The Importance of the Proof-reader A Paper read before the Club of Odd Volumes, in Boston, by John Wilson

In preparing a work for the press, the author, the compositor, and the proof-reader are the three factors that enter into its construction. We will, however, treat more especially of the last-named in connection with the first.

The true proof-reader should not only be a practical printer, but he should be a lover of literature, familiar with the classics of all languages, with the results accomplished by science, and indeed with every subject that concerns his fellow-men. When an author prepares a work for the press, he often uses many abbreviations, his capitalization is frequently incorrect, his spelling occasionally not in accordance either with Worcester or Webster, his punctuation inaccurate, his historical and biographical statements careless, and his chirography frequently very bad. In such cases the proof-reader is sorely tried; and unless he is a man of much patience, well versed in the art of deciphering incorrigible manuscripts, and supplying all their deficiencies, his last state will, to speak mildly, be worse than his first.

It is said that, when Charles Dudley Warner was the editor of the "Hartford Press," back in the "sixties," arousing the patriotism of the State with his vigorous appeals, one of the type-setters came in from the composing-room, and, planting himself before the editor, said: "Well, Mr. Warner, I've decided to enlist in the army." With mingled sensations of pride and responsibility, Mr. Warner replied encouragingly that he was glad to see the man felt the call of duty. "Oh, it isn't that," said the truthful compositor, "but I'd rather be shot than try to set any more of your damned copy."

As an example of what I mean by bad MS. I take the liberty of showing you one page of a work which, unfortunately, I had agreed to print. This is a sample of one half of a work of 1000 MS. pages. When the author offered me, a few years later, another work similarly prepared, I declined, with thanks, to accept it.

Another illustration of careless writing I copy from "Harper's Young People":--

A Massachusetts clergyman nearly got himself into a peck of trouble because of the bad quality of his handwriting. It was more than a century ago that he had occasion to address a letter to the General Court of Massachusetts upon some subject of great interest at that time. When the letter was received, the court ordered the clerk to read it, and were filled with wrath at what appeared to be these words in opening: "I address you not as magistrates, but as Indian devils."

"What!" they cried. "Read that over again. How does he address us?"

"Not as magistrates, but as Indian devils," repeated the clerk. "That's what he says."

The letter was passed around, and the judges were by no means pleased to see that the clerk had apparently made no mistake. Very angry at what they believed to be an insult, the judges passed a vote of censure upon the clergyman, and wrote to him demanding an apology. He came before them in person, when it turned out that where the judges had read "Indian devils" he had written "individuals," which, of course, made an apology unnecessary; but the reverend gentleman was admonished to improve his handwriting if he wished to keep out of trouble.

Still another case of "blind copy" furnished to the printer, resulted in making the title "Pilgrim's Progress" to appear in "cold type" as "Religious Rogues."

The "Philadelphia Press" relates the following: "Recently an editor of a morning paper wrote an article on the Boer question, and headed it, 'The British Army won a Victory that was Remarkable.' To his surprise he found that the printer made it read, 'The British Army won a Victory. That was Remarkable!' The infuriated editor told his foreman that he must be in sympathy with the Boers."

Many intelligent persons regard the duty of a proof-reader as consisting in simply following his copy and in securing the proper spelling of words. If this, however, were the sum of his accomplishments, many an author would come to grief. Recently an author, quoting the expression, "God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb," attributed it to the Bible; but the proof-reader queried the authority and wrote in the margin, "Sterne," which the author had the good sense gratefully to accept. Young men and women, recent graduates of colleges, have sometimes requested me to introduce them to publishers desiring to issue translations of certain books in foreign languages; but knowing how superficial often is the linguistic attainment of the college graduate, making him incapable of rendering correctly into English the spirit and the letter of a foreign tongue, I have respectfully declined. I may say, and with accuracy, that scarcely a translation is made which does not show some blunder more or less appalling.

The French word "bois" means wood. In a certain sentry-box several soldiers had died, and, to prevent the supposed contagion from spreading, Napoleon ordered the bois to be burned. The translator rendered the word bois as forest; which would have led the reader to suppose that the whole forest was burned. The proof-reader, after consulting the French text, suggested the substitution of "sentry-box" for "forest." The change was made, and the meaning of the original was thus restored.

A German professor, who prided himself on his knowledge not only of the classics, but of modern languages, translated the New Testament expression "The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak" into, "The ghost indeed is willing, but the meat is bad." If he had said, in the light of some modern achievements, "the meat is embalmed," he might have hit the nail on the head.

A gentleman who was in Venice when the news of the destruction of Admiral Cervera's squadron came, and who could not make out the Italian account very well, took the paper to a certain professor who speaks almost perfect scholar's-English, and asked him to translate it. The professor did so in excellent style until he came near the end, when, with a little hesitation, he read, "And the band played The Flag with the Stars on it, and It will be very warm in the City this Evening." It was about a minute before the gentleman recognized the proper title of the last piece, "There'll be a hot Time in the old Town to-night."

In the cases cited, and in very many others, the proof-reader has shown himself to be "a power behind the throne;" for, without his aid, innumerable errors would have occurred.

A writer on Punctuation, many years ago, said that, "Perhaps there never existed on any subject, among men of learning, a greater difference of opinion than on the true mode of punctuation, and scarcely can any two persons be brought to agree on the same method; some making the pause of a semicolon where the sense will only bear a comma; some contending for what is termed stiff pointing, and others altogether the reverse." To-day, however, this variety of opinion is less chaotic; for since then several works on Punctuation have been published, showing that there are rules or laws determining the construction of sentences and aiding the reader to understand more readily the true meaning of the writer.

As you are aware, there is a great difference between grammatical and rhetorical punctuation. The former is for the eye, the latter for the ear. Leading actors, in preparing their plays for the stage, always punctuate rhetorically, to indicate to the speaker of the lines the pauses necessary for effect. The art of true punctuation is, however, founded on grammar, its aim being to assist the reader to discover the true meaning of a sentence.

To illustrate this matter of rhetorical punctuation, let me instance the expression, "No, sir." The grammatical reading is, "No, O sir," whereas the rhetorical reading is, "No sir." The expression "The Oak, one day, said to the Reed," rhetorically read, will be, "The Oak one day, said to the Reed." In the latter case, the reader makes one day the name of the oak,--putting the two nouns in apposition as meaning one thing. In the Lord's Prayer, it is not uncommon to see a comma after the words, kingdom, power, and glory; as, "For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever and ever." Rhetorically, and to give force and emphasis to each expression, a pause in reading is necessary; but, grammatically, the comma is inaccurate.

Writers sometimes, and frequently proof-readers, blunder in the proper use of the exclamations, O and Oh. The former should be used only in cases of invocation, as, "O Lord!" "O my countrymen!"--the latter in cases of emotion, as, "Oh that I had the wings of a dove, that I might fly to the uttermost parts of the earth!"--"Oh for a lodge in some vast wilderness!"

It is not, perhaps, surprising that errors in grammar should be frequently seen on signs; as, for instance, "House to Let," which should be, "House to be Let." A person can "Let" the house to another; but he who occupies it cannot say that he "Lets" it. Occasionally are seen on painted signs the words Billiards, Groceries, with an apostrophe before the letter s; and even in classic Cambridge this sign was to be seen at one time, "Students Tickets can be had here," without the apostrophe after the letter s in the word Students. The other day, in Harvard Square, was to be seen the sign, "Students Furniture," also without the apostrophe. Under the portrait of Admiral Dewey, during his reception in Boston, were the words, "Our Nations Hero," without the apostrophe before the letter s. If authors and proof-readers occasionally nod, why should not also the people?

The colloquial inquiry, "Where do you live?" should be, "Where do you reside?"--for we live everywhere, but we reside only at one place.

A not uncommon error is made even by noted writers in the misuse of the article a before the word historical; as, "In a historical address at the observance of the centennial of Washington's death." We can say, "A history of," etc., for the accent is on the first syllable; but in the expression, "An historical," the accent being on the second syllable, good taste and euphony demand the article an.

Occasionally a writer will split his infinitive; as, "We were to cautiously and quickly advance to the hill above," instead of, "We were to advance cautiously and quickly to the hill above;" "You must not expect to always have things as you would like to have them," instead of, "You must not expect to have always things as you would like to have them." It is claimed by some writers, however, that it is not only correct to separate the infinitive from the verb, but that such construction adds force to the sentence; as, "A pure heart is necessary if we wish to thoroughly enjoy the beauties of nature," in place of to enjoy thoroughly, etc.

Many errors are also made by incorrect application of punctuation marks; as, for instance: An auctioneer, who had a buggy for sale, placed the sign, "_Buggy! for Sale_," on an old bedstead near his door. In a short time his attention was drawn to the blunder by the laughter of some who passed. He readily perceived his error, and promptly made the correction. Examples of this kind are countless, of which I here give a few: "Woman, without her man, is a brute," should be, "Woman,--without her, man is a brute." A child being asked, "Why should we love God?" replied, "Because He makes preserves, and redeems us," when he should have said, "Because He makes, preserves, and redeems us." A blacksmith, passing by a barber's shop, observed in the window an imprinted placard, which he read as follows:--