The best proof-readers are usually those who have had some experience as compositors, and thus know from experience the errors most likely to be made, and the manner of correcting them so as to cause the least delay. Proof-reading requires a very unusual association of qualifications. The really good proof-reader must be perfectly acquainted with his own language, and have some general knowledge of almost all others, besides of the dialects of his own. He must have a general acquaintance with literature and be able to confirm every quotation, and have the dictionary and gazeteer at his fingers' ends. He must have an eye which nothing escapes (technically called a typographical eye), and be able to detect and correct the errors made by both author and compositor,—and the number by the former is usually not inconsiderable. And withal he must have a temper which nothing can ruffle, a power of centring his attention on the dryest matter read for the second and third time, and determination sufficient to see that every correction indicated is duly made—and this last is by no means the least of his necessary qualifications.
In the early days of printing, the proof-readers were eminent scholars, and it was no unusual thing for a proof to pass through the hands of several of the most learned men of the time and neighborhood before the sheets were printed. It is related of Raphelingus, a distinguished scholar who was engaged in reading proofs in Antwerp about 1558, that he declined the professorship of Greek at Cambridge, preferring to correct the text of the oriental languages. Plantin, of Antwerp, and Stephens, of Paris, used to expose publicly the sheets of their books, offering a reward to any who would discover errors in them. But it is very seldom, if ever, that a work is issued from the press absolutely typographically perfect. In this respect the Oxford edition of the Bible is said to be the most successful work published.
Many are the ludicrous and mortifying mistakes made in printing. Erasmus, rather unfortunately for himself, corrected his own proofs, with such a result that he declared that either the devil presided over typography or that there was diabolical malice on the part of the printers. Perhaps the most astonishing example of bad proofreading was the edition of the vulgate edited by Pope Sixtus V. His Holiness carefully supervised every sheet of this wonderful edition before it was sent to the press, and to stamp it with his authority fulminated a bull that any printer who, in reprinting the work, should make any alteration in the text would be excommunicated. This was printed as a preface to the first volume of the work. Isaac Disraeli, in his "Curiosities of Literature," says, in referring to this circumstance, that "To the amazement of the world, the work remained without a rival—it literally swarmed with errata. A multitude of scraps were printed to paste over the erroneous passages in order to give the true text. The book makes a whimsical appearance with these patches; and the heretics exulted in this demonstration of papal infallibility! The copies were called in, and violent attempts made to suppress it; a few still remain for the raptures of the Bible collectors. Not long ago the Bible of Sixtus V. fetched above sixty guineas—not too much for a mere book of blunders."
Another historical erratum was an intentional one made by a printer's widow in Germany, at whose house a new edition of the Bible was being printed. At night she stole into the office and altered the passage—Genesis III., 16—which makes Eve subject to Adam, by taking out the two first letters of the word Herr, used in German, and substituting in their place Na. The passage thus improved read: "and he shall be thy fool," instead of, "and he shall be thy lord," as it should have been. It is said that this woman was punished by decapitation. Perhaps the most striking error of all in any edition of the Bible was the omission of the negation in the seventh commandment in one instance. This edition was very effectively suppressed.
PLACING "MATTER" IN "TURTLE."
In reporting Parliament some ten years ago, one of our morning papers contained a statement to the effect that the Hon. Mr. Holton said he had no doubt that Mr. Morris was tight (right), a single letter proving very derogatory both to the speaker and to the very highly respected gentleman to whom he referred.
When the proofs have been read and the errors corrected, or supposed to have been corrected, the "matter" is placed in the forms. Those, for the "rotary" press used in the Witness office, form segments of the central cylinder of the press, and from their resemblance to a turtle shell are called "turtles." The type is placed in the form piece by piece, the different kinds of matter each in its proper place. This is a matter requiring both skill, care and ability, so that paragraphs are all placed under their proper headings, and that two articles do not become "mixed up," as sometimes happens. There have been many illustrations of the evil effects of such a medley, but none hardly equal to that given by Max Adeler, which, we presume, has been subjected to some ingenious improvement. He says:
"The Argus is in complete disgrace with all the people who attend our church. Some of the admirers of Rev. Dr. Hopkins, the clergyman, gave him a gold-headed cane a few days ago, and a reporter of the Argus was invited to be present. Nobody knows whether the reporter was temporarily insane, or whether the foreman, in giving out the 'copy,' mixed it accidently with an account of a patent hog-killing machine which was tried in Wilmington on that same day, but the appalling result was that the Argus, next morning, contained the following obscure but very dreadful narrative:
"'Several of Rev. Dr. Hopkins friends called upon him yesterday, and after a brief conversation the unsuspicious hog was seized by the hind legs and slid along a beam until he reached the hot water tank. His friends explained the object of their visit, and presented him with a very handsome gold-headed butcher, who grabbed him by the tail, swung him round, slit his throat from ear to hear, and in less than a minute the carcass was in the water. Thereupon he came forward and said that there were times when the feelings overpowered one, and for that reason he would not attempt to do more than thank those around him, for the manner in which such a huge animal was cut into fragments was simply astonishing. The doctor concluded his remarks, when the machine seized him, and in less time than it takes to write it the hog was cut into fragments and worked up into delicious sausage. The occasion will long be remembered by the doctor's friends as one of the most delightful of their lives. The best pieces can be procured for fifteen cents a pound, and we are sure that those who have sat so long under his ministry still rejoice that he has been treated so handsomely.'"