a blank page at the beginning, was taken from the king of France at the battle of Poictiers; and being purchased by William Montague, Earl of Salisbury, for 100 marcs, was ordered to be sold by the last will of his countess, Elizabeth, for 40 livres. About A. D. 1400, a copy of John of Meun’s Romance de la Rose, was sold before the palace gate at Paris for a sum equal to £33. 6s. 6d.

Celebrated Libraries.—The first who erected a library at Athens was the tyrant Pisistratus. This was transported by Xerxes into Persia, and afterwards brought back by Seleucus Nicanor to Athens. Plutarch says, that under Eumenes there was a library at Pergamus which contained two hundred thousand books. That of Ptolemy Philadelphus, according to A. Gellius, contained forty thousand, which were all burnt by CÆsar’s soldiers. The celebrated library of Alexandria, begun by Ptolemy Soter, and enlarged by his successors, consisting of seven hundred thousand volumes, contained nearly all the literary treasures of the world. This was burnt by order of the Caliph Omar, in the seventh century, and the loss must for ever remain irreparable. On this calamity, literature can never reflect without a sigh. Constantine and his successor erected a magnificent one at Constantinople, which in the eighth century contained three hundred thousand volumes, and among the rest, one in which the Iliad and Odyssey were written in letters of gold, on the entrails of a serpent; but this library was burnt, by order of Leo Isaurus. The most celebrated libraries of ancient Rome, were the Ulpian and the Palatine; and in modern Rome, that of the Vatican, the foundation of which was laid by Pope Nicholas in the year 1450. It was afterwards diminished in the sacking of Rome by the constable of Bourbon, and restored by Pope Sixtus V. and has been considerably enriched with the ruins of that of Heidelberg, plundered by count Tilly in 1682. One of the most complete libraries in Europe, was that erected by Cosmo de Medicis; though it was afterwards exceeded by that of the French king, which was begun by Francis I. augmented by cardinal Richelieu, and completed by M. Colbert. The emperor’s library at Vienna, according to Lambecius, consists of eighty thousand volumes, and fifteen thousand nine hundred and forty curious medals. The Bodleian library at Oxford exceeds that of any university in Europe, and even those of any of the sovereigns, except those of the emperors of France and Germany, which are each of them older by a hundred years. It was first opened in 1602, and has since been increased by a great number of benefactors: indeed the Medicean library, that of Bessarion at Venice, and those just mentioned, exceed it in Greek manuscripts, but it outdoes them all in Oriental manuscripts; and as to printed books, the Ambrosian at Milan, and that of Wolfenbuttle, are two of the most famous libraries on the continent, and yet both are considerably inferior to the Bodleian. The Cottonian library consists wholly of manuscripts, particularly of such as relate to the history and antiquities of England; which, as they are now bound, make about one thousand volumes.

Book of Blunders.—One of the most egregious, shall we add illustrious, of all literary blunders, is that of the edition of the Vulgate, by Sixtus V. His holiness carefully superintended every sheet as it passed through the press; and, to the amazement of the world, the work remained without a rival—it swarmed with errata! A multitude of scraps were printed, to paste over the erroneous passages, in order to give the true text. The book makes a whimsical appearance with these pasted corrections; and the heretics exulted in the demonstration of papal infallibility! The copies were called in, and violent attempts made to suppress it; however, a few still remain for the pursuit of biblical collectors: at a late sale, the Bible of Sixtus V. fetched above sixty guineas—a tolerable sum for a mere book of blunders! The world was highly amused at the bull of the Pope and editor prefixed to the first volume, which excommunicates all printers, &c. who in reprinting the work should make any alteration in the text!

Curious account of The Means of Intellectual Improvement in London.—The following is an estimate made of the means of intellectual improvement in London. There are four hundred and seven places of public worship; four thousand and fifty seminaries for education, including two hundred and thirty-seven parish charity schools; eight societies for the express purpose of promoting good morals; twelve societies for promoting the learned, the useful, and the polite arts; one hundred and twenty-two asylums and alms-houses for the helpless and indigent, including the Philanthropic Society for reclaiming criminal children; thirty hospitals and dispensaries for sick and lame, and for the delivery of poor pregnant women; seven hundred friendly or benefit societies; about thirty institutions for charitable and humane purposes; about thirty institutions for teaching some thousands of poor children the arts of reading, writing, and arithmetic, on the plans of Mr. Lancaster and Dr. Bell; and these several establishments, including the poor’s rate, are supported at the almost incredible cost of one million per annum.