requires a volume in
itself. Many scholars and many craftsmen contributed to that glorious
result. It did not come all in a minute. Gutenburg's uneven Latin
lettering was a far cry from our uniform, clear, well-designed variety
of print. In the first place, as I told you before, good ink and good
paper were necessary to beautiful text, and these Gutenburg did not
have. Gradually, however, as a result of repeated experiments, paper and
ink that were of practical value were manufactured. China had long been
successful in printing because of the fine texture of her paper. Italy,
the home of the arts, caught up Gutenburg's invention and brought not
only lettering but paper-making to a marvelous degree of perfection."

"Italy and China always seem to be doing things," laughed Paul.

"Both nations were inventive and original," answered Mr. Cameron. "The
difference between them was that while China locked all her discoveries
up within her own walled cities, Italy shared her knowledge with the
rest of the world and made it and herself immortal."

"The Italians were a great people, weren't they?"

"They were true lovers of all that was best and most beautiful,"
answered his father gravely. "Even their aristocracy felt it no disgrace
to toil to perfect a fine art. To make that which was excellent more
excellent still was the aim of rich and poor. Nobles, artisans,
barefooted friars worked together towards that common goal. It was an
Italian prince, Nicholas V, a man who afterward became Pope, who founded
the Vatican Library and collected five thousand books, at a time, you
must remember, when a book was a rare and almost priceless treasure. To
him we owe the preservation of many a valuable old manuscript that might
otherwise have been destroyed. Five thousand volumes was in those days a
vast number to get together."

"Our public libraries would not think so now," smiled Paul.

"No, because at present books are so easily within reach that we
scarcely appreciate them. We certainly read only a very small proportion
of them."

"I know I don't read many," said Paul soberly.

"You will read more as you grow older, son," returned his father kindly.
"But most of us are intellectually lazy; even grown-up persons devote a
good part of their short lives to reading things that profit them
nothing."

"Things like the _March Hare_, for example," suggested Paul facetiously.

"Many a worse thing than the _March Hare_, I'm afraid," his