The Pentateuch of Printing

October 1, 2026

Distributed Proofreaders is 26 years old today, and Hot off the Press is celebrating with a fitting contribution to Project Gutenberg: The Pentateuch of Printing by English typographer William Blades.

This generously illustrated book covers the history of Western typography and printing from ancient times to the late 19th Century. It is fancifully arranged like the Pentateuch (first five books) of the Bible, with five chapters headed “Genesis,” “Exodus,” “Leviticus,” “Numbers,” and “Deuteronomy,” plus a bonus section headed “A Chapter on Judges,” connecting these chapter titles metaphorically to various aspects of printing’s history.

Blades poses the question, “Who invented Printing?” He cites the controversy as to whether it was Johannes Gutenberg or Laurens Coster, both 15th-Century European printers (though the claim for Coster is now considered legend rather than fact). What Blades doesn’t acknowledge is that printing with woodblocks and, later, moveable type had been invented centuries earlier in Asia. Blades credits the Chinese only with the invention of paper.

Europeans simply didn’t know yet about Asian printing. As Eric Marshall White notes in his recent book, Johannes Gutenberg: A Biography in Books, “even Marco Polo famously neglected to mention Chinese printing.” Gutenberg and other printers of his time were working in the dark, which made them genuine pioneers in the field. The more accurate question would be, “Who invented the printing press?” And the answer is certainly Gutenberg, whose true crowning achievement was to invent a mechanized process with moveable (and durable) metal type, making it easier to produce multiple copies, thus revolutionizing the world of books by making them widely available.

This limitation aside, Blades provides a detailed account of typography and printing. He begins the “Genesis” chapter with the development of writing in the ancient world, citing stamped clay tablets, stone engravings, styli and wax tablets, and ink on papyrus. Then, in 14th-Century Europe, came “block books,” in which images and text were carved into wood and coated with an ink made from lampblack (carbon) and oil, then stamped on parchment or paper. And illuminated manuscripts, mainly created by monks, were copied and decorated by hand and disseminated to the wealthy.

Caxton’s typeface for his 1474 book The Recuyell of the Histories of Troye, the first book printed in English

In the “Exodus” chapter, Blades describes how, thanks to Gutenberg, printing presses proliferated throughout continental Europe in the 15th Century, and then to Britain. Blades places special focus on William Caxton – Blades had published a book about him in 1861 – believed to have been the first printer in England and the first seller of printed books there. Blades notes that printing later made it to the New World, with the first press in the Americas established in Mexico City in about 1539; and a century later the first press in British North America, in Cambridge, Massachusetts (whose first publication was the famous Bay Psalm Book in 1640).

The “Leviticus” chapter is a fascinating overview of the process of printing, including type-foundry – the creation of typefaces on moveable metal type. Blades discusses how the early presses worked and the practical challenges they posed to printers of the time, as they required two men to operate: “One ‘beat’ the ‘form,’ that is, he dabbed two big, soft balls covered with ink over all the type; the other placed the white paper on the ‘tympan,’ and ran the whole, by means of a winch, beneath the ‘platen,’ and then made a strong pull at the bar.”

Blades expands the discussion to modern methods in “Deuteronomy.” The invention of a steam-powered press by Friedrich Koenig, patented in 1810, revolutionized the industry. It had a huge impact on the newspaper business, because thousands of copies could be rapidly and cheaply printed and disseminated to the public. As Blades describes it,

“Few sights are more impressive than the machine-room of one of our daily papers in the small hours of the morning…. At one end of the machine is a heavy reel of paper, sufficient to make about 6,000 complete papers. It is wound round a core like that used for a garden-hose, and forms a solid mass, which unwinds rapidly when the machine grips it. A knife with unerring precision cuts off each paper as soon as printed, and delivers it onto a collecting board. Soon after No. 1 machine gets to work, No. 2 is supplied with plates and started; so with the other machines, until eight or nine are all printing at once, each delivering about 12,000 complete copies an hour, so that with eight machines the delivery would be 96,000 per hour.”

A 19th-Century newspaper printing press

Blades turns his attention to “great and noble men who have served God and their country as printers” in the “Numbers” chapter. This contains mini-biographies of famous printers throughout Europe, like Gutenberg and Caxton, including a mention of the American Founding Father Benjamin Franklin, who began his career as a printer. Finally, the chapter on “Judges” gives an extensive bibliography of books on typography and printing.

Blades, who himself wrote a number of works on these subjects (several of which are available at Project Gutenberg), left The Pentateuch of Printing unfinished at his death in 1890. It was completed by his friend, the author Talbot Baines Reed, a popular English writer of fiction for boys. (A number of Reed’s books are also available at Project Gutenberg.) Reed contributed a “Memoir” of Blades that reflects not only Blades’s scholarship, but also the respect he enjoyed among his colleagues.

Thanks to the volunteers at Distributed Proofreaders and Project Gutenberg, Blades’s expertise is available to all for free.

This post was contributed by Linda Cantoni, a Distributed Proofreaders volunteer.


Celebrating 50,000 Titles

December 7, 2025

This post celebrates the 50,000th unique title Distributed Proofreaders has posted to Project Gutenberg: A Dictionary of the Art of Printing, by William Savage. Congratulations and thanks to all the Distributed Proofreaders and Project Gutenberg volunteers who helped us reach this major milestone!

The first book printed in England using the moveable-type technology invented by Johannes Gutenberg was published by William Caxton in 1473. Ironically, the considerable skills needed to manufacture paper, inks, type-metal letters in foundries, and mechanical printing presses were handed down only orally for more than two centuries.

It fell to Joseph Moxon to publish the first treatise describing many of these skills, Mechanick Exercises, or The Doctrine of Handy-Works Applied to the Art of Printing, in 1683/4. He himself was a master printer, and his book was intended to be a practical manual for the printing trade. Clearly the art of printing in his time was not for the faint-hearted. Preparation of ink involved boiling varnish in a cauldron, with a real danger of the fumes catching fire and “Firing the Place it is made in.” Casting the type-metal letters (fonts) in a foundry produced “Poysonous Fumes” from the antimony used in the process.

Sherwin and Cope's Imperial Press

Another 160 years would pass until William Savage, also a printer by trade, published A Dictionary of the Art of Printing. It was intended as an update to Moxon’s manual, reflecting the current (as of 1840) state of moveable-type technology. He chose the structure of a dictionary to describe detailed “how-to” segments on every aspect of printing and binding a book. He widened the scope to explain all the colorful jargon of the trade, and included alphabet tables and grammatical summaries of almost every language produced by the many British type-metal foundries of that time, from Arabic and Armenian to Sanskrit and Saxon.

What does “Upper case” really mean? See “Case.” How does one fold an octavo sheet? See “Imposing.” What is a “Galley Slave”? What is a “Gathering”? What is “Brevier”? What size is diamond, pearl, emerald, or pica font? See “Types”. How much was a compositor paid for composing 1,000 letters? See “Scale of Prices.”

Savage’s dictionary has many quotes from Moxon’s manual showing how relevant it remained two centuries later, even as the technology advanced. He also acknowledges the future electrotype technology, which was starting to revolutionize the printing industry globally. (See “Galvanism.”) Although printing technology has continued to advance beyond electrotyping to lithography and phototypesetting and digital printing, it is remarkable how much of the early printing terminology remains in our language today.

The volunteers at Distributed Proofreaders are very proud to have A Dictionary of the Art of Printing as their 50,000th unique title for Project Gutenberg.

This post was contributed by jandac, a Distributed Proofreaders volunteer who post-processed A Dictionary of the Art of Printing.


Printer Credits

March 1, 2019

colophon

Colophon of the Aldine Press

Having grown up in an age of ever increasingly sophisticated advertising, I’m amazed at the poor way printers represented their work in the printers’ credits I see in the older books we work on at Distributed Proofreaders.

Printers’ credits? I’m not sure what the proper name is. I’m speaking of the two or three lines near the beginning or end of a book where the printer’s name, address, and any other information appear.

I’m not sure of the purpose of this information appearing in a book. Perhaps it helps support a publisher’s claim that the book has been published in a particular country and is therefore protected by that country’s copyright laws. It doesn’t appear to be in every book, so it can’t have been a legal requirement to include it. Printing companies presumably had established reputations. Some may have been known for quick typesetting and turnaround, some for low prices, some for accurate technical work or quality binding. Publishers must have needed to know these reputations to select an appropriate printer for a particular job. I hope publishers weren’t depending on the two or three lines of printed identification to identify the quality of a potential printer’s work.

No, I don’t think this would have been the way printers were presenting themselves to publishing houses for future business. I expect printing companies advertised to publishers in some other way to establish business relationships. However, the printer’s credit in a book is the only way the printers are known to the reading public. In any case, I’d think they’d want to put their best foot, er, font and printing quality forward! I’d think they’d want to at least meet the quality of the rest of the book they printed.

In the early days of European printing, printers were often also the publisher, editor, bookseller, and even author or translator. The famous Aldine Press of Venice was one such printing firm, engaging giants of humanism such as Erasmus to produce translations of ancient classics imprinted with its distinctive dolphin colophon.

By the 19th Century, with specialization, the printer’s role had become separate, and the colophons belonged to the publishers. In some cases, printers may have wanted to omit a printer credit to avoid potential prosecution for printing banned or pirated books. But books containing printers’ credits that are poorly printed neither protect the printer from prosecution nor present the printer’s capabilities in a favorable light.

The printed book itself demonstrates the printer’s quality of work, but I’d expect the information naming the printing firm in the book to represent their best work. Printers’ credits first caught my eye as representing the worst example of printing in a book! I often questioned whether this blob of text had been originally printed in a book or just rubber-stamped crookedly after the fact onto the page.

As I found myself looking to see how poorly the printers’ credit looked in each book, my impression was that they typically use the worst font and have the blurriest impression of anything in the book. It’s as if they were trying to make the credit look as bad as they could. Besides the rubber-stamp look, the printing impression often looks incomplete, part of letters missing or blurred. Blobs of ink fill in the open spots of letters. But don’t just take my word for it. Here are some examples.

Let’s start with a few that have the rubber-stamp look:

printer credit

printer credit

printer credit

Here’s one with an unusual layout:

printer credit

Here’s one squeezed at the bottom of the last index page of a book, unevenly printed on a single line:

printer credit

 

Finally, here are a couple of quality printer’s credits to be the exception:

printercredit7

printercredit8

Perhaps now you’ll find yourself looking to see just how poor an impression these printers make! Or maybe you’ll find the high-quality entry that proves the exception.

This post was contributed by WebRover, a DP volunteer.


Project Gutenberg celebrates 50,000 titles

September 18, 2015

Project Gutenberg 50,000 Books

Distributed Proofreaders proudly brings to you Project Gutenberg’s 50,000th title, John Gutenberg, First Master Printer, His Acts, and most remarkable Discourses, and his Death, by Franz von Dingelstedt, translated from the German and published in 1860.

cover

I couldn’t think of a more appropriate title to celebrate this milestone. Johannes Gutenberg is known as the inventor of the moveable-type printing press, which led to the mass production of printed books and subsequent growth of literacy, knowledge and learning.

The project was first suggested by a DP volunteer. It was quickly picked up by one of our newer project managers, ably assisted by one of our more experienced and prolific project managers, who helped convert the long “s” used in the original publication to the regular “s” in use today.

With notification that PG was nearing its 50,000th book, the project manager suggested that if we hurried, perhaps we could finish it in time to be considered as a contender.

More than 30 volunteers joined in with no notice and made sure the pages were proofread and formatted to a standard of excellence, so that there was very little for the post-processor to have to do to assemble and check the pages for the final ebook. A draft was made available, and in next to no time smooth readers had read the book and reported their findings to ensure the ebook represented the original.

The book is a biography of the man, born Johann Gensfleisch, who preferred to be known as Johann Gutenberg (John Gutenberg in the translation). His inventions led to the printing of the first book published using moveable type, the Bible in Latin. He had little money and was unable to continue his experiments without financial backing. He met John Fust, who bankrolled Gutenberg’s venture, and the Bible was completed in time for the wedding of Fust’s daughter:

The Bible, on its part, had its silver clasps well rubbed and polished, and, being placed on a table, it shone, to the edification and admiration of all beholders.

The book quotes Gutenberg as saying:

My art belongs to me as much as to the rest of the world; let it remain the property of intelligence, and only be practised by those who have been initiated in it.

Yet he felt that his:

… art is not like any other art; a painter sketches his figures on the canvas, and he perfects the creation of his thought; the same with the poet, the engraver, the architect, and the musician; we, on the contrary, with our presses, are only the servants of others; printing is only an instrument for thinkers. Of what importance are the fingers which regulate the letters in a book? Of what importance is the hand which works the press, which arranges the pages and the leaves, which gives a visible form to the action of the mind?

Gutenberg toiled long and hard, working in dark, oppressive and humble conditions, but eventually he lost his business to Fust and died “neglected and in destitution.” His legacy, however, lives on, and his namesake, Project Gutenberg, continues the philosophy of sharing the printed word with the world.

This post was contributed by a DP volunteer.


Typesetting

October 8, 2014

Typesetting is a topic close to the hearts of many DPers, and the foundation on which the books we work on were built.

I learnt typewriting on a manual typewriter when I was at school. A classmate secured a job as an editor with a magazine based on the skills she learnt in the course we were doing. I was so envious! Editor on a magazine, with no work experience, and no qualification. A few years earlier, when asked by a teacher what I wanted to be, I replied I wanted to be a journalist, not because I wanted to be a writer, but because I wanted to work on newspapers, with those monstrous printing presses and the glorious smell of ink, and fiddly bits of lead.

I did manage to become a journalist and editor, but the huge presses were ageing, and typesetting was becoming regarded as no more than wordprocessing on a computer. I remember being chastised for the miles of galley paper that spewed out of the printer one time when I forgot to close off the heading command properly and ended up with a whole article in 72-point Times, a somewhat expensive mistake as rolls of galley proof paper were not cheap.

setting type

Working on the book, Typesetting, by A. A. Stewart, for Project Gutenberg, I couldn’t help but reflect and wish I could have been an apprentice hand compositor and daydream about what the publishing industry must have been like when each character had to be manually placed in the composing stick; when the characters of each font were housed in separate type cases; when measurements for line lengths, page sizes, and margins, had to be mentally calculated quickly and accurately; when justification of lines was achieved by manually placing a mix of different space widths characters (and even resorting to “pieces of paper or thin card” if metal thin spaces were not at hand).

type case

Imagine being able to set type and be able to read the text upside down; to have the dexterity to take a piece of type from the case and place it in the case; to proofread the lines of type and correct mistakes before justifying the lines.

upside down

How arduous the correction process, where “Simple errors like the exchanging of one type for another of the same width, the turning of an inverted character, or the transposition of letters or words, are corrected by pressing the line at both ends to lift it up about one-third of its height and picking out the wrong types with the finger and thumb. The line is then dropped in place and the right types put in.”

Not to mention having to wash the type and placing each character back into the proper slots in the proper cases, so that the type pieces could be used over and over.

Sitting at my computer, selecting fonts, messing about with HTML and CSS coding, I still want to be an apprentice hand compositor. “Typesetting, a primer of information about working at the case, justifying, spacing, correcting, making-up, and other operations employed in setting type by hand”, is an excellent training manual that gives me an insight into what I would have been doing had I been able to achieve my dream.

This post was contributed by a DP volunteer.