the title of James I.’s
and Bishop Walton supposed the title of the great Arabic Dictionary, the _Kamoos_ or Ocean, to be the name of an author
whom he quotes as “Camus.” In the article on Stenography in Rees’s Cyclop
there are two most amusing blunders. John Nicolai published a _Treatise on the Signs of the Ancients_ at the beginning of the last century, and the writer of the
article, having seen it stated that a certain fact was to be found in Nicolai, jumped
to the conclusion that it was the name of a place, and wrote, “It was at Nicolai
that this method of writing was first introduced to the Greeks by Xenophon
himself.” Tn another part of the same article the oldest method of shorthand
extant, entitled “Ars Scribendi Characteris,” is said to have been printed about
the year 1412–that is, long before printing was invented. In the _Biographie Univer
selle_
there is a life of one Nicholas Donis, by Baron Walckenaer, which is a blundering alteration of the real name of a
Benedictine monk called Dominus Nicholas. This, however, is not the only time that a title has been taken for a name. An
eminent bookseller is said to have
received a letter signed George Winton, proposing a life of Pitt; but, as he did not know the name, he paid no attention to
the letter, and was much astonished when he was afterwards told that his
correspondent was no less a person than George Pretyman Tomline, Bishop of
Winchester. This is akin to the mistake of the Scotch doctor attending on the
Princess Charlotte during her illness, who said that “ane Jean Saroom” had been
continually calling, but, not knowing the fellow, he had taken no notice of him.
Thus the Bishop of Salisbury was sent away by one totally ignorant of his
dignity. A similar blunder was made by a bibliographer, for in Hotten’s _Handbook to the Topography and Family History of
England and Wales_ will be found an entry of an “Assize Sermon by Bishop Wigorn,
in the Cathedral at Worcester, 1690.” This was really Bishop Stillingfleet. There is a reverse case of a catalogue made by a worthy bookseller of the name of William London, which was long supposed to be
the work of Dr. William Juxon, the Bishop of London at the time of publication.
The entry in the _Biographie Moderne_ of “Brigham _le jeune_ ou Brigham Young”
furnishes a fine instance of a writer succumbing to the ever-present temptation to be too clever by half. A somewhat
similar blunder is that of the late Mr. Dircks. The first reprint of the Marquis of Worcester’s _Century of Inventions_ was issued by Thomas Payne, the highly
respected bookseller of the Mews Gate, in 1746; but in _Worcesteriana_ (1866) Mr.
Dircks positively asserts that the notorious Tom Paine was the publisher of it, thus
ignoring the different spelling of the two names.
In a French book on the invention of
printing, the sentence “Le berceau de l’imprimerie” was misread by a German,
who turned Le Berceau into a man{.??} D’Israeli tells us that _Mantissa_, the title
of the Appendix to Johnstone’s _History of Plants_, was taken for the name of an author by D’Aquin, the French king’s
physician. The author of the _Curiosities of Literature_ also relates that an Italian misread the description _Enrichi de deux listes_ on the title-page of a French book of travels, and, taking it for the author’s name, alluded to the opinions of
Mons. Enrichi De Deux Listes; but
really this seems almost too good to be true.
If we searched bibliographical literature we should find a fair crop of authors who never existed; for when once a blunder
of this kind is set going, it seems to bear a charmed life. Mr. Daydon Jackson
mentions some amusing instances of
imaginary authors made out of title-pages in his _Guide to the Literature of Botany_. An anonymous work of A. Massalongo,
entitled _Graduale Passagio delle Crittogame alle Fanerogame_ (1876), has been entered in a German bibliography as written by
G. Passagio. In an English list Kelaart’s _Flora Calpensis: Reminiscences of Gibraltar_ (1846) appears as the work of a lady–
Christian name, Flora; _surname_, Calpensis. In 1837 a _Botanical-Lexicon_ was published by an author who described himself as
“The Rev. Patrick Keith, Clerk, F.L.S.” This somewhat pedantic form deceived a
foreign cataloguer, who took Clerk for the surname, and contracted “Patrick Keith” into the initials P.K. More inexcusable
was the blunder of an American who, in describing J. E. H. Gordon’s work on
_Electricity_, changed the author’s degree into the initials of a collaborator, one Cantab. The joint authors were stated
to be J. E. H. Gordon and B. A. Cantab.
A very amusing, but a quite excusable error, was made by Allibone in his
_Dictionary of English Literature_, under the heading of Isaac D’Israeli. He
notices new editions of that author’s works revised by the Right Hon. the
Chancellor of the Exchequer, of course Isaac’s son Benjamin, afterwards Prime
Minister and Earl of Beaconsfield; but unfortunately there were two Chancellors in 1858, and Allibone chooses the wrong
one, printing, as useful information to the reader, that the reviser was Sir George
Cornewall Lewis. An instance of the danger of inconsiderate explanation will be found in a little book by a German
lady, Fanny Lewald, entitled _England and Schottland_. The authoress, when in
London, visited the theatre in order to see a play founded on Cooper’s novel
_The Wept of Wish-ton Wish_; and being unable to understand the title, she calls it the “Will of the Whiston Wisp,” which she tells us means an _ignis fatuus_.
A writer in a German paper was led
into an amusing blunder by an English review a few years ago. The reviewer,
having occasion to draw a distinction between George and Robert Cruikshank,
spoke of the former as the real Simon Pure. The German, not understanding
the allusion, gravely told his readers that George Cruikshank was a pseudonym,
the author’s real name being Simon Pure. This seems almost too good to be equalled, but a countryman of our own has blundered nearly as grossly. William Taylor,
in his _Historic Survey of German Poetry_ (1830), prints the following absurd
statement: “Godfred of Berlichingen is one
of the earliest imitations of the Shakspeare tragedy which the German school has
produced. It was admirably translated into English in 1799 at Edinburg by _William_ Scott, advocate, no doubt the same person who, under the poetical but assumed name of _Walter_, has since become the most
extensively popular of the British writers.” The cause of this mistake we cannot explain, but the reason for it is to be found
in the fact which has lately been announced that a few copies of the translation, with the misprint of William for Walter in the title, were issued before the error was
discovered.
Jacob Boehm, the theosophist, wrote
some Reflections on a theological treatise by one Isaiah Stiefel,[6] the title of which puzzled one of his modern French
biographers. The word Stiefel in German means a boot, and the Frenchman therefore gave the title of Boehm’s tract as
“Reflexions sur les Bottes d’Isaie.”
[6] “Bedencken
von dreyerley Zustandt des Menschen unnd dessen newen Geburt.” 1639.
It is scarcely fair to make capital out
of the blunders of booksellers’ catalogues, which are often printed in a great hurry, and cannot possibly possess the advantage of correction which a book does. But
one or two examples may be given without any censure being intended on the
booksellers.
In a French catalogue the works of
the famous philosopher Robert Boyle appeared under the following singular
French form: BOY (le), Chymista scepticus vel dubia et paradoxa chymico-physica, &c.
“Mr. Tul. Cicero’s Epistles” looks
strange, but the mistake is but small. The very natural blunder respecting the
title of Shelley’s _Prometheus Unbound_ actually did occur; and, what is more, it was expected by Theodore Hook. This is
an accurate copy of the description in the catalogue of a year or two back:–
“Shelley’s Prometheus _Unbound_.
—- another copy, _in whole calf_.” and these are Hook’s lines:–
“Shelley styles his new poem `Prometheus Unbound,’ And ’tis like to remain so while time circles round;
For surely an age would be spent in the finding A reader so weak as _to pay for the binding_.”
When books are classified in a catalogue the compiler must be peculiarly on his
guard if he has the titles only and not the books before him. Sometimes instances of incorrect classification show
gross ignorance, as in the instance quoted in the _Athen
a crop of blunders: “_Title_, Commentarii De Bello Gallico in usum Scholarum
Liber Tirbius. _Author_, Mr. C. J.
Caesoris. _Subject_, Religion.” Still better is the auctioneer’s entry of P. V. Maroni’s _The Opera_. Authors, however, are usually so fond of fanciful ear-catching titles, that every excuse must be made for the cataloguer, who mistakes their meaning, and
takes them in their literal signification. Who can reprove too severely the classifier who placed Swinburne’s _Under the
Microscope_ in his class of _Optical Instruments_, or treated Ruskin’s _Notes on the Construction of Sheetfolds_ as a work on agricultural appliances? A late instance of an amusing misclassification is reported from Germany. In the _Orientalische
Bibliographie_, Mr. Rider Haggard’s wonderful story _King Solomon’s Mines_ is entered as a contribution to
“Alttestamentliche Lltteratur.”
The elaborate work by Careme, _Le
Patissier Pittoresque_ (1842), which contains designs for confectioners, deceived the bookseller from its plates of pavilions, temples, etc., into supposing it to be a book on architecture, and he accordingly placed it under that heading in his
catalogue.
Mr. Daydon Jackson gives several
instances of false classification in his _Guide to the Literature of Botany_, and remarks that some authors contrive titles seemingly of set purpose to entrap the unwary. He
instances a fine example in the case of Bishop Alexander Ewing’s _Feamainn
Earraghaidhiell: Argyllshire Seaweeds_ (Glasgow, 1872. 8vo). To enhance the
delusion, the coloured wrapper is
ornamented with some of the common marine alg
consists solely of pastoral addresses. Another example will be found in _Flowers from
the South, from the Hortus Siccus of an
Old Collector_. By W. H. Hyett, F.R.S. Instead of a popular work on the
Mediterranean flora by a scientific man, as might reasonably be expected, this is a
volume of translations from the Italian and Latin poets. It is scarcely fair to
blame the compiler of the _Bibliotheca Historio-Naturalis_ for having ranked
both these works among scientific treatises. The English cataloguer who treated as a
botanical book Dr. Garnett’s selection from Coventry Patmore’s poems, entitled
_Florilegium Amantis_, could claim less excuse for his blunder than the German
had. These misleading titles are no new invention, and the great bibliographer
Haller was deceived into including the title of James Howell’s _Deudrologia, or Dodona’s Grove_ (1640), in his _Bibliotheca Botanica_. Professor Otis H. Robinson
contributed a very interesting paper on the “Titles of Books” to the _Special Report on Public Libraries in the United States of America_ (1876), in which he deals very
fully with this difficulty of misleading titles, and some of his preliminary remarks are
very much to the point. He writes:–
“No act of a man’s life requires
more practical common sense than the naming of his book. If he would make
a grocer’s sign or an invoice of a cellar of goods or a city directory, he uses no metaphors; his pen does not hesitate for the plainest word. He must make himself
understood by common men. But
if he makes a book the case is different. It must have the charm of a pleasing
title. If there is nothing new within, the back at least must be novel and taking. He tortures his imagination for something which will predispose the reader in its
favour. Mr. Parker writes a series of biographical sketches, and calls it _Morning Stars of the New World_. Somebody prepares seven religious essays, binds them
up in a book, and calls it _Seven Stormy Sundays_. Mr. H. T. Tuckerman makes
a book of essays on various subjects, and calls it _The Optimist_; and then devotes several pages of preface to an argument, lexicon in hand, proving that the
applicability of the term optimist is `obvious.’ An editor, at intervals of leisure, indulges his true poetic taste for the pleasure of his
friends, or the entertainment of an occasional audience. Then his book appears, entitled not _Miscellaneous Poems_, but
_Asleep in the Sanctum_, by A. A. Hopkins. Sometimes, not satisfied with one enigma, another is added. Here we have _The
Great iron Wheel; or, Republicanism Backwards and Christianity Reversed_, by J. R. Graves. These titles are neither new nor scarce, nor limited to any particular class of books. Every case, almost every shelf, in every library contain such. They are as old as the art of book-making. David’s
lamentation over Saul and Jonathan was called _The Bow_. A single word in the
poem probably suggested the name. Three of the orations of
Graces_, and his letters _The Muses_.”
The list of bibliographical blunders
might be indefinitely extended, but the subject is somewhat technical, and the
above few instances will give a sufficient indication of the pitfalls which lie in the way of the bibliographer–a worker who
needs universal knowledge if he is to wend his way safely through the snares
in his path.
CHAPTER V.
LISTS OF ERRATA.
THE errata of the early printed
books are not numerous, and
this fact is easily accounted for
when we recollect that these books were superintended in their passage through
the press by scholars such as the Alduses, Andreas, Bishop of Aleria, Campanus
Perottus, the Stephenses, and others. It is said that the first book with a printed errata is the edition of _Juvenal_, with notes of Merula, printed by Gabriel Pierre, at Venice, in 1478; previously the mistakes had been corrected by the pen. One of
the longest lists of errata on record, which occupies fifteen folio pages, is in the
edition of the works of Picus of Mirandula, printed by Knoblauch, at Strasburg,
in 1507. A worse case of blundering will be found in a little book of only one
hundred and seventy-two pages, entitled _Miss
which contains fifteen pages of errata. The author, feeling that such a gross case of blundering required some excuse or
explanation, accounted for the misprints by asserting that the devil drenched
the manuscript in the kennel, making it almost illegible, and then obliged the
printer to misread it. We may be allowed to believe that the fiend who did all the mischief was the printer’s “devil.”
Cardinal Bellarmin tried hard to get
his works printed correctly, but without success, and in 1608 he was forced to
publish at Ingolstadt a volume entitled _Recognitio librorum omnium Roberti
Belarmini_, in which he printed eighty-eight pages of errata of his Controversies.
Edward Leigh, in his thin folio volume entitled _On Religion and Learning_, 1656, was forced to add two closely printed
leaves of errata.
Sometimes apparent blunders have been intentionally made; thus, to escape the
decree of the Inquisition that the words fatum and fata should not be used in
any work, a certain author printed _facta_ in his book, and added in the errata “_for_ facta _read_ fata.”
In dealing with our own older literature we find a considerable difference in degree of typographical correctness; thus the old plays of the sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries are often marvels of inaccuracy, and while books of the same date are
usually supplied with tables of errata, plays were issued without any such helps to correction. This to some extent is to be accounted for by the fact that many of these plays were surreptitious publications, or, at all events, printed in a hurry, without care. The late Mr. Halliwell Phillipps, in his curious privately printed volume (_A Dictionary of Misprints_, 1887), writes: “Such tests were really a thousandfold
more necessary in editions of plays, but they are practically non-existent in the latter, the brief one which is prefixed
to Dekker’s _Satiro-Mastix_, 1602, being nearly the only example that is to be
found in any that appeared during the literary career of the great dramatist.”
In other branches of literature it is
evident that some care was taken to escape misprints, either by the correction of the printer’s reader or of the author. Some
of the excuses made for misprints in our old books are very amusing. In a little
English book of twenty-six leaves printed at Douay in 1582, and entitled _A true
reporte of the death and martyrdome of M. Campion Jesuite and Preiste, and M.
Sherwin and M. Bryan Preistes, at Tiborne the first of December_ 1581, is this notice at the end:–
“Good reader, pardon all faultes escaped in the printing and beare with the
woorkmanship of a strainger.”
Many of Nicholas Breton’s tracts were issued surreptitiously, and he protested that many pieces which he had never
written were falsely ascribed to him. _The Bower of Delights_ was published without the author’s sanction, and the printer
(or publisher) Richard Jones made the following address “to the Gentlemen
Readers” on the blunders which had been made in the book:–
“Pardon mee (good Gentlemen) of my
presumption, & protect me, I pray you,
against those Cavellers and findfaults, that never like of any thing that they see
printed, though it be never so well compiled. And where you happen to find
fault, impute it to bee committed by the Printers negligence, then (otherwise) by any ignorance in the author: and
especially in A 3, about the middest of the page, for LIME OR LEAD I pray you
read LINE OR LEAD. So shall your poore Printer haue just cause hereafter to be
more carefull, and acknowledge himselfe most bounden (at all times) to do your
service to the utmost of his power. “Yours R. J., PRINTER.”
A little scientific book, entitled _The Making and use of the Geometricall Instrument called a Sector . . . by Thomas Hood_,
1598, has a list of errata headed _Faultes escaped_, with this note of the author
or printer:–
“Gentle reader, I pray you excuse
these faults, because I finde by experience, that it is an harder matter to
print these mathematicall books trew, then bookes of other discourse.”
Arthur Hopton’s _Baculum Geod
sive Viaticum or the Geodeticall Staffe_ (1610), contains the following quaint lines at the head of the list of errata:–
“The Printer to the Reader.
“For errours past or faults that scaped be, Let this collection give content to thee: A worke of art, the grounds to us unknowne, May cause us erre, thoughe all our skill be showne. When points and letters, doe containe the sence, The wise may halt, yet doe no great offence. Then pardon here, such faults that do befall, The next edition makes amends for all.”
Thomas Heywood, the voluminous dramatist, added to his _Apology for Actors_
(1612) an interesting address to the printer of his tract, which, besides drawing attention to the printer’s dislike of his errors being called attention to in a table of errata, is singularly valuable for its reference to Shakespeare’s annoyance at
Jaggard’s treatment of him by attributing to his pen Heywood’s poems from _Great
Britain’s Troy_.
“To my approved good Friend,
“MR. NICHOLAS OKES.
“The infinite faults escaped in my
booke of _Britaines Troy_ by the negligence of the printer, as the misquotations,
mistaking the sillables, misplacing halfe lines, coining of strange and never heard of
words, these being without number, when I would have taken a particular account
of the _errata_, the printer answered me, hee would not publish his owne disworkemanship, but rather let his owne fault lye
upon the necke of the author. And being fearefull that others of his quality had beene of the same nature and condition,
and finding you, on the contrary, so carefull and industrious, so serious and laborious to doe the author all the rights of the presse, I could not choose but
gratulate your honest indeavours with this short remembrance. Here, likewise,
I must necessarily insert a manifest injury done me in that worke, by taking the
two epistles of Paris to Helen, and Helen to Paris, and printing them in a lesse
volume under the name of another, which may put the world in opinion I might
steale them from him, and hee, to doe himselfe right, hath since published them in his owne name; but as I must
ac
knowledge my lines not worthy his
patronage under whom he hath publisht them, so the author, I know, much offended with M. Jaggard (that altogether unknowne to him) presumed to make so bold with
his name. These and the like dishonesties I knowe you to bee cleere of; and I could wish but to bee the happy author of so
worthy a worke as I could willingly commit to your care and workmanship.
“Yours ever, THOMAS HEYWOOD.”
In the eighteenth century printers and authors had become hardened in their
sins, and seldom made excuses for the errors of the press, but in the seventeenth century explanations were frequent.
Silvanus Morgan, in his _Horologiographia Optica. Dialling Universall and
Particular, Speculative and Practicall, London_ 1652, comes before his readers
with these remarks on the errata:–
“Reader I having writ this some years since, while I was a childe in Art, and by this appear to be little more, for want of a review hath these faults, which I desire thee to mend with thy pen, and if there
be any errour in art, as in chap. 17 which is only true at the time of the
Equinoctiall, take that for an oversight, and where thou findest equilibra read
equilibrio, and in the dedication (in some copies) read Robert Bateman for Thomas,
and side for signe and know that _Optima prima cadunt, pessimus
The list of errata in Joseph Glanvill’s _Essays on several important subjects in Philosophy and Religion_ (1676) is prefixed by this note:–
“The Reader is desired to take notice of the following Errours of the Press, some of which are so near in sound, to the
words of the author, that they may easily be mistaken for his.”
The next two books to be mentioned
were published in the same year–1679. The noble author referred to in the first is that Roger Palmer who had the dishonour
of being the husband of Charles II.’s notorious mistress, the Countess of
Castlemaine. Fortunately for the Earl she no longer bore his name, as she was created Duchess of Cleveland in 1670. Professor
De Morgan was inclined to doubt Lord
Castlemaine’s authorship, but the following remarks by Joseph Moxon seem to prove
that the peer did produce a rough draft of some kind:–
“Postscript concerning the Erratas and the Geographical part of this Globe,”
prefixed to _The English Globe_ . . . by the Earl of Castlemaine:–
“The Erratas of the Press being many, I shall not set them down in a distinct
Catalogue as usually, least the sight of them should more displease, than the particulars advantage, especially since they are not so material or intricate, but that any man may (I hope) easily mend them in the reading. I confess I have bin in a manner the occasion of them, by taking from the noble
author a very foul copy, when he desir’d me to stay till a fair one were written over, so that truly ’tis no wonder, if workmen should in these cases not only sometimes leave out, but adde also, by taking one line for another, or not observing with exactness what words have bin wholly obliterated
or dasht out.”
John Playford, the music publisher
and author, makes some remarks on the
subject of misprints in the preface to his _Vade Mecum, or the Necessary Companion_ (1679), which are worth quotation
here:–
“My profession obliging me to be
conversant with mathematical Books (the printing whereof and musick, has been
my chiefest employment), I have observ’d two things many times the cause why
Books of this nature appear abroad not so correct as they should be; either I
Because they are too much hastened from the Press, and not time enough allowed
for the strict and deliberate examination of them; which in all books ought to be
done, especially in these, for as much as one false figure in a Mathematical book, may prove a greater fault than a whole
word mistake in books of another kind. Or, 2 Because Persons take Tables upon
trust without trying them, and with them transcribe their errors, if not increase them. Both these I have carefully avoided, so that I have reason to believe (and think I may say it without vanity) there never was Tables more exactly printed than in
this Book, especially those for money and
annuities, for not trusting to my first calculation of them, I new calculated every Table when it was in print, by the first printed sheet, and when I had so done
I strictly compared it with my first calculation.”
De Morgan registers the nineteenth
edition of this book, dated 1756, in his _Arithmetical Books_, and he did not apparently know that it was originally published
so early as 1679.
In Morton’s _Natural History of
Northamptonshire_ (1712), is a list headed “Some Errata of the press to be corrected”; and at the end of the list is the following
amusing note: “There is no cut of the Hen of the lesser Py’d Brambling in Tab. 13 tho’ ’tis referred to in p. 423 which omission was owing to an accident and is really not very material, the hen of that bird differing but little from the cock
which is represented in that Table under fig. 3.”
There is a very prevalent notion that authors did not correct the proofs of their books in the sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries, but there is sufficient evidence
that this is altogether a mistake. Professor De Morgan, with his usual sagacity, alludes to this point in his _Arithmetical Books_ (1847): “A great many circumstances induce me to think that the general fashion
of correcting the press by the author came in with the seventeenth century or
thereabouts.” And he instances this note on the title-page of Richard Witt’s _Arithmetical Questions_ (1613): “Examined also
and corrected at the Presse by the author himselfe.”
The late Dr. Brinsley Nicholson raised this question in _Notes and Queries_ in 1889, and by his research it is possible to
antedate the practice by nearly forty years. For several of the following quotations I am indebted to that invaluable periodical. In Scot’s _Hop-Garden_ (1574) we find the following excuse:–
“Forasmuch as M. Scot could not
be present at the printing of this his booke, whereby I might have used his
advice in the correction of the same, and especiallie of the Figures and Portratures conteyned therein, whereof he
delivered unto me such notes as I
being unskilfull in the matter could not so thoroughly conceyve, nor so
perfectly expresse as . . . the authour or you.”
In _The Droomme of Doomes Day_. By
George Gascoigne (1576) is:–
“An Aduertisement of the Prynter to the Reader.
“Understand (gentle Reader) that whiles this worke was in the presse it pleased
God to visit the translatour thereof with sicknesse. So that being unable himselfe to attend the dayly proofes, he apoynted a seruaunt of his to ouersee the same.
Who being not so well acquainted with the matter as his maister was, there haue passed some faultes much contrary unto
both our meanings and desires. The which I have therefore collected into this Table. Desiring every Reader that wyll vouchsafe to peruse this booke, that he will firste correct those faultes and then judge accordingly.”
A particularly interesting note on this point precedes the list of errata in Stanyhurst’s Translation of Virgil’s _
which was printed at Leyden. Mr. F. C. Birkbeck Terry, who pointed this out in
_Notes and Queries_, quoted from Arber’s reprint, p. 157:–
“John Pates Printer to thee Corteous Reader, I am too craue thy pacience and
paynes (good reader) in bearing wyth such faultes as haue escapte in printing: and in correcting as wel such as are layd downe heere too thy view, as all oother whereat thou shalt hap too stumble in perusing
this treatise. Thee nooueltye of imprinting English in theese partes and thee absence of the author from perusing soome proofes could not choose but breede errours.”
Certainly Scot, Gascoigne, and Stanyhurst did not correct the proofs, but it
would not have been necessary to make an excuse if the practice was not a pretty general one among authors.
Bishop Babington’s _Exposition of the Lord’s Prayer_ (1588) contains an excuse for the author’s inability to correct the press:–
“If thou findest any other faultes either in words or distinctions troubling a perfect sence (Gentle Reader) helpe them by thine
owne judgement and excuse the presse by the Authors absence, who best was acquainted to reade his owne hande.”
In the Bobleian Library is preserved
the printer’s copy of Book V. of Hooker’s _Ecclesiastical Polity_ (1597), with Whitgift’s signature and corrections in Hooker’s
handwriting. On one of the pages is the following note by the printer:–
“Good Mr. Hooker, I pray you be so
good as to send us the next leaf that followeth this, for I know not by what
mischance this of ours is lost, which standeth uppon the finishing of the
book.”[7]
[7] _Notes and Queries_, 7th Series, viii. 73.
Another proof of the general practice will be found in N. Breton’s _The Wit of Wit_ (1599):–
“What faultes are escaped in the printing, finde by discretion, and excuse the
Author by other worke that let him from attendance to the Presse; non h
s
At the end of Nash’s dedication “To
his Readers,” _Lenten Stuffe_ (1599), is this
interesting statement: “Apply it for me for I am called away to correct the faults of the press, that escaped in my absence from the printing house.”
Richard Brathwaite, when publishing
his _Strappado for the Divell_ (1615), made an excuse for not having seen all the
proofs. The whole note is well worthy of reproduction:–
“Upon the Errata.
“Gentlemen (_humanum est errare_), to confirme which position, this my booke
(as many other are) hath his share of errors; so as I run _ad pr
ad pr
answerable to my title: so as I may seem to diuine by my style, what I was to indure by the presse. Yet know judicious disposed gentlemen, that the intricacie of the
copie, and the absence of the author from many important proofes were occasion of
these errors, which defects (if they bee supplied by your generous convenience
and curtuous disposition) I doe vowe to
satisfie your affectionate care with a more serious surueigh in my next
impression. . . . For other errors as the misplacing of commaes, colons, and
periods (which as they are in euerie page obvious, so many times they invert
the sence), I referre to your discretion (judicious gentle-men) whose lenity may
sooner supply them, then all my industry can portray them.”
In _The Mastive, or Young Whelpe of
the Olde Dogge, Epigrams and Satyres _(1615), an anonymous work of Henry
Peacham, we read:–
“The faultes escaped in the Printing (or any other omission) are to be excused by reason of the authors absence from the Presse, who thereto should have given
more due instructions.”
Dr. Brinsley Nicholson brought forward two very interesting passages on the
correcting of proofs from old plays. The first, which looks very like an allusion to the custom, is from the 1601 edition of
Ben Jonson’s _Every Man in his Humour_ (act. ii., sc. 3), where Lorenzo, junior, says, “My father had the proving of your
copy, some houre before I saw it.” The second is from Fletcher’s _The Nice Valour_ (1624 or 1625), act. iv., sc. 1. Lapet
says to his servant (the clown Goloshio), “So bring me the last proof, this is
corrected”; and Goloshio having gone and returned, the following ensues:–
_Lap_. What says my Printer now?
_Clown_. Here’s your last Proof, Sir. You shall have perfect Books now in a twinkling.[8]
[8]2 _Notes and Queries_, 7th Series, viii. 253.
The following address, which contains a curious excuse of Dr. Daniel Featley for not having corrected the proofs of his
book _The Romish Fisher Caught in his own Net_ (1624), is very much to the point:–
“I entreat the courteous reader to
understand that the greater part of the book was printed in the time of the great frost; when by reason that the Thames
was shut up, I could not conveniently procure the proofs to be brought unto
mee, before they were wrought off; whereupon it fell out that many very grosse
escapes passed the press, and (which was
the worst fault of all) the third part is left unpaged.”
As a later example we may cite from
Sir Peter Leycester’s _Historical Antiquities_ (1673), where we find this note: “Reader, By reason of the author’s absence, several faults have escaped the press: those which are the most material thou art desir’d to amend, and to pardon them all.”
Printed mistakes are usually considered by the sufferers matters of somewhat
serious importance; and we picture to ourselves an author stalking up and down his room and tearing his hair when
he first discovers them; but Benserade, the French poet, was able to make a joke of the subject. This is the _rondeau_ which he placed at the end of his version of _Les Metamorphoses d’Ovide_:–
“Pour moi, parmi des fautes innombrables, Je n’en connais que deux consid
Et dont je fais ma d
C’est l’entreprise et l’ex
A mon avis fautes irr
Dans ce volume.”
According to the _Scaligerana_, Cardan’s treatise _De Subtilitate_, printed by Vascosan
in 1557, does not contain a single
misprint; but, on the whole, it may be very seriously doubted whether an immaculate
edition of any work ever issued from the press. The story is well known of the
serious attempt made by the celebrated Glasgow printers Foulis to free their edition of _Horace_ from any chance of error. They caused the proof-sheets after revision to be hung up at the gate of the University, with the offer of a reward to any one who discovered a misprint. In spite of all this care there are, according to Dibdin, six uncorrected errors in this edition.
According to Isaac Disraeli, the goal of freedom from blunders was nearly
reached by Dom Joze Souza, with the assistance of Didot in 1817, when he
published his magnificent edition of _As Lusiadas_ of Camoens. However, an
uncorrected error was discovered in some copies, occasioned by the misplacing of
one of the letters in the word _Lusitano_. A like case occurred a few years ago at an eminent London printer’s. A certain book was about to be printed, and instructions were issued that special care was to be
taken with the printing. It was read over by the chief reader, and all seemed to
have gone well, when a mistake was discovered upon the title-page.
It may be mentioned here, with respect to tables of errata, that they are frequently neglected in subsequent books. There are many books in which the same blunders
have been repeated in various editions, although they had been pointed out in an early issue.
CHAPTER VI.
MISPRINTS.
OF all literary blunders misprints
are the most numerous, and no
one who is conversant with the
inside of a printing-office will be surprised at this; in fact, he is more likely to be struck with the freedom from error of the innumerable productions issued from the
press than to be surprised at the blunders which he may come across. The possibilities of error are endless, and a frequent
cause is to be found in the final correction, when a line may easily get transposed.
On this account many authors will prefer to leave a trivial error, such as a wrong stop, in a final revise rather than risk the possibilities of blundering caused by the unlocking of the type. Of course a large number of misprints are far from amusing, while a sense of fun will sometimes be
obtained by a trifling transposition of letters. Authors must be on the alert for misprints, although ordinary misspellings should not be left for them by the printer’s reader; but they are usually too intent on the structure of their own sentences to
notice these misprints. The curious point is that a misprint which has passed through proof and revise unnoticed by reader and author will often be detected immediately the perfected book is placed in the author’s hands. The blunder which has hitherto
remained hidden appears to start out from the page, to the author’s great disgust. One reason why misprints are overlooked
is that every word is a sort of pictorial object to the eye. We do not spell the
word, but we guess what it is by the first and last letters and its length, so that a wrong letter in the body of the word is
easily overlooked.
It is an important help to the editor of a corrupt text to know what misprints are the most probable, and for this purpose
the late Mr. Halliwell Phillipps printed for private circulation _A Dictionary of Misprints, found in printed books of the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, compiled for the use of verbal critics and especially for those who are engaged in editing the works of Shakespeare and our other early Dramatists_ (1887). In the note at the
end of this book Mr. Phillipps writes: “The readiest access to those evidences will be found in the old errata, and it will be seen, on an examination of the latter, that misprints are abundant in final and initial letters, in omissions, in numerals, and in verbal transpositions; but
unquestionably the most frequent in pronouns, articles, conjunctions, and prepositions. When we come to words outside the
four latter, there is a large proportion of examples that are either of rare occurrence or unique. Some of the blunders that are recorded are sufficiently grotesque: _e.g., Ile starte thence poore for Ile starve their poore,–he formaketh what for the fire
maketh hot_. It must, indeed, be confessed that the conjectural emendator, if he
dispenses with the quasi-authority of contemporary precedents, has an all but
unlimited range for the exercise of his ingenuity, the unsettled spellings of our
ancestors rendering almost any
emendation, however extravagant, a typographical possibility. A large number of their
misprints could only have been perpetrated in the midst of the old orthographies.
Under no other conditions could _ice_ have been converted into _ye_, _air_ into _time_, _home_ into _honey_, _attain_ into _at any_, _sun_ into _sinner_, _stone_ into _story_, _deem_ into _deny_, _dire_ into _dry_, the old spellings of the italicised words being respectively, yce, yee, ayre, tyme, home, honie, attaine, att anie, sunne, sinner, stone, storie, deeme, denie, dire, drie. The form of the long _s_ should also be sometimes taken into
consideration, for it could only have been owing to its use that such a word as _some_ could have been misprinted _four, niece_ for _wife, prefer_ for _preserve, find_ for _fifth_, the variant old spellings being foure, neese, preferre.”
Among the instances of misprints given in this Dictionary may be noticed the
following: actions _for_ axioms, agreement _for_ argument, all-eyes _for_ allies, aloud _for_ allowed, banish’d _for_ ravish’d, cancel _for_ cantel, candle _for_ caudle, culsedness
_for_ ourselves, eye-sores _for_ oysters, felicity _for_ facility, Hector _for_ nectar, intending _for_ indenting, John _for_ Jehu, Judges _for_ Indies, scene _for_ seene, sixteen _for_ sexton, and _for_ sixty-one, tops _for_ toy, Venus _for_ Venice.
In connection with this work may be
mentioned the late Mr. W. Blades’s
_Shakspere and Typography, being an attempt to show Shakspere’s personal
connection with, and technical knowledge of the Art of Printing, also Remarks upon
some common typographical errors with especial reference to the text of Shakspere_ (1872), a small work of very great interest and value. Mr. Blades writes: “Now
these typographical blunders will, in the majority of cases, be found to fall into one of three classes, viz.:–
“Errors of the ear;
“Errors of the eye; and
“Errors from what, in printers’ language, is called `a foul case.’
“I. _Errors of the Ear_.–Every compositor when at work reads over a few
words of his copy, and retains them in his mind until his fingers have picked
up the various types belonging to them. While the memory is thus repeating to
itself a phrase, it is by no means
unnatural, nor in practice is it uncommon, for some word or words to become
unwittingly supplanted in the mind by others which are similar in sound. It was simply a mental transposition of syllables that made the actor exclaim,–
`My Lord, stand back and let the parson cough ‘
instead of
`My Lord, stand back and let the coffin pass’ _Richard III_., i. 2.
And, by a slight confusion of sound, the word _mistake_ might appear in type as
must take:–
`So you mistake your husbands.’
_Hamlet_, iii. 2.
Again, _idle votarist_ would easily become _idol votarist_–
`I am no idle votarist.’–_Timon_, iv. 3;
and _long delays_ become transformed to _longer days_–
`This done, see that you take no long delays. _Titus_, iv. 2.
From the time of Gutenberg until now this similarity of sound has been a fruitful source of error among printers.
“II. _Errors of the Eye_.–The eye often misleads the hand of the compositor,
especially if he be at work upon a crabbed manuscript or worn-out reprint. Take
out a dot, and _This time goes manly_ becomes
`This tune goes manly.’ _Macbeth_, iv. 3.
So a clogged letter turns _What beast was’t then_? into _What boast was’t then_?–
`Lady M. What beast was’t then, That made you break this enterprise to me?’ _Macbeth_, i. 7.
Examples might be indefinitely multiplied from many an old book, so I will quote
but one more instance. The word _preserve_ spelt with a long _s_ might without
much carelessness be misread _preferre_ (I _Henry VI_., iii. 2), and thus entirely alter the sense.
“III. _Errors from a `foul case_.’–This class of errors is of an entirely different
kind from the two former. They came from within the man, and were from the
brain; this is from without, mechanical in its origin as well as in its commission. As many readers may never have seen the
inside of a printing office, the following short explanation may be found useful:
A `case’ is a shallow wooden drawer, divided into numerous square receptacles called `boxes,’ and into each box is put one sort of letter only, say all _a_’s, or _b_’s, or _c_’s. The compositor works with two of these cases slanting up in front of him, and when, from a shake, a slip, or any
other accident, the letters become
misplaced the result is technically known as `a foul case.’ A further result is, that the fingers of the workman, although going to the proper box, will often pick up a wrong letter, he being entirely unconscious the while of the fact.
“Now, if we can discover any law which governs this abnormal position of the types –if, for instance, we can predicate that the letter _o_, when away from its own, will be more frequently found in the box appropriated to letter _a_ than any other; that _b_
has a general tendency to visit the _l_ box, and _l_ the _v_ box; and that _d_, if away from home, will be almost certainly found among the _n_’s; if we can show this, we shall then lay a good foundation for the re-examination of many corrupt or disputed readings in the text of Shakspere,
some of which may receive fresh life from such a treatment.
“To start with, let us obtain a definite idea of the arrangement of the types in
both `upper’ and `lower’ case in the time of Shakspere–a time when long _s_’s, with the logotypes _ct_, _ff_, _fi_, _ffi_, _ffl_, _sb_, _sh_, _si_, _sl_, _ss_, _ssi_, _ssl_, and others, were in daily use.”
Mr. Blades then refers to Moxon’s
_Mechanical Exercises_, 1683, which contains a representation of the compositors’
cases in the seventeenth century, which may be presumed to be the same in form
as those used in Shakespeare’s day. Various alterations have been made in
the arrangement of the cases, with the object of placing the letters more
conveniently. The present form is shown on pp. 110, 111.
Mr. Blades proceeds: “The chief cause of a `foul’ case was the same in Shakspere’s time as now; and no one interested
in the subject should omit visiting a printing office, where he could personally inspect the operation. Suppose a
compositor at work `distributing’; the upper and lower cases, one above the other,
slant at a considerable angle towards him, and as the types fall quickly from his
fingers they form conical heaps in their respective boxes, spreading out in a
manner very similar to the sand in the lower half of an hour-glass. Now, if the compositor allows his case to become too full, the topmost letters in each box will certainly slide down into the box below, and occasionally, though rarely, into one of the side boxes. When such letters
escape notice, they necessarily cause erroneous spelling, and sometimes entirely change the whole meaning of a sentence. But now comes the important question:
Are errors of this kind ever discovered, and especially do they occur in Shakspere? Doubtless they do, but to what extent a
long and careful examination alone can
UPPER CASE.
X Y Z
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 H I K L M N O 8 9 0 <1/4> <1/2> <3/4> k P Q R S T V W
LOWER CASE.
& [ ]
— e Leaders. ff b c d i s f g
ffl Leaders. fi ffi En Em
l m n h o y p , w quads. quads. Hair
spaces.
z q :
v u t thick spaces a r Large quods. x . <.>
show. As examples merely, and to show the possible change in sense made by a
single wrong letter, I will quote one or two instances:–
`Were they not _forc’d_ with those that should be ours, We might have met them darefull, beard to beard.’ _Macbeth_, v. 5.[9]
[9] Collier’s MS. corrector substituted _farc’d_ for _forc’d_.
The word _forced_ should be read _farced_, the letter _o_ having evidently dropped
down into _a_ box. The enemy’s ranks were not _forced_ with Macbeth’s followers, but _farced_ or filled up. In Murrell’s
_Cookery_, 1632, this identical word is used several times; we there see that a
farced leg of mutton was when the meat was all taken out of the skin, mixed with herbs, etc., and then the skin filled up again.
`I come to thee for charitable license . . . To booke our dead.’
_Henry V_., iv. 7.
So all the copies, but `to book’ is surely a modern commercial phrase, and the
Herald here asked leave simply to `look,’ or to examine, the dead for the purpose
of giving honourable burial to their men of rank. In the same sense Sir W. Lucie, in the First Part of _Henry VI_., says:–
`I come to know what prisoners thou hast tane, And to survey the bodies of the dead.’
We cannot imagine an officer with pen, inkhorn, and paper, at a period when few could write, `booking’ the dead. We
may, I think, take it for granted that here the letter _b_ had fallen over into the _l_ box.”
Another point to bear in mind is the
existence of such logotypes as _fi_, _si_, etc., so that, as Mr. Blades says, “the change of light into sight must not be considered as a question of a single letter–of _s_ in the _l_ box,” because the box containing _si_ is far away from the _l_ box, and their contents could not well get mixed.
To these instances given by Mr. Blades may be added a very interesting correction suggested to the author some years ago
by a Shakespearian student. When Isabella visits her brother in prison, the
cowardly Claudio breaks forth in
complaint, and paints a vivid picture of the horrors of the damned:–
“Ay, but to die, and go we know not where; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot; This sensible warm motion to become
A kneaded clod; and the _delighted spirit_ To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice; To be imprisoned in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world; or to be worse than worst Of those that lawless and incertain thoughts Imagine howling!–’tis too horrible!
The weariest and most loathed worldly life That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a paradise
To what we fear of death.”
_Measure for Measure_, act iii., sc. 1.
We have here, in the expression “delighted spirit,” a difficulty which none of
the commentators have as yet been able to explain. Warburton said that the
adjective meant “accustomed to ease and delights,” but this was not a very
successful guess, although Steevens adopted it. Sir Thomas Hanmer altered
_delighted_ to _dilated_, and Dr. Johnson
mentions two suggested emendations, one being _benighted_ and the other
_delinquent_. None of these suggestions can be corroborated by a reference to the
plans of the printers’ cases, but it will be seen that the one now proposed is much
strengthened by the position of the boxes in those plans. The suggested word is
_deleted_, which accurately describes the spirits as destroyed, or blotted out of
existence. The word is common in the printing office, and it was often used in literature.
If we think only of the recognised
spelling of the word _delighted_ we shall find that there are three letters to alter, but if we take the older spelling, _delited_, the change is very easily made, for it
will be noticed that the letters in the _i_ box might easily tumble over into the _e_ box.
There is a very curious description of hell in Bede’s _Ecclesiastical History_, where the author speaks of “deformed spirits” who leap from excess of heat to cutting
cold, and it is not improbable that Shakespeare may have had this passage in his
mind when he put these words into the mouth of Claudio.[10]
[10] An article on this point will be found in _The Antiquary_, vol. viii. (1883), p. 200.
It is taken for granted that the
compositor is not likely to put his hand into the wrong box, so that if a wrong letter is used, it must have fallen out of its
place.
An important class of misprints owes
its origin to this misplacement; but, as noticed by Mr. Blades, there are other
classes, such as misspellings caused by the compositor’s ignorance or
misunderstanding. We must remember that the printer has to work fast, and if he does not recognise a word he is very likely to turn it into something he does understand. Thus the title of a paper in the
_Philosophical Transactions_ was curiously changed in an advertisement, and the
Calamites, a species of fossil plants of the coal measures, with but slight change appeared as “The True Fructification of Calamities.” This is a blunder pretty sure to be made, and within a few days of
writing this, the author has seen a refer
ence to “Notes on some Pennsylvanian Calamities.” As an instance of less
excusable ignorance, we shall often find the word _gauge_ printed as _guage_.
One of the slightest of misprints was the cause of an odd query in the second
series of _Notes and Queries_, which, by the way, has never yet been answered. In
John Hall’s _Hor
this passage, alluding to the table game called _tick-tack_. The author wrote:
“Tick tack sets a man’s intentions on their guard. Errors in this and war can
be but once amended”; but the printer joined the two words “and war” into one, and this puzzled the correspondent of
the _Notes and Queries_ (v. 272). He asked: “Who can quote another passage
from any author containing this word? I have hunted after it in many dictionaries without avail. It means, I suppose,
antagonism or contest, and resembles in form many Anglo-Saxon words which
never found their way into English proper.” The blunder was not discovered, and
another correspondent wrote: “The word andwar would surely modernise into
_hand-
war_. Is not andirons (handirons) a parallel word of the same genus?’ In
the General Index we find “Andwar, an old English word.” So much for the long life of a very small blunder.
A very similar blunder to this of
“andwar” occurs in _Select Remains of the learned John Ray with his Life by the late William Derham_, which was published
in 1760 with a dedication to the Earl of Macclesfield, President of the Royal
Society, signed by George Scott. In Derham’s Life of Ray a list of books
read by Ray in 1667 is printed from a letter to Dr. Lister, and one of these is printed “The Business about great
Rakes.” Mr. Scott must have been
puzzled with this title; but he was evidently a man not to be daunted by a
difficulty, for he added a note to this effect: “They are now come into general use among the farmers, and are called
_drag rakes_.” Who would suspect after this that the title is merely a misprint, and that the pamphlet refers to the
proceedings of Valentine Greatrakes, the famous stroker, who claimed equal power
with the kings and queens of England in curing the king’s evil? This blunder will be found uncorrected in Dr. Lankester’s
_Memorials of John Ray_, published by the Ray Society in 1846, and does not seem
to have been suspected until the Rev. Richard Hooper called attention to it a
short time ago in _Notes and Queries_.[11]
[11] Seventh Series, iv. 225.
An amusing instance of the invention
of a new word was afforded when the printer produced the words “a noticeable fact in thisms” instead of “this MS.”
The misplacement of a stop, or the
transposition of a letter, or the dropping out of one, will make sad havoc of the
sense of a passage, as when we read of the _immoral_ works of Milton. It was,
however, a very complimentary misprint by which it was made to appear that a
certain town had a remarkably high rate of _morality_. In the address to Dr. Watts by J. Standen prefixed to that author’s
_Hor
misprint occurs, to the serious confusion of Mr. Standen’s meaning,–
“With thought sublime
And high sonorous words, thou sweetly sing’st To thy _immoral_ lyre.”
On another page of this same book
Watts’ “daring flight” is transposed to _darling flight_.
In Miss Yonge’s _Dynevor Terrace_ a
portion of one word was joined on to another with the awkward result that a
young lady is described “without stretched arms.”
The odd results of the misplacement of stops must be familiar to most readers;
but it is not often that they are so serious as in the following instances. William
Sharp, the celebrated line engraver, believed in the Divine mission of the madman Richard Brothers, and engraved a portrait of that worthy with the following inscription beneath it: “Fully believing this to be the man appointed by God, I engrave his
likeness.–W. SHARP.” The writing engraver by mistake put the comma after the word
appointed, and omitted it at the latter part of the sentence, thus giving a ludicrous effect to the whole inscription. Many
impressions were struck off before the
mistake was discovered and rectified. The question of an apostrophe was the ground of a civil action a few years ago in
Switzerland; and although the anecdote refers to a manuscript, and not to a printed document, it is inserted here because it illustrates the subject. A gentleman left a will
which ended thus: “Et pour t
_d’eux_ cent mille francs.” The paper upon which the will was written was folded up before the ink was dry, and therefore many of the letters were blotted. The legatees asserted that the apostrophe was a blot, and therefore claimed two instead of one hundred thousand francs each.
Several misprints are always recurring, such as the mixture of the words
Topography and Typography, and Biography with Bibliography. In the prospectus of
an edition of the _Waverley Novels_ we read: “The aim of the publishers has
been to make it pre-eminent, by beauty of _topography_ and illustration, as an _
de luxe_.”
Andrew Marvell published a book which
he entitled _The Rehearsal Transprosed_; but it is seldom that a printer can be induced to print the title otherwise than as _The Rehearsal Transposed_.
It must be conceded in favour of printers that some authors do write an execrable
hand. One sometimes receives a letter which requires about three readings before it can be understood. At the first time of reading the meaning is scarcely intelligible, at the second time some faint glimpse of the writer’s object in writing is obtained, and at the third time the main point of the
letter is deciphered. Such men may be deemed to be the plague of printers. A
friend of Beloe “the Sexagenarian” was remonstrated with by a printer for being the cause of a large amount of swearing
in his office. “Sir,” exclaimed Mr. A., “the moment `copy’ from you is divided
among the compositors, volley succeeds volley as rapidly and as loudly as in one of Lord Nelson’s victories.”
There is a popular notion among authors that it is not wise to write a clear hand; and M
shall appear in the works which you publish, never send well-written copy to the
printer, for in that case the manuscript is given to young apprentices, who make a
thousand errors; while, on the other hand, that which is difficult to read is dealt with by the master-printers.” It is also related that the late eminent Arabic scholar, Mr. E. W. Lane, who wrote a particularly good hand, asked his printer how it was that
there were always so many errors in his proofs. He was answered that such clear
writing was always given to the boys, as experienced compositors could not be
spared for it. The late Dean Hook held to this opinion, for when he was asked to allow a sermon to be copied out neatly for the press, he answered that if it were to be printed he would prefer to write it
out himself as badly as he could. This practice, if it ever existed, we are told by experienced printers does not exist now.
It must, one would think, have been
the badness of the “copy” that induced the compositors to turn “the nature and theory of the Greek verb” into _the native theology of the Greek verb_; “the conser
vation
of energy” into the _conversation of energy_; and the “Forest Conservancy
Branch” into the _Forest Conservatory Branch_.
Some printers go out of their way to
make blunders when they are unable to understand their “copy.” Thus, in the
_Times_, some years ago, among the contributors to the Garibaldi Fund was a bookbinder
who gave five shillings. The next
down in the list was one “A. Lega
Fletcher,” a name which was printed as _A Ledger stitcher_.
Some very extraordinary blunders have been made by the ignorant misreading
of an author’s contractions. It is said that in a certain paper which was sent
to be printed the words Indian Government were contracted as Indian Govt.
This one compositor set up throughout his turn as _Indian goat_. A writer in
one of the Reviews wrote the words “J. C. first invaded Britain,” and a worthy
compositor, who made it his business to fill up all the abbreviations, printed this as _Jesus Christ_ instead of Julius C
Here it may be remarked that some of
the most extraordinary misprints never get farther than the printing office or the study; but although they may have been
discovered by the reader or the author, they were made nevertheless.
Sometimes the fun of a misprint consists in its elaborateness and completeness,
and sometimes in its simplicity
(perhaps only the change of a letter). Of the first class the transformation of Shirley’s well-known lines is a good
example:–
“Only the actions of the just
Smell sweet and blossom in the dust.”
is scarcely recognisable as
“All the low actions of the just
Swell out and blow Sam in the dust.”
The statement that “men should work
and play Loo,” obtained from “men should work and play too,” illustrates the second class.
The version of Pope which was quoted
by a correspondent of the _Times_ about a year ago is very charming:–
“A little learning is a dangerous thing; Drink deep, or taste not the aperient spring.’
The reporter or printer who mistook the Oxford professor’s allusion to the
Eumenides, and quoted him as speaking of “those terrible old Greek goddesses–the Humanities,” was still more elaborate in his joke.
Horace Greeley is well known to have
been an exceedingly bad writer; but when he quoted the well-known line (which is
said to be equal to a florin, because there are four tizzies in it)–
“ ‘Tis true, ’tis pity, pity ’tis ’tis true,”
one might have expected the compositor to recognise the quotation, instead of
printing the astonishing calculation–
“ ‘Tis two, ’tis fifty and fifty ’tis, ’tis five.”
This is as bad as the blunder of the
printer of the Hampshire paper who is said to have announced that Sir Robert
Peel and a party of _fiends_ were engaged shooting _peasants_ at Drayton Manor.
It is perhaps scarcely fair to quote too many blunders from newspapers, which
must often be hurriedly compiled, but naturally they furnish the richest crop.
The point of a leader in an American paper was lost by a misprint, which reads as follows: “We do battle without shot or charge for the cause of the right.” This would be a very ineffectual battle, and the proper words were _without stint or change_.
A writer on Holland in one of the
magazines quoted Samuel Butler’s well- known lines–
“A country that draws fifty foot of water, . . . . . . .
In which they do not live, but go aboard,”
which the printer transformed into
“In which they do not live, but _cows abound_.”
It is of course easy to invent
misprints, and therefore one feels a little doubtful sometimes with respect to those which are quoted without chapter and
verse.
One of the most remarkable blunders
ever made in a newspaper was connected with the burial of the well-known literary man, John Payne Collier. In the _Standard_ of Sept. 21st, 1883, it was reported
that “the remains of the late Mr.
John Payne Collier were interred yesterday
in Bray Churchyard, near Maidenhead, in the presence of a large number of
spectators.” The paragraph maker of the _Eastern Daily Press_ had never heard of Payne Collier, so he thought the last name should be printed with a small C, and
wanting a heading for his paragraph he invented one straight off, and this is what appeared in that paper:–
“_The Bray Colliery Disaster_. The
remains of the late John Payne, collier, were interred yesterday afternoon in the Bray Churchyard, in the presence of a
large number of friends and spectators.”
This was a brilliant stroke of
imagination, for who would expect to find a colliery near Maidenhead?
Mr. Sala, writing to _Notes and Queries_ (Third Series, i. 365), says: “Altogether I have long since arrived at the conclusion that there are more `devils’ in a printing office than are dreamt of in our philosophy– the blunder fiends to wit–ever
busy in peppering the `formes’ with errors which defy the minutest revisions of
reader, author, sub-editor, and editor.” Mr. Sala gives an instance which occurred
to himself. He wrote that Dr.
Livingstone wore a cap with a tarnished gold lace band; but the printer altered the
word tarnished into _famished_, to the serious confusion of the passage.
Some of the most amusing blunders
occur by the change of a single letter. Thus, in an account of the danger to an
express train by a cow getting on the line in front, the reporter was made to say that as the safest course under the circumstances the engine driver “put on full
steam, dashed up against the cow, and literally cut it into _calves_.” A short time ago an account was given in an address of the early struggles of an eminent portrait painter, and the statement appeared in
print that, working at the easel from eight o’clock in the morning till eight o’clock at night, the artist “only lay down on the hearthrug for rest and refreshment between the visits of his _sisters_.” This is
not so bad, however, as the report that “a bride was accompanied to the altar by _tight_ bridesmaids.” A very odd blunder occurred in the _World_ of Oct. 6th, 1886, one which was so odd that the editor
thought it worthy of notice by himself in a subsequent number. The paragraph in
which the misprint occurred related to the filling up of the vicarage of St. Mary’s, Islington, which it was thought had been unduly delayed. The trustees in whose
gift the living is were informed that if they had a difficulty in finding a clergyman of the proper complexion of low churchism
there were still Venns in Kent. Here the natural confusion of the letters _u_ and _n_ came into play, and as the paragraph was printed it appeared that a _Venus_ of Kent was recommended for the vicarage
of St. Mary’s.
The compositor who set up the account of a public welcome to a famous orator
must have been fresh from the study of Porson’s _Catechism of the Swinish Multitude_ when he set yp the damaging statement
that “the crowd rent the air with
their _snouts_.”
Sometimes the blunder consists not in the misprint of a letter, but in a mere
transposition, as when an eminent herald and antiquary was dubbed _Rogue Croix_
instead of _Rouge Croix_. Sometimes a
new but appropriate word results by the thrusting into a recognised word of a
redundant letter, as when a man died from eating too much goose the verdict was
said to have been “death from stuffocation.”
Many of these blunders, although
amusing to the public, cannot have been altogether agreeable to the subjects of them. Mr. Justice Wightman could not have
been pleased to see himself described as _Mr. Justice Nightman_; and the right reverend prelate who was stated “to be
highly pleased with some ecclesiastical _iniquities_ shown to him” must have been considerably scandalised.
Professor Hales is very much of the
opinion of Mr. Sala respecting the labours of the “blunder fiend,” and he sent an amusing letter to the _Athen
he pointed out a curious misprint in one of his own books. As the contents of the letter is very much to the point, readers will perhaps not object to seeing it
transferred in its entirety to these pages:–
“The humour of compositors is apt to be imperfectly appreciated by authors, because
it rather interferes with what the author wishes to say, although it may often say something better. But there is no reason why the general reader should not
thoroughly enjoy it. Certainly it ought to be more generously recognised than it is. So many persons at present think of it
as merely accidental and fortuitous, as if there was no mind in it, as if all the
excellent things loosely described as _errata_, all the _curios
texts, were casual blunders. Such a view reminds one of the way in which the last- century critics used to speak of Shakspere –the critics who give him no credit for design or selection, but thought that somehow or other he stumbled into greatness.
However, I propose now not to attempt the defence, or, what might be worth the effort, the analysis of this species of Wit, but only to give what seemed an admirable instance of it.
“In a note to the word _limboes_ in the Clarendon Press edition of Milton’s
_Areopagitica_, I quoted from Nares’s Glossary a list of the various _limbi_ believed
in by the `old schoolmen,’ and No. 2
was `a _limbus patrum_ where the fathers of the Church, saints, and martyrs, awaited the general resurrection.’ Will any one
say it was not a stroke of genius in some printing-office humourist to alter the last word into `_in_surrection’?
“Like all good wit, this change is so suggestive. It raises up a cloud of new
ideas, and reduces the hearer to a delightful confusion. How strangely it revises
all our popular notions! If even beyond the grave the great problems that keep
men here restless and murmuring are not solved! If even there the rebellious spirit is not quieted! Nay, if those whom we
think of as having won peace for themselves in this world, do in that join the
malcontents, and are each one biding their time–
“May we not conceive this bold jester, if haply he were a stonemason, chiselling on some tombstone `_In_surgam’?”
Allusion has already been made to the persistency of misprints and the difficulty of curing them; but one of the most
curious instances of this may be found in a line of Byron’s beautiful apostrophe to the ocean in _Childe Harold_ (Canto iv.). The one hundred and eighty-second
stanza is usually printed:–
“Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee–