Chapter 11

BIBLIOGRAPEIICAL BLUNDERS.

THERE is no class that requires to be dealt with more leniently than do bibliographers, for pitfalls are before and behind them. It is impossible for any one man to see all the books he describes in a general bibliography; and, in consequence of the necessity of trusting to second-hand information, he is often led imperceptibly into gross error. Watt's _Bibliotheca Britannica_ is a most useful and valuable work, but, as may be expected from so comprehensive a compilation, many mistakes have crept into it: for instance, under the head of Philip Beroaldus, we find the following title of a work: ``A short view of the Persian Monarchy, published at the end of Daniel's Works.'' The mystery of the last part of the title is cleared up when we find that it should properly be read, ``_and of Daniel's Weekes_,'' it being a work on prophecy. The librarian of the old Marylebone Institution, knowing as little of Latin as the monk did of Hebrew when he described a book as having the beginning where the end should be, catalogued an edition of sop's Fables as `` sopiarum's Ph dri Fabulorum.''

Two blunders that a bibliographer is very apt to fall into are the rolling of different authors of the same name into one, and the creation of an author who never existed. The first kind we may illustrate by mentioning the dismay of the worthy Bishop Jebb, when he found himself identified in Watt's _Bibliotheca_ with his uncle, the Unitarian writer. Of the second kind we might point out the names of men whose lives have been written and yet who never existed. In the _Zoological Biography_ of Agassiz, published by the Ray Society, there is an imaginary author, by name J. K. Broch, whose work, _Entomologische Briefe_, was published in 1823. This pamphlet is really anonymous, and was written by one who signed himself J. K. Broch, is merely an explanation in the catalogue from which the entry was taken that it was a _brochure_. Moreri created an author, whom he styled Dorus Basilicus, out of the title of James I.'s <gr D<w^>ron basilik<o'>n>, 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 dia 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 ber Esai Stiefels Buchlein: 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 um_ lately. Here we have 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 Litteratur.''

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 , but the inside of the volume 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 _Dendrologia, 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 schines were styled _The 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.