Production and Prices, It is assumed that until the invention of printing, books were of excessive rarity and costliness. This is mostly true of the Middle Ages, when the only trained chirographers were in the monasteries — working at free will and leisure and caring solely for quality, and with the express object of making the books costly. It was not so, however, in classic times, owing to that so ciety being based on skilled slave labor. From this cause, the greatest extremes of price pre vailed side by side, extreme cheapness and almost incredible dearness. When but few copies of a book were made, either by an author of slender means or by a wealthy amateur to give to friends, they were either given away, or if sold might command any price an unexpected favor of a rich man s fancy dictated; and from the same cause "unique copies"— most likely such were the three books of Philolaus the Pythagorean, for which the not rich Plato paid about $1,600, and the few books of the philosopher Speusip pus for which Aristotle paid three Attic talents or some $3,500— were much com moner than now. On the other hand, Anaxag oras' works could be had for a drachma (about 18 cents) even when dear—a thing the more strange that two pieces of papyrus for copying an account cost in 407 s.c. 2 drachmae 4 oboli, or about 45 cents. Perhaps there was a difference in the paper.. In this same year a diptychon, or pair of wooden account tablets (passbook), cost a drachma; but in Demosthenes' time, three quarters of a century later, one (probably smaller) cost only two chalci ("coppers"), less than a cent. All these contradictions are probably due to the lack of any regular publishing market.
The long agonies of dissolution of the Roman empire annihilated the book trade; and for centuries the only makers of books were the monk scribes, in whom the import ant conditions of skill, leisure, love and patience were all fulfilled. Learning had be come the exclusive privilege of a class, a privilege of which they were at once proud and jealous; and they. surrounded the means of its acquisition with a pomp and circum stance that precluded the multitude from familiarity with it. In the earliest times books had received the adorning aid of ornamental art; but in the Middle Ages they reached the acme, if not of beauty and convenience, at least of cost. The favored works of the time, principally of the Christian writers, were laboriously transcribed by patient penmen, in scriptoria liberally maintained in the monas teries, and specially devoted to that purpose. In the process of preparation their books re ceived the most careful attention in regard to accuracy, elegance and solidity. In the monasteries also the work was completed; for not only were the monks transcribers, illu minators and binders, but the same individual frequently combined the triple function in his own person. From the hands of the scribe, whose solemn' adjuration at the conclusion of his task was evidence not only of his own care but of his desire that others should imitate his example, the book passed to the illuminator, whose gorgeous colors still de light the bibliophile; and from him to the binder, by whom its ponderous. proportions were encased in massive covers of wood and leather, studded with knobs and bands, often of gold and silver, and closed with broad clasps — to unfasten which, letting the covers swing open on their stout hinges, was a privilege to which not every one was per mitted to aspire. For, as said Richard De Bury, "laymen, to whom it matters not whether they look at a book turned wrong side upward or spread before them in its natural order, are altogether unworthy of any communion with books." Precious metals and the less crude but equally costly productions of art contributed to swell their value, in re spect of which they stood at times on an equality with houses and lands. When pub
licly exposed, they were frequently secured by chains; they were protected by special statutes; were subjects of grave negotiation; solemnly bequeathed by will, and lent only to the higher orders, who were compelled to deposit ample pledges for their return. Even so late as 1471, Louis XI was compelled by the faculty of medicine at Paris to deposit a valuable security, and give a responsible en dorser, in order to obtain the loan of the works of Rhasis, an Arabian physician. In stances of the immense prices of special books are familiar, as of King Alfred's giving eight hides (perhaps 500 acres) of land for one book, but England was well-nigh bookless then; of the Countess of Anjou giving 200 sheep and other articles for a book of homilies of a bishop — an enthusiastic lady might do so if she liked the bishop; and of other fancy prices for very fine books, not however more than modern collectors might for superb copies. The form in these cases often counted for more than the matter, just as now. On the other hand, in 1431, shortly before the invention of printing, Peter Lombard's works sold at Caen for seven francs, or $1.30, prob ably equal to about $10 now; but he was the most popular and widely circulated author in the Christian world before Thomas it Kempis, and it was to the interest of the Church to multiply his works. Making all allowances, books were very scarce and costly.
Arrangement of a The first page or recto of the first leaf or `folio' is techni cally known as a bastard or half-title page; the next page or verso of the first folio is left blank. (The term ofolio,D however, as usually employed by printers, means simply page num ber). Then follows the title-page proper, usually with a blank page at the back. In many books there intervene a preface or introduction, a dedication and a table of con tents, before the main body of the book be gins; the table of contents is sometimes be fore and sometimes after the introduction and preface. If any portion of the book is out of place, there are two ways by which the true order may be discovered. At the outer corner, or in the centre above the reading matter, or in pages with a chapter heading usually in the centre at the bottom of the page, is a numeral either Arabic or Roman-1, 2, 3, or i, iii; the almost universal custom now is to use the Roman numerals for prefaces and introduc tions, and the Arabic for the body of the text, and in catalogues these are indicated thus: pp. xxxvii, 325—that is, 37 pages introduction paged with Roman letters, and 325 of text paged with Arabic. As a guide to the bind ers in gathering the sheets, also each as printed on the press—the number of pages printed on one sheet, to be folded and cut later into the proper order of reading—has at the bottom of its first page a number or letter in sequence through the book; that is, if each sheet as printed has eight pages on it, then pages 1, 9, 17, etc.,— the outside sheet of each form, which lies on top and visible when the sheet is folded,— will have the numbers 1, 2, 3, etc., or the letters A, B, C, etc., called °signa tures," to show the binder in what order the folded sheets are to be assembled. If the forms outnumber the letters of the alphabet when these are used, the signature series con tinues either as AA or 2A, etc. When two sections of a book begin printing simulta neously for expedition, and as it is uncertain where the first will end, the second has its page folios begun by guesswork— if the first runs over it is necessary to duplicate a certain number of the doting pages of the first sec tion, as 480A, 481A, etc. or else to continue the closing number, as 496A, 496B, etc., or if only one or two, 496%, 496g.