Chapter VI: Part 6

But the most deep-seated opposition to changing our current spelling arises from its association, almost identification, with English literature. If this objection were valid it would be final, for literature is the highest use of language, and if reformed spelling means the loss of our literature we should be foolish to submit to it. But at what point in the history of English literature would reformed spelling begin to work harm? Hardly before Shakespeare, for the spelling of Chaucer belongs to the grammatical stage of the language at which he wrote, and Spenser's spelling is more or less an imitation of it made with a literary purpose. Shakespeare and Milton, however, wrote substantially modern English, and they are therefore at the mercy of the spelling reformer--as they always have been. The truth is, Shakespeare's writings have been respelt by every generation that has reprinted them, and the modern spelling reformer would leave them at least as near to Shakespeare's spelling as our current spelling is. The poet himself made fun of his contemporaries who said _det_ instead of _debt_, but what would he say of us who continue to write the word _debt_, though it has not been so pronounced for three hundred years? In old editions (and how fast editions grow old!) antiquated spelling is no objection, it is rather an attraction; but new, popular editions of the classics will be issued in contemporary spelling so long as the preservation of metre and rhyme permit. We still occasionally turn to the first folio of Shakespeare and to the original editions of Milton's poems to enjoy their antique flavor, and, in the latter case, to commune not only with a great poet, but also with a vigorous spelling reformer. Thus, whatever changes come over our spelling, standard old editions will continue to be prized and new editions to be in demand. But for the most part, though we might not readily understand the actual speech of Shakespeare and Milton, could we hear it, we like to treat them as contemporaries and read their works in our everyday spelling.

Our libraries, under spelling reform, will become antiquated, but only a little faster than they are now doing and always have done. Readers who care for a book over ten years old are few in number and will not mind antiquated spelling in the future any more than they do now. The printer, therefore, must not flatter himself with the prospect of a speedy reprinting of all the English classics in the new spelling. English is certain to have some day as scientific a spelling as German, but the change will be spread over decades and will be too gradual to affect business appreciably. On the other hand, he need not fear any loss to himself in the public's gain of the annual hundred million dollar tax which it now pays for the luxury of superfluous letters. Our printer's bills in the future will be as large as at present, but we shall get more for our money.

It will indeed be to the English race a strange world in which the spelling book ends with the alphabet; in which there is no conflict of standards except as regards pronunciation; in which two years of a child's school life are rescued from the needless and applied to the useful; in which the stenographer has to learn not two systems of spelling, but only two alphabets; in which the simplicity and directness of the English language, which fit it to become a world language, will not be defeated by a spelling that equals the difficulty of German grammar; in which the blundering of Dutch printers, like _school_, false etymologies, like _rhyme_, and French garnishes, as in _tongue_, no longer make the judicious grieve; and in which the fatal gift of bad spelling, which often accompanies genius, will no longer be dependent upon the printer to hide its orthographic nakedness from a public which, if it cannot always spell correctly itself, can always be trusted to detect and ridicule bad spelling. But it is a world which the English race will some day have, and which we may begin to have here and now if we will.

THE PERVERSITIES OF TYPE

That searching analyst of the soul, Edgar Allan Poe, found among the springs of human nature the quality of perverseness, the disposition to do wrong because it is wrong; in reality, however, Poe's Imp of the Perverse is active far beyond the boundaries of the human soul; his disturbances pervade the whole world, and nowhere are they more noticeable than in the printing office. This is so because elsewhere, when things fall out contrary to rule, the result may often be neutral or even advantageous; but in the printing office all deviations, or all but a minute fraction, are wrong. They are also conspicuous, for, though the standard is nothing less than perfection, the ordinary human eye is able to apply the standard. These tricks of the malicious imp are commonly called "misprints," "printer's errors," "errors of the press," or, more impartially, "errata" or "corrigenda." In the first three names there is a tinge of unfairness, because the printer is by no means responsible for all the mistakes that appear in type. The author is usually partly to blame and may be chiefly; yet when he suffers a lapse of memory or knowledge, he usually passes it off as a "printer's error." Sometimes the author's handwriting may mislead the printer, but when so good a biblical scholar as Mr. Gladstone wrote of _Daniel_ in the fiery furnace, there was no possibility that the single name could have stood in his manuscript for the names of the three men whose trial is mentioned in the _book_ of Daniel. Even here the submission of proof fixes the final responsibility on the author. But, quite apart from the responsibility for them, the mistakes embalmed in type are among the most interesting of all literary curiosities.

Misprints--to use the handiest term--range in importance from the innocent and obvious, like a turned _a_, and the innocent and obvious only to the expert, like a turned _s_, to a turned _n_, which may be mistaken for a _u_, or the change or omission of a punctuation mark, which may involve claims to thousands of dollars. Even the separation of one word into two may reverse the meaning of the sentence, yet not betray itself by any oddity of phrase, as when the atheist who had asserted that "God is nowhere" found himself in print standing sponsor for the statement that "God is now here." The same trick of the types was played on an American political writer in his own paper regarding his pet reform, which he meant to assert was "nowhere in existence." The earliest printed books were intended to be undistinguishable from manuscripts, but occasionally a turned letter betrayed them absolutely. In the same way the modern newspaper now and then introduces an unintentional advertisement of the linotype by presenting to its readers a line upside down. Another trick is the mixing of two paragraphs, which sometimes occurs even in books. The most famous instance of this blunder is probably that which happened in the English "Men of the Time" for 1856, and which led to a serious lawsuit against the publishers. The printer had mixed the biographies of the Bishop of Oxford and Robert Owen the Socialist in such a way that Bishop Wilberforce was called "a sceptic as it regards religious revelation." The mistake occurred in locking up the forms. Doubtless both biographies had been approved by their subjects, but apparently no proof was read after the fatal telescoping of the two articles.

The last instance is an example of the patient waiting as much as the ingenuity of the Imp of the Perverse, but in pure ingenuity he is without a rival in mere human inventiveness. It certainly was a resourceful Frenchman who translated "hit or miss" as "frappé ou mademoiselle," and it was inspired ignorance on the part of a student assistant in a college library who listed "Sur l'Administration de M. Necker, par Lui Même" under "Même, Lui," as if it were the name of the author of the book instead of being the French for "himself." But the Imp of the Perverse aims higher than this. He did not hesitate in an edition of the Bible published in London in 1631 to leave the _not_ out of the one commandment from which its absence would be the most noticeable. This was much worse than leaving out the whole commandment, for it transformed a moral prohibition into an immoral command. The printer in this case was fined three hundred pounds, or five hundred dollars for each letter omitted. It is curious that the _same_ omission was made in an edition of the Bible printed at Halle. A Vermont paper, in an obituary notice of a man who had originally come from Hull, Mass., was made by the types to state that "the body was taken to Hell, where the rest of the family are buried." In the first English Bible printed in Ireland, "Sin no more" appears as "Sin on more." It was, however, a deliberate joke of some Oxford students which changed the wording in the marriage service from "live" to "like," so that a couple married out of this book are required to live together only so long as they "both shall like." An orator who spoke of "our grand mother church" was made to say "our grandmother church." The public of Brown University was recently greatly amused by a local misprint. The president of the university is required by its ancient charter to be an "antipaedobaptist"; the types reproduced the word as "antipseudobaptist," a word which would be a very good Greek rendering of "hardshell." An express train at full speed having struck a cow, the report was made to say that it "cut her into calves." Sixty years ago the "London Globe" made the Registrar General say that the city was suffering from a high rate of _morality_. The ingenuity of our readers will supply the missing letter, as it also will the the true reading of the following passage which appeared in an English newspaper: "Sir Robert Peel has been out with a party of fiends shooting peasants." It was an easy but astonishing blunder made in German, in the substitution of "Mädchen" (girls) for "Mächten" (powers), according to which Bismarck was asserted to be "trying to keep up honest and straightforward relations with all the girls."

The Imp of the Perverse, when he descends upon the printing office, sometimes becomes the Imp of the Perverted. Here his achievements will not bear reproducing. Suffice it to say that in point of indecency he displays the same superhuman ingenuity as in his more innocent pranks. His indecencies are all, indeed, in print, but fortunately scattered, and it would be a groveling nature that should seek to collect them; yet the absence of this chapter from the world's book of humor means the omission of a comic strain that neither Aristophanes nor Rabelais has surpassed. Even as I write, a newspaper misprint assures me that typesetting machines are no protection against the Imp of the Perverted. Perhaps we may be pardoned the reproduction of one of the mildest of these naughtinesses. A French woman novelist had written: "To know truly what love is, we must go out of ourselves" (sortir de soi). The addition of a single letter transformed this eminently respectable sentiment into the feline confession: "To know truly what love is, we must go out nights" (sortir de soir).

Sometimes the Blunder Sprite deliberately pits himself against author, proof reader, and all their allies. The books printed by Aldus are famous for their correctness, yet a few errors crept into them, so much to the disgust of the great printer that he said he would gladly have given a gold crown for each one to be rid of them. The famous Oxford University Press is said to have posted up the first sheet of one of its Bibles, with the offer of a guinea for every misprint that could be found in it. None was found--until the book was printed. James Lenox, the American collector, prided himself on the correctness of his reprint of the autograph manuscript of "Washington's Farewell Address," which he had acquired. On showing the book to Henry Stevens, the bookseller, the latter, glancing at a page, inquired, "Why pap_a_r instead of pap_e_r?" Mr. Lenox was overwhelmed with mortification; but Stevens sent for a skillful bookbinder, who removed the objectionable _a_ and with a camel's hair pencil substituted an _e_ for it, so that the demon was conquered after all, but only through great trouble. How would it seem possible to reissue a printed book, copy it exactly, and yet make an atrocious blunder? The Type Spirit is equal to even this feat. The book was a mathematical one, full of formulae. It was not reproduced page for page, so it was perfectly easy for a signature mark to get printed and appear in the middle of a page mixed up with an equation, to the confusion of American mathematical scholarship. More tragic were the misprints in a work by the Italian poet, Guidi, which are said to have hastened his death. In an interesting volume by Henry B. Wheatley on "Literary Blunders," the Tricksy Puck of the Press has revenged himself on the author for his attacks by smuggling in a number of misprints, among them one that he must have inspired in the mind of the author, the spelling "Bride of Lammermuir," which has no warrant in Scott's novel itself. In the same book is a reference to Shakespeare that diligent search fails to verify. Thus no knowledge or skill avails against the Kobold of the Case. The most baffling device of the imp is to cause a new error in the process of correcting an old one. This residuary misprint is one against which there is no complete protection. When General Pillow returned from Mexico he was hailed by a Southern editor as a "battle-scarred veteran." The next day the veteran called upon him to demand an apology for the epithet actually printed, "battle-scared." What was the horror of the editor, on the following day, to see the expression reappear in his apology as "bottle-scarred"!

Occasionally, however, the mischief maker takes a notion to improve the copy set before him. The world will never know how often this has happened, for authors are just as willing to take credit for excellencies not their own as to lay on the printer the blame for their own oversights. In one of Artemus Ward's articles he had spoken of a starving prisoner as appealing for something to eat. The proof rendered it something to _read_. The humorist accepted the substitution as an additional absurdity. The French poet, Malherbe, once welcomed a misprint as an improvement on what he had written. There can be no doubt that, had there been no misprints in Shakespeare's quartos and folios, half the occupation of Shakespeare scholarship would have been lacking. Sometimes the original manuscript turns up--unfortunately not in Shakespeare's case--to confute some or all of the ingenious editors. A learned professor changed the word "unbodied" in Shelley's "Skylark" to "embodied," and some critics approved the change; but the poet's manuscript in the Harvard University Library makes the former reading clear beyond question. One might say that in these cases the Imp of the Perverse plants himself like a fatal microbe in the brain of the unfortunate editor. When that brilliant work, "The Principles of Success in Literature," by George Henry Lewes, appeared in the "Fortnightly Review," the expression "tilt stones from a cart" (used to describe careless writing) was printed with _l_ as the first letter. When the chapters were reissued in America, the proofreader, warned by the presence of numerous other gross misprints, naturally corrected the meaningless "lilt" to the obvious and natural "tilt." This change at first escaped the attention of the American editor, who in the second edition insisted on restoring the original misprint and even defended his misjudgment in a note. It is worth adding that the Oxford English Dictionary takes the misprint as too obvious for comment and quotes the passage under "tilt."

The most daring feat of the typographic Angel of the Odd--to adopt another of Poe's expressions--is the creation of what Professor Skeat called "ghost words," that is, words that seem to exist but do not. A misprint in Scott's "Monastery" of "morse" for "nurse" was accepted without question by readers and gravely explained by scholars. Some of these words, of which there are scores, are due to the misreading of crabbed manuscripts, but not a few have originated in the printing office. It must be remembered that they make their way into the dictionaries. For another instance let the reader open Worcester's Dictionary to the word _phantomnation_. He will see it defined as "illusion" and referred to Pope. In Webster's Dictionary, however, he will learn its true character, as a ghost word formed by running together the two words _phantom nation_.

The printing of poetry involves all the possible mistakes liable to prose and, owing to the form of poetry, some new ones. Thus in Pickering's Aldine edition of Milton, two words of one line in "Samson Agonistes" are dropped down into the next, making the two lines of uneven length and very much hurting the emphasis. The three-volume reprint of this edition dutifully copies the misprint. In the Standard edition of Dr. Holmes's "Works" printed at the Riverside Press, in the unusual case of a poem in stanzas being broken up into a dialogue, the end of one speech, carried over to the following page, has been assigned to the next speaker, thus spoiling both the sense and the metre. The most extraordinary instance that has ever come under my eye occurs in a special edition of John Hay's "Poems," issued as a college prize volume and very elegantly printed at a well-known press. One poem has disappeared entirely except a single stanza, which has been attached to another poem with which it has no connection, not even agreeing with it in metre.

The list of errata, the printer's public confession of fault, is rather rare in modern books, but this is due as much to the indifference of the public as to better proofreading. When Edwin Arnold's "Light of Asia" took the reading world by storm, a New York reprint was issued, which we commend to anyone looking for classical examples of misprinted books. It averages perhaps a gross misprint to every page. Possibly extreme haste to beat the Boston edition in the market may have suggested dispensing with the proof reader. Of course a publisher who could so betray his customers would never offer them even the partial amends of a list of errata. Sometimes the errors are picked up while the book is still in press, and in that case the list of errata can be printed as an extension of the text; sometimes the best that can be done is to print it on a separate slip or sheet and either insert it in the book or supply it to purchasers. Both these things happened in the case of that early American book, Mather's "Magnalia." The loose list of errata was printed on the two inner pages of one fold the size of the book. In the two hundred years that have elapsed, most of these folded sheets have been lost, with the financial result that a copy of the book with them will bring twice as much as one without them, these two leaves weighing as much in the scales of commerce as the other four hundred. Sometimes a misprint establishes the priority of a copy, the error having been silently corrected while the sheets were going through the press, and thus adds to its value in the eyes of the collector. The extent of these ancient lists of errata staggers belief. Cardinal Bellarmin was obliged to issue an octavo volume of eighty-eight pages to correct the misprints in his published works, and there is on record a still huger list of errata, extending to one hundred and eleven quarto pages.

But we must not suppose that misprints began with the invention of printing. The name did, but not the thing named. In earlier times it was the copyist who made the mistakes and bore the blame. It is easy to see how in Greece and Rome, when one reader read aloud a book which perhaps a hundred copyists reproduced, a great number of errors might creep into the copies, and how many of these would result from confusion in hearing. Every copy was then an edition by itself and a possible source of error, calling therefore for its own proofreading. It is accordingly no wonder that the straightening out of classic texts is still going on. Had Chaucer, who wrote over a hundred years before printing was introduced into England, been able to read once for all the proof of his poems, he would not have had to write that feeling address to his copyist, or scrivener, with which we may fitly take leave of our subject.

Adam scryveyne, if ever it thee byfalle,
Boece or Troylus for to wryten nuwe,
Under thy long lokkes thowe most have the scalle,
But affter my makyng thowe wryte more truwe;
So offt a daye I mot thy werk renuwe,
It to corect, and eke to rubbe and scrape,
And al is thorugh thy necglygence and rape.

A SECRET OF PERSONAL POWER

Greater efficiency is the watchword of the hour. The pages of every technical and even educational magazine bristle with it. One is driven to wonder whether the principle does not require that in every printing office the word "efficiency" be stereotyped to save the cost of setting. We are told how one manager of a creamery saved annually the amount of his own salary to the company by having the dents in the supply cans pounded out and so getting more milk from the farmers. But though the lengths to which the insistence on efficiency is carried may sometimes provoke a smile, we have no inclination to disparage it; we realize that efficiency has far more than a mere money value to society; it is rather our purpose in the present paper to ask whether the efficiency man has ever thought to turn his searchlight in upon himself and discover whether he has not latent and unexpected powers that may be evoked to the great increase of his own efficiency.

We have nothing historically new to offer, though the principle we are to mention is practically unknown or at least unutilized. It is the great, controlling principle of Forethought, the application of which is far wider than thought itself, extending to all the functions of the soul and even affecting bodily energy and health. The action of Forethought is based on the fact that there is more to ourselves than we are aware of. We are not ordinarily conscious of our past lives, for instance, yet a supreme crisis, such as falling from a height, may make a man's whole past in an instant flash before him in review. Under sudden stress a man may develop powers of leadership or resolution that nobody could have foreseen and that he himself cannot account for. Our selves as we know them are, so to speak, only the top soil of our entire natures. Every conscious personality is like a farm in an oil district. It is underlain by an unrealized wealth that may never be brought to light. Some accident may reveal the treasure, but if the owner suspects its existence he may bore for it. To show how this boring may be done is one of the purposes of the present paper. But let us first assure ourselves further of the existence of this hidden fund of energy.

If in the early fifties of the last century a vote had been taken on the two men in America who ten years later would stand head and shoulders above their countrymen in position and recognized ability, it is probable that not one single vote would have been cast for a slouchy Missouri farmer or a shabby Illinois lawyer, certainly not for the former. Grant and Lincoln themselves would not have expected a vote. Yet their powers existed then, unrealized by their owners, and only needing the proper stimulus to bring them out. That stimulus was responsibility; and, great as their achievements were under this stimulus, neither man appears to have reached his limit; each apparently had still a fund of reserve power to be expended on yet greater occasions had they arisen. This is not to say that all men have an equal fund of unrecognized ability. The experiences of the great struggle out of which Lincoln and Grant came supreme are alone sufficient to show how unequal are men's endowments. A McClellan proves himself an unsurpassed organizer, but no fighter; a Burnside displays marked ability in leading fifteen or twenty thousand men, but beyond this number he fails disastrously. Neither Foresight nor any other device can _create_ ability. A gallon can will hold only a gallon, no matter how carefully its sides are rounded. But in the case of any given man no one knows his capacity until he has had a chance to show it. His nature may hold only a pint, or, as with the men who have mastered great occasions with still unexhausted powers, it may seem like the horn which the god Thor tried to drain but could not, for its base was connected with the ocean itself. Not every man can hope to be called to a responsibility that shall bring out his latent powers; most of us, if we are ever to get the call, will first have to show the ability.

How can a man tap the unknown resources, be they great or small, of his unconscious self? The method here to be suggested has at least the merit of great simplicity. I have called it Forethought; it might perhaps as exactly be called Forewilling. The point is that this unconscious part of a man's nature is not out of his control; he can send word to it and direct it, even if he has to do so by a kind of wireless telegraphy. However mysterious this may sound, there is nothing mystical about it, neither is it something vague and indefinite, but a practice to be applied to actual cases in hand. Suppose a business man is trying to get an important contract, and is to have an interview on the morrow that will decide the question. Let him, before he falls asleep at night, go over the whole ground in his mind, set before himself clearly the thing to be done with the particular difficulties to be met, and let him _will_ himself to meet those difficulties, to carry his case. Let him will that at that time he shall be cheerful and vigorous; and, having given these instructions to his unconscious self--which has perhaps been waiting years for just this chance to do its part in the common endeavor--let him dismiss the whole matter from his conscious thought and go to sleep. On awaking in the morning let him review the matter and again dismiss it from his mind until the occasion arrives. If he will do this faithfully, he may not succeed the first time in carrying his point, but he will certainly feel a great increase of power, and ultimately, if he persists in making his unconscious self an active partner in his life, he will find himself far more successful than he could have been while depending on a single side of his nature. The same principle will hold, of course, in a myriad cases; if we have to-morrow, or even at a later date, to plead a cause, to make an after-dinner speech, to write a report or an article, to learn a lesson, to entertain guests, to handle a difficult case of discipline, we have only to take this counsel of our pillow, to reënforce it with our first morning thought, and we shall find ourselves making a new record of success.

It is obvious that a principle so effective cannot be limited to the active or the intellectual life. If a man has a fault or a besetting weakness or sin, here is a way out of it. How long will a bad habit stand such an assault upon itself as the evening and morning practice of Forethought? One will actually feel the new force within him, like a gyroscopic stabilizer, holding him to his predetermined course. There is literally a world of hope for mankind in the application of this principle on its moral side. But the business of our article is with other applications and we must dismiss this, the greatest of all, with a mere mention.

If anyone questions whether this principle is true or not, the best answer will be to bid him test it. Though it be true universally, some people may not easily apply it, and some may not have the patience to subject themselves to such a discipline. But most will have no difficulty, and many will succeed well enough to inspire themselves to continue. Some, indeed, will say, and with perfect truth, that there is nothing new in this doctrine, that they have long known and applied it. The principle has doubtless been known for thousands of years, but it has certainly not been widely taken up by our race, which is curiously external in its notions of self-education and self-control. One American writer, the late Charles Godfrey Leland, a man of the most varied powers and accomplishments, has written in advocacy of it and gives us as his own experience that after the age of seventy he was able to do a greater amount of literary work, and with less fatigue, than ever before simply by calling in the aid of his unconscious self. If one were to read the lives and writings of eminent men with this principle of Forethought in mind, one would find numberless instances of its more or less unconscious practice. The best scholar in my own class, for instance, applied it to his studies. Does anyone suppose that the old Puritan's sweetening of his mind with a little Calvin before he went to bed was without its effect on his devotion to Calvinism? Erasmus, the wittiest of scholars, writing nearly four hundred years ago to his special friend, Christian of Lubeck, recommends the practice both of the evening instruction and the morning review as something that he himself has followed from his childhood; and we cannot doubt that in it he reveals one of the secrets of his world-wide influence. He says to his youthful friend: "A little before you go to sleep read something choice and worth remembering, and think it over until you fall asleep. When you awake in the morning make yourself give an account of it." Though this is clearly an application of the principle to study and the strengthening of the memory, experiment will show that the potency of Forethought is not limited to the memory or the intellect in general, but applies to man's entire nature and equally to the least and the greatest of its concerns.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] The substance of an address delivered Nov. 18, 1909, in the Boston Public Library, under the auspices of the Society of Printers.

[2] The address here summarized was printed at the Chiswick Press and published at Christmas, 1884. Mr. Stevens died early in 1886, leaving a posthumous book entitled "Recollections of Mr. James Lenox," which was printed in the same year at the Chiswick Press, and which is of great interest to booklovers, especially Americans.

[3] Mr. Edison's projected substitute for paper, sheets of nickel, 20,000 to the inch, may indicate the book material of the future, but at present it is only a startling possibility.

[4] The type in which this book is printed is a modern Bodoni, cut in Italy, and was chosen for its elegance rather than to illustrate the latest results in legibility of type design.

[5] See "Simplified Spelling in Writing and Printing; a Publisher's Point of View," by Henry Holt, LL.D., New York, 1906. About one half the expense falls within the domain of printing.

INDEX

INDEX

ABILITY, cannot be created, 164.

Accents, their help in reading poetry, 17, 18.

Æschylus, as characterized by Mrs. Browning, 67.

Aldine edition of the British Poets, by Pickering, 23, 24.

Aldrich, Thomas Bailey, his "Friar Jerome's Beautiful Book," 87, 88.

Aldus, Alduses and Elzevirs contrasted, 23;
beauty in his work, 4;
bindings of, 100;
his characteristic book, 21;
his example followed by the Elzevirs, 22;
his italic type and its effect on the size and price of books, 20, 21;
Pickering and other followers of, 23, 24;
vexed by misprints, 156.

Alphabet, Chinese, picture writing, 80, 81;
derivation from picture writing, 81;
scientific and actual, 147;
varieties in use, 146.
_See also_ Type.

American Journal of Psychology, contains Sanford's study on "The
relative legibility of the small letters," 122.

Arnold, Edwin, misprints in his "Light of Asia," 159.

Art, art aspect of the book, 3, 49, 115;
shares the prehistoric background of the book, 79, 80.

Artists not opposed to criticism, 62.

Assyrian clay tablet, 4.

Astor Library, size in 1875, 104.

Audubon, John James, his elephant-folio "Birds of America," 55.

Authors, reading by single authors and groups, 74-76;
spoilers of books, 40.

Authorship, rules of, 44.

BABYLONIAN book, 82.

Back numbers, unimportant contemporary works become, 77.

"Background of the book," 79-86.

Bacon, Francis, Lord, quoted, 106, 112.

Baird, John Wallace, directs Clark University studies on legibility, 124.

Ballads, Old English, Hazlitt on, 142.

Balzac, Honoré de, expanded his novels in proof, 15.

Balzac, Jean Louis Guez de, acknowledged his indebtedness to the
Elzevirs, 22.

Bamboo, source of Chinese paper, 85.

Barlow, Joel, place of his "Columbiad" in modern printing, 10.

Bartlett, John, quoted, 128.

Baskerville, John, his smooth paper, 5.

Beauty, _see_ Esthetics.

Beecher, Henry Ward, his "Norwood" in three volumes, 12;
John Beattie Crozier on his sermons, 111.

Beethoven, his Ninth Symphony as a product of genius, 65.

Bellarmin, Cardinal, list of errata in his works, 160.

Best books, need of provision for daily reading, 107.
_See also_ Books.

Bible, Hazlitt on its poetry, 141;
influence on Bunyan, on Calhoun, 110;
misprints in, 154, 156;
various folio editions, 19.

Bible of humanity, Socrates in, 68.

Bigness, in books, 35, 36, 45, 47.

Binder, a spoiler of books, 40, 42;
what the librarian asks of him, 48.

Binding, as an element of the book, 6;
"The clothing of a book," 97-101;
of the book beautiful, 52-55;
of the Chinese book, 88, 89;
of the well-made book, 52;
"Parchment bindings," 102, 103;
unnecessary rebindings, 46.

Bion, as characterized by Mrs. Browning, 68.

Birch bark, used for book of India, 85.

Bismarck, misprint concerning, 155.

Blackmore, Richard Doddridge, tribute to Shakespeare, 110.

Blue and Gold editions, a favorite book size, 24-26.

Bodoni, Giambattista, his type commended, 58, 129, 130.

Book, "The background of the book," 79-86;
"blown" books, 35;
"The book beautiful," 49-62;
"The book of to-day and the book of to-morrow," 33-37;
Chinese, 84, 85, 87-91;
"The clothing of a book," 97-101;
a constructive critic of the, 38-43;
elements of, 4-6;
"Fitness in book design," 9-13;
its structural contradiction, 52;
materials, 92;
of the future, 95, 96;
on its physical side an art object, 3;
pre-Columbian Mexican, 6;
printed, a "substitute" for manuscript, 4;
subject to laws of esthetics and economics, 115;
tests of its utility, 115;
well-made, not extremely costly, 7,
not identical with beautiful, 52;
worth writing three times, 44.
_See also_ Design; Size.

Book buyers, how to educate, 37;
spoilers of books, 40, 42.

Booklovers, "Books and booklovers," 3-8;
must first know books, 7;
service in improvement of books, 48, 61, 62.

Book production, 105;
elements added by printing, 14.

Books, as a librarian would like them, 44-48;
"Books and booklovers," 3-8;
the greatest, few, 66;
intellectual riffraff, 9;
learning to love, 7;
"Lest we forget the few great books," 104-114;
perishable, 34, 45, 46;
progress in legibility of, 132, 133;
small, commended by Dr. Johnson, 20;
"The student and the library," 139-144;
that are not books, 105, 106;
world's annual publication of, 105.

Books of Hours, dainty volumes, 20.

Boston Athenaeum Library, size in 1875, 104.

Boston Public Library, Address in, 3, _footnote_;
size in 1875, 104.

Brandes, Georg, his "Shakespeare: a critical study," 72.

Brass, used for book of India, 85.

British Poets, rival editions of, by Pickering and by Little and Brown,
23, 24.

Brown, Horatio Robert Forbes, on Aldus and his italic type, 20.

Brown, John Carter, patron of Henry Stevens, 38.

Brown University, misprint in quoting its charter, 154, 155.

Browne, Charles Farrar, adopts a misprint, 157.

Browning, Elizabeth Barrett, her "Wine of Cyprus" quoted, 67, 68.

Buchanan, George, his Latin poems, commended by Dr. Johnson, 23;
published by the Elzevirs, 23.

Bulk, in books, 92-96.

Bunyan, John, debt to the Bible, 110.

Burma, book of, _see_ India.

Burns, Robert, Hazlitt on, 142.

Burnside, General Ambrose Everett, his limitations, 163, 164.

Burton, Sir Richard, his "Kasîdah" in Mosher's tribute typography, 137.

Bury, Richard de, author of the "Philobiblon," 8.

Byron, Lord, hated Horace, 68.

CAESURA, indication of, in print, 18.

Calhoun, John Caldwell, reader of the Bible, 110.

Calligraphy, _see_ Manuscript.

Calvin, John, as a Puritan's spiritual nightcap, 166.

Cambridge University, student groups in, 139.

Capital letters, legibility, 121, 122, 126;
Roman in origin, 118;
Roman, superior to black-letter in combination, 57;
undersized, used by Aldus, 21.

Carlyle, Thomas, on Goethe, 110;
rewrote his books in proof, 15.

Caslon type, commended, 58, 117.

Catchwords, usage of Aldus, 21.

Cattell, James McKeen, his investigations of legibility, 121, 122.

Cave men, pictures made by them, 79, 80.

Centaur type, commended, 132.

Century Dictionary, illustration of cerastes, 81;
a triumph of typography, 16, 135.

Century types, commended, 127, 132.

Cervantes, "Don Quixote," character and meaning of, 70, 71,
no final edition of, 11,
on reading, 143, 144,
translations of, 143, 144;
his character, 70;
later novelists indebted to, 143.

Chaucer, Geoffrey, complaint of his scribe's errors, 160, 161;
Hazlitt on, 142;
his spelling, 149.

Cheapness, _see_ Cost.

Cheltenham type, commended, 132.

Cherokee syllabary, 146.

Children, increase of near sight among, 120;
legibility of books for, 5, 117.

Chinese, alphabet, conventionalized picture writing, 80, 81;
book, 84, 85, 87-91.

Chiswick Press, 38, _footnote_;
Pickering's books printed at, 41.

Christian of Lubeck, letter of Erasmus to, quoted, 166.

Cicero, did not write for children, 68.

Clark University, studies on legibility, 124-127, 132.

Classroom, not equal to a good book, 140.

Clay tablet, and booklovers, 4;
described, 82.

Clodd, Edward, on discovery of British prehistoric antiquities, 79.

Cloister Oldstyle type, commended, 132;
a safe norm for poetry, 58.

Cloth, used in binding, 53.

"Clothing of a book," 97-101.

Codex, Roman, form adopted for parchment books, 84;
original of modern book form, 19, 52, 90.

Collins, Wilkie, tribute to "Robinson Crusoe," 110.

Color, use of, 60.

Columbian type, first used in Barlow's "Columbiad," 10.

Columns, in wide pages, 47.

Community, value of reading to the, 28, 29.

Compactness and legibility, 117, 130, 131, 134, 135.

Compositor, a spoiler of books, 40, 41.

"Constructive critic of the book," 38-43.

Consumers, _see_ Book buyers.

Contemporary writers, on reading their works, 76, 77.

Contrast of type, 16, 17.

Copperplate printing, in connection with typography, 60.

Cornell University Library, proof-sheets of the "Waverley Novels" in, 15.

Corrigenda, 152-161;
lists of, 159, 160.

Cost, the book of to-morrow will be cheaper, 36;
cheapened books, 45;
of beautiful books little more than of unsightly, 39;
relatively small, of well-made books, 7.

Cowper, William, Hazlitt on, 142.

Crabbe, George, a favorite edition of, 24.

Criticism, "A constructive critic of the book," 38-43;
not opposed by artists, 62.

Crozier, John Beattie, on reading, 111, 112.

Culture cannot be vicarious, 140.

DANA, JOHN COTTON, his analysis of the elements of the book, 4.

Dante, his "Divine Comedy," character of, 69, 70, 144;
"fly's-eye" edition of, 55;
Hazlitt on, 141;
privilege of reading, 64;
Professor Torrey on reading, 109.

Decoration, in bindings, 6, 99-101;
use of color in, 60.

Defoe, Daniel, tribute of Wilkie Collins to "Robinson Crusoe," 110.

Democratization of learning, by the cheap books of Aldus, 21.

De Morgan, William, quoted, 63, 72;
value of his novels, 77.

De Quincey, Thomas, on possible amount of reading in a lifetime, 105.

Design, "Fitness in book design," 9-13;
of type, 5, 117, 118.

Diagonal of page, 57.

Dickens, Charles, his works in illegible print, 130,
on Oxford India paper, 94,
on thick paper, 95;
on reading him, 143.

Dickinson, Emily, quoted, 30, 31.

Didot, Ambrose Firmin, his "microscopic" type, 131.

Discovery of a great book, 108, 109.

Distinctions, to the eye, in manuscript and print, 16-18.

Don Quixote, _see_ Cervantes.

Dordogne, France, its prehistoric pictures, 79, 80.

Dowden, Edward, his "Shakspere: his mind and art," 72.

Dryden, John, Hazlitt on, 142.

ECONOMICS, the book within the domain of, 115, 116.

Edges, treatment of, 61.

Edison, Thomas Alva, would substitute nickel for paper, 92, _footnote_.

Editions de luxe, disapproved by Henry Stevens, 39.

Education, in appreciation of beautiful books, 50;
of book buyers, 37.

Efficiency, in modern life, 162;
of the book, 115.

Egyptian, book, see Papyrus;
hieroglyphics, picture writing, 81.

Elements of the book, 4-6.

Elimination, test of, applied to reading, 63, 64.

Eliot, Charles William, his Latin signature, 102, 103.

Elzevirs, compared with Aldines, 23,
with Blue and Gold editions, 25;
described, 21-23.

Emerson, Ralph Waldo, his life and works, 75, 76;
importance of his works, 112;
John Beattie Crozier on, 112;
quoted, 144.

Encyclopædia Britannica, in its two sizes of type, 135.

English, alphabets, 117, 118;
book publication in 1913, 105;
books, criticised, 38-43;
literature as affected by reformed spelling, 149;
poets, Hazlitt's Lectures on, 141, 142;
romancers, of the 18th century, 143;
spelling, 145-151.

Engravings, _see_ Illustrations.

Erasmus, Desiderius, letter to Christian of Lubeck, quoted, 166.

Errata, 152-161;
lists of, 159, 160.

Errors of the press, 152-161.

Essays, in a favorite book size, 24.

Esthetics, beauty in typography, 136-138;
"The book beautiful," 49-62;
the book subject to the laws of, 115;
harmony between beauty and use in type design, 132;
in choice of type, 127, 131;
involves sacrifice of utility, 116;
its demands must be met in a favorite book, 24,
met by the Little Classic editions, 26;
of the book, 3, 9;
printer's duty, to, 18;
relation of thickness and thinness to, 23, 24;
sacrificed to legibility, 117.

Etymology in spelling, 148.

Eumenes II, originates parchment, 83, 84.

Euripides, as characterized by Mrs. Browning, 68.

Everyman's Library, in a favorite book size, 24.

Eves, binders, their work, 100.

"Exceptions to the rule of legibility," 134-138, 130, 131.

Expression in typography, 9-13, 137, 138.

Eyes, _see_ Sight.

F, the letter, origin and derivatives, 81.

Fairy Queen, _see_ Spenser, Edmund.

"Favorite book sizes," 19-27.

Favorite literature, in appropriate typography, 137.

Fielding, Henry, a favorite edition of, 24;
on reading him, 143;
an unattractive edition of, 12.

Fields, Annie Adams, her "Beacon Biography" of Hawthorne, 75.

Finishing, _see_ Binding.

Fitness, between illustrations and type, 6;
in book design, 9-13;
in typography, 137, 138.

Fitzgerald, Edward, at Cambridge University, 139.

Forethought, "A secret of personal power," 162-167.

Forewilling, "A secret of personal power," 162-167.

Format, _see_ Size.

Forwarding, _see_ Binding.

Franklin, Benjamin, quoted, 35, 123.

French, alphabet, 147;
book publication in 1913, 105;
type, faults of, 117, 120, 128.

Frowde, Henry, publishes "The Periodical" in form of a Chinese book, 88,
90.

GALILEO, acknowledged his indebtedness to the Elzevirs, 22.

Garfield, James Abram, recommends reading of fiction, 107.

Gems, in bindings, 6.

Genius, its bad spelling, 150, 151;
its monuments in the various arts, 65.

German, book publication in 1913, 105;
spelling reform, 147, 148, 150;
tribute typography, 137;
type, faults of, 117, 122, 128.

Ghost words, 158, 159.

Gilding, _see_ Binding; Edges.

Gladstone, William Ewart, a literary blunder of, 152, 153.

Goethe, Carlyle on, 110;
his greatness, 73;
John Beattie Crozier on, 112;
on Sir Walter Scott, 110.

Goffered edges, 61.

Goudy, Frederic W., his Kennerley type commended, 132.

Grace before reading, 77.

Grammar of book manufacture, 40, 42.

Grant, Ulysses Simpson, his coat of arms, 30;
his greatness brought out by responsibility, 163.

Gray, Thomas, small bulk of his work, 69.

"Great books, Lest we forget the few," 104-114.

Greek literature, masterpieces of, 66-68.

Greeks, surpassed by moderns in knowledge, 30.

Green, John Richard, quoted, 50.

Grolier, Jean, bindings made for, 100.

Groups, reading authors by, 74, 75.

Guide, in reading, 140-142;
none to love of books, 7.

Guidi, Carlo Alessandro, killed by misprints, 156.

HABIT, and forethought, 165.

Haggard, Rider, his "Mr. Meeson's Will," 86.

Hallam, Arthur Henry, at Cambridge University, 139.

Handwriting, _see_ Manuscript.

Harte, Francis Bret, on reading his works, 143.

Harvard University, course in printing, 43;
Library possesses manuscript of Shelley's "Skylark," 158;
size of Library in 1875, 104.

Hawthorne, Nathaniel, on reading him, 74, 75.

Hay, John, his reading in college, 139;
a remarkable misprint in his "Poems," 159.

Hazlitt, William, as a guide in reading, 141, 142;
Lamb and Stevenson on, 141.

Headlines, Henry D. Lloyd on, 132.

"Hibbert Journal," bulkiness of, 95.

Hieroglyphics, _see_ Picture writing.

Higginson, Thomas Wentworth, his life of Longfellow, 75.

Holmes, Oliver Wendell, the Blue and Gold edition of his "Poems," 24, 25;
his life of Emerson, 75;
member of New England group of authors, 75;
a misprint in his "Works," 159;
quoted, 24, 80, 102, 106.

Holt, Henry, on simplified spelling, 147, _footnote_.

Homer, did not write for children, 68;
Hazlitt on, 141;
his works, 64, 66, 67;
Keats's sonnet on, 108, 109;
not out of date, 77;
why his works are divided into books, 83.

Horace, hated by Byron, 68;
his works, 69;
in Bodoni's 1791 edition, 129, 130;
more modern than the Puritans, 69,
than Dante, 70.

Houghton, Mifflin and Company, publish books resembling Chinese, 87, 88.

Hours, books of, dainty volumes, 20.

House of Representatives Library, size in 1875, 104.

Hudson, Henry Norman, his edition of Shakespeare, 71, 72.

Huey, Edmund Burke, his "Psychology and pedagogy of reading," commended,
124.

Hull, Mass., as misprinted, 154.

Humanistic type, _see_ New Humanistic.

Hunt, Leigh, his characterization of the "Divine Comedy," 70.

I, the letter, discussions regarding its dot, 61.

"Idler," a favorite edition of, 24.

Illumination, 51;
indication of initials for, 21.

Illustration, as a feature of the book, 6;
of the book beautiful, 60.

"Imitatio Christi," in Updike's specimen pages, 136.

Incunabula, relatively cheap, 49.

Indecency in misprints, 155, 156.

Indenting, as affecting the book beautiful, 59.

"Independent," compactly printed, 95.

India, book of, 85, 86.

Individual, value of reading to, 29-32.

Initials, colored, 60;
spacing and mitering of, 59.

Ink, best for the eye, 116, 120;
blue, for legibility, 5;
an element of the book, 5;
maker, a spoiler of books, 40, 42.

Interpretative typography, 9-13, 137, 138.

"Interpreter of meaning, Print as an," 14-18.

Invention, in book production, 33, 34.

Irving, Washington, book design in editions of his "Knickerbocker," 10, 11;
unfortunate use of his "Sketch Book" as a school book, 68, 69.

Italic type, invention and use by Aldus, 20, 21.

Italy, annual book publication, 105.

JAPAN, annual book publication, 105.

Javal, Dr. Émile, his investigations of legibility, 120, 121, 123.

Jenson, Nicholas, beauty and grandeur in his work, 4;
descendants of his types, 132;
facsimile page of, _frontispiece_.

Johnson, Rossiter, his Little Classic editions described, 25, 26.

Johnson, Dr. Samuel, commends small books, 20, 22, 23;
a favorite edition of his "Idler," 24;
his "Prayers" in tribute typography, 136;
on our knowledge of ancient Britain, 79.

Josephus, Flavius, book form inappropriate to, 50.

Justification, requirements of, 58, 59.

Justinian, facsimile page of his "Digestum novum," _frontispiece_.

KEATS, JOHN, folio inappropriate to, 50;
inappropriate Forman edition of, 11;
"On first looking into Chapman's Homer," 108, 109;
small bulk of his work, 69.

Kelmscott Press, _see_ Morris, William.

Kennerley type, commended, 132.

Kipling, Rudyard, on reading him, 143.

"Knickerbocker," Irving's, book design in editions of, 10, 11.

Knowledge, necessary to success in life, 30;
obtainable in its fulness only through books, 30;
progress possible only in, 29, 30.

Kuran, sources from which it was compiled, 86.

LAMB, CHARLES, on grace before reading, 77;
on Hazlitt, 141.

Large-paper copies, condemned, 56, 131.

Latin literature, masterpieces of, 68, 69.

Leadership developed under stress, 163.

Leading, as affecting legibility, 120;
as affecting spacing, 58, 59.

Leather, employment in binding, 52-54.

Le Gascon, binder, his work, 100.

Legend, of pictures, proper place of, 60.

Legibility, elements of the book as related to, 116-118;
"Exceptions to the rule of legibility," 130, 131, 134-138;
influence on, of paper, type, and ink, 5;
"Types and eyes: The problem," 120-127,
---- "Progress," 128-133.

Leland, Charles Godfrey, on forethought, 166.

Length of line, 117.

Lenox, James, mortified by a misprint, 156;
patron of Henry Stevens, 38;
"Recollections of," by Stevens, 38, _footnote_.

Le Sage, Alain René, his "Gil Blas," 143.

"Lest we forget the few great books," 104-114.

Letters, _see_ Capital letters;
Manuscript;
Minuscules;
Silent letters;
Type.

Lewes, George Henry, a misprint in one of his works, 158.

Librarians, "Books as a librarian would like them," 44-48;
a duty to their successors, 103;
meeting of British, in 1882, 38.

Libraries, as affected by spelling reform, 150;
development in the United States since 1875, 104;
electrical batteries of power, 30;
put to needless expense for big books, 36,
for rebindings, 46;
"The student and the library," 139-144.

Library Company of Philadelphia, size of library in 1875, 104.

Library hand, Bodoni's italic resembles, 130.

Library of Congress, size in 1875, 104.

Lightness, in books, deceptive, 93, 94.

Lincoln, Abraham, his greatness brought by responsibility, 163.

Lincoln cent, lettering on, 134.

Line, endings should not show too many hyphens, 59;
normal length for legibility, 117.

Linnaeus, quoted, 33.

Linotype, gives a turned line, 153.

Literature, the book beautiful of service to, 62;
its treasures, 63-78;
print a contribution to, 15;
type appropriate to, 136-138.

Little and Brown, publishers, their "British Poets" compared with
Pickering's "Aldines," 24.

Little Classic editions, 20, 25, 26.

Littré, Émile, typography of his "Dictionnaire," 135.

Lloyd, Henry Demarest, on headlines, quoted, 132.

Locker-Lampson, Frederick, inappropriate edition of his "My
Confidences," 12.

London Registrar General, misprint, 155.

Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth, book design appropriate to his "Works," 11;
his "Michael Angelo," 87;
his sonnets on Dante, 70;
holiday edition of his "Skeleton in Armor," 137;
"Life," appropriate edition of, 12;
quoted, 68.

Lowell, James Russell, member of New England group of authors, 75.

MACAULAY, THOMAS BABINGTON, knew "Paradise Lost" by heart, 73.

McClellan, General George Brinton, his limitations, 163.

Malherbe, François, welcomes a misprint, 157.

Mammoth, picture of, a prehistoric book, 79.

Manuscript, chief difference from print, 14;
distinctions in, 16;
importance to bookmaking, 51;
limitations of, 16;
Ruskin on, 51;
still used in private records, 15.
_See also_ Papyrus; Parchment.

Margin, size and proportions of, 56, 57.

Marriage service, misprint in, 154.

Material of the book, changed twice in two thousand years, 92.

Materials of writing, 86.

Mather, Cotton, list of errata in his "Magnalia," 160.

Mathews, William, as an author, 63;
his memory of choice passages, 63;
on reading ten pages a day, 108.

Maxim, Sir Hiram, quoted, 92.

"Meaning, Print as an interpreter of," 14-18.

Mearne, Samuel, binder, 100.

Memory, Erasmus on art of strengthening, 166, 167;
value of a well-stored, 63.

"Men of the Time," famous misprint in, 153, 154.

Ménage, Gilles, acknowledged his indebtedness to the Elzevirs, 22.

Mexican book, pre-Columbian, ornamented, 6;
described, 85, 86;
picture writing of, 81.

Michelangelo, his "Moses" as a product of genius, 65.

Milton, John, debt of Daniel Webster to, 110;
gave metric hints by spelling, 18;
Hazlitt on, 142;
his greatness, 72, 73;
his spelling, 149, 150;
Lamb would say grace before reading, 77;
a misprint in "Samson Agonistes," 159;
on the deprivation caused by his blindness, 63, 64;
a spelling reformer, 149.

Minuscules, legibility, 122-124, 126;
of late origin, 118.

Misprints, "The perversities of type," 152-161.

Montaigne, "Journal of his travels," in three volumes, 12.

Morgan, Lloyd, cited, 87.

Morris, William, as printer, 33, 34;
confesses faults of ignorance in book making, 50;
his Kelmscott editions, "tribute typography," 137;
on shape of dot of _i_, 61;
on types, 5, 129, 130.

Mosher, Thomas Bird, his "tribute typography," 137.

Motteux, Peter Anthony, his translation of "Don Quixote," 144.

Moulton, Charles Wells, "Library of Literary Criticism," its attractive
book design, 13.

NAMES, place of, in development of the alphabet, 81.

Near sight, 120, 130.

Necker, Jacques, student's blunder concerning, 154.

New England, its communities of readers, 28, 29;
its group of authors, 75, 76.

New Humanistic type, commended, 138;
special form of _a_, 123.

New York Mercantile Library, size in 1875, 104.

Newspapers, extraordinary development of speed and cheapness in, 14;
legibility, 5, 117, 132, 133;
opponents of spelling reform, 145;
place in reading, 106.

Newton, Sir Isaac, quoted, 144.

Nickel, as a substitute for paper, 92, _footnote_.

Novels, in a favorite book size, 24;
in illegible type, 130;
on reading, 107;
three-volume, 12;
typical book of to-day, 35.

"Nuremberg Chronicle," a characteristic folio, 19.

OCULIST'S tests of legibility, 120.

Ormsby, John, his translation of "Don Quixote," 144.

Ornamentation, in bindings, 6, 53, 100, 101;
in type, 121.

"Orthographic reform," 145-151.

Ossian, Hazlitt on, 141.

Owen, Robert, a famous misprint concerning, 153.

"Oxford Book of English Verse," thin-paper edition preferred, 95.