The method of reading will, we think, be sufficiently exemplified if we give but one line. We select the third, which should be read by the copy-holder, as follows:

Cap. K, a, grave i; t, acute u, m, b, long o subscript; k, r, long e, p, circumflex i, d, a; p, short e, r, acute i, g, r, a, ph, short e; cap. P, short e, r, s, i, k, grave short o, n; cap. smooth acute A, r, long e.

Words from dead and foreign languages, introduced into English text, are printed in italics, until, being frequently met, they cease to be strangers; then printers and proof-readers anglicify them as much as possible, by printing them in roman; but some of these retain certain accents which indicate their alien origin. The Spanish cañon is completely anglicized into “canyon” (o as in no); our miners write “arrastra” in roman, although the term has not yet found its way into our most popular dictionaries; our dreadful accident-makers have set afloat so many “canards,” that that word has become better English than French; “papier-mache” usually appears in roman without the accent on the final e; employé {p57} has become a good “employee” in our workshops; and at an early day, every “protégé” and “protégée,” already roman, will throw off the foreign accents, and remain none the less acute “protegees”; “éclat,” “régime,” and “résumé” still cling to their acute e’s. Many words and phrases are hesitating whether to remain foreigners, or to become naturalized. They have “taken out their first papers,” as it were, having at times appeared in English garb.

It would be vastly convenient for every compositor and proof-reader (every author, of course, reads proof) to have at hand two lists of such Latin and foreign words as most frequently occur in books, magazines, and newspapers,—the one containing the words to be set up in italics, the other, words to “go in roman,” as the phrase is. We append two such lists, as samples rather than as fixities to be followed, although they represent very nearly, if not exactly, the present status of the class of words we are considering. The roman list is destined to be continually lengthening, while the italic, save as it receives new accretions from foreign sources, must be correspondingly diminishing.

CHAPTER III. STYLE.

Before beginning to read proof, a man usually prepares himself by learning how to make the technical marks used in correcting; he then reads a chapter on the use of capitals; takes up a grammar, and reviews the rules of punctuation; and by reading, and conversing with readers, gets such helps as give him a good degree of confidence. But at the very threshold of his duties he is met by a little “dwarfish demon” called “Style,” who addresses him somewhat after this fashion: “As you see me now, so I have appeared ever since the first type was set in this office. Everything here must be done as I say. You may mark as you please, but don’t violate the commands of Style. I may seem to disappear for a time, when there is a great rush of work, and you may perhaps bring yourself to believe that Style is dead. But do not deceive yourself,—Style never dies. When everything is going merrily, and you are rejoicing at carrying out some pet plan of your own, you will find me back again, tearing the forms to pieces, and again asserting my irrevocable authority. Stick to my orders, and all will be well. Don’t tell me of grammarians or lex­i­cog­raphers; say nothing of better ways, or improvements or {p60} progress. I am Style, and my laws are like those of the Medes and Persians.” And Style states his true character.

Unfortunately for the proof-reader, Style seldom writes his laws; or, if at any time written, their visible form presently perishes, and they can only be got at, as one may learn the common law of England, through past decisions. You, my young friend, may in vain consult old proofs; works formerly read, at the desk you now occupy, by some vanished predecessor. Your searching cannot help you much; for authors being without the jurisdiction, are independent of the authority, of Style,—they may allow him to dominate over their works, or they may not. How, then, are you to distinguish, and select as models, those which were read under the direct supervision of Style? In the course of a few years you may come to know a portion of his laws; but the whole code is past finding out.

To drop the personification, every office has a style—an arrangement of details—peculiar to itself. In one, “Government” is spelled with a capital; in a second, “government” is spelled with a lower-case “g”; in this office, the four seasons are always “Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter”; in that, they are “spring, summer,” etc., having capitals only when personified: and so of a thousand other cases in cap­i­tal­i­za­tion. In this office, before a quoted extract we put a colon and dash, thus:—while, in the office across the way, the style is to put a colon only: and, a little farther on, is an office which uses {p61} only the dash—yet a fourth, round the corner, puts a comma and dash, thus,—while a fifth undertakes to use all these and even additional methods, as the period, the semicolon, and dash, selecting as the sense or convenience or caprice may dictate.⁠[6] Here, the style requires a comma before and, in “pounds, shillings, and pence”; there, the style is “pounds, shillings and pence.” “Viz,” in Mr. A.’s office, is considered a contraction, and is printed “viz.”—with the period; in Mr. B.’s office, it is not a contraction, and the period is not used; in Mr. C.’s office, “viz” is put entirely under the ban, and compositors and proof-readers are directed to substitute for it the word “namely,” in all cases. As regards orthography, two styles—the Worcester and Webster—have, in almost all offices, alternate sway; and—which complicates matters still more—everywhere there is an “office style.” Each “rules a moment; chaos umpire sits,” etc.