“‘Yes,’ replied Gutenberg in a serious and dignified tone, ‘it is a wine-press in effect, but it is a press from which shortly shall sprout forth floods of the most abundant and the most marvelous liquor that has ever flowed to quench the thirst of man. By it God shall spread his Word; from it shall flow a fountain-head of pure truth. As a new star, it shall dissipate the darkness of ignorance, and cause to shine on men a light hitherto unknown!’ He withdrew. The mechanic, who understood nothing of these words, executed the machine, and returned it to Gutenberg at the monastery of Arbogast. This was the first press. “In giving it into the hands of Gutenberg, the workman began to suspect some mystery. ‘I see clearly, Master John,’ said he to Gutenberg, ‘that you are indeed in communication with celestial spirits; so hereafter I shall obey you as one of them--as a spirit!’” This first press, contrived in the gloomy recesses of the old monastery, was set up in the printing rooms of Dritzhn’s dwelling, but was not at first fully appreciated. Two years passed, the company cutting a supply of movable type. Some sales were effected, but financial affairs were not flattering. Meanwhile a new cause of disturbance occurred to impede progress, and waken in Gutenberg’s partners doubts of his uniform infallibility in invention. It was discovered that ink softened the type, and injured the shape of the letters. Riffe, one of the first to notice it, became alarmed. “It is my mind,” said he, “that the bubble has burst. We may as well give up, and engage in our old trade. These uncertainties will never bring grist to the mill.” “The type does not print as well after it becomes softened by the ink?” said Dritzhn inquiringly to Gutenberg. “We must expect difficulties,” was the reply, “and seek to overcome them. We must make more fresh type until we can contrive a way of hardening the wood.” At this the firm murmured against him afresh; nor were they better satisfied as time went on, and “John Dunnius’ bill of one hundred florins was sent in for press-work.” “Monstrous!” exclaimed Hielman; “we can never afford it.” “It is all pay out in this business,” Dritzhn added, “and almost nothing coming in to balance the loss.” “Wait a little,” was Gutenberg’s reply; “we are now sowing the seed; by and by we shall reap our harvests.” And he further appeased their agitation by calling attention to the satisfactory working of the press, and reminded them of the great service it was to them. “Do you not see,” said he, “that our labor of making _stucke_ is nearly useless without the frame and press? We must either give up the art, and disband, or make the necessary improvements as they are called for.” While feeling keenly the murmurings of his associates, most indomitable was the spirit that he cherished, having the indispensable attribute of the true inventor,--a passion for his calling, and confidence in ultimate success. [Illustration] [Illustration]