Henry B. Wheatley opens his collection by borrowing the title from Augustine Caxton's unwieldy "History of Human Error" in Bulwer-Lytton's novel The Caxtons, wryly noting that his own volume will not run to the thousand or so volumes needed for a complete treatment. The preface sets a tone of learned amusement: a satirical friend calls the proofs "Jokes Old and New," and Wheatley hopes readers will accept the old jokes for the sake of the new ones. He acknowledges contributions from Professors Hales, Skeat, and Dr. Murray, as well as a series of examination answers supplied by Prof. Oliver Lodge. The work is framed as a small branch of an inexhaustible subject, blending frivolity with useful literary information on errata and misprints.

The Long Life of a Small Blunder

Wheatley traces how a printer's joining of two words in John Hall's Horae Vacivae (1646) created the phantom word "andwar." The passage originally read "Tick tack sets a man's intentions on their guard. Errors in this and war can be but once amended," but the printer fused "and war" into one word. A correspondent in Notes and Queries hunted for the word in vain, and another suggested it might modernise into "handwar," comparing it to "andirons." The blunder persisted into the General Index, where "Andwar" was listed as an old English word. Wheatley uses this case to show how a single typographical slip can generate false etymology and survive for decades in reference works.

Misprints That Create New Meanings

A similar misprint turned "The Business about Greatrakes"—referring to Valentine Greatrakes, the famous stroker who claimed to cure the king's evil—into "The Business about great Rakes." George Scott, editing Derham's Life of Ray, added a note explaining that drag rakes were now in general use among farmers. The error went uncorrected in later editions, including Dr. Lankester's Memorials of John Ray (1846). Wheatley also records a printer producing "a noticeable fact in thisms" instead of "this MS," and a misprint that made Milton's works appear "immoral" rather than "immortal." In Miss Yonge's Dynevor Terrace, a young lady is described "without stretched arms" because a portion of one word was joined to another.

The Role of Stops and Transpositions

Wheatley devotes attention to the misplacement of stops, noting that a single comma or period can alter sense drastically. He cites an address to Dr. Watts where "immortal lyre" became "immoral lyre," and Watts' "daring flight" was transposed to "darling flight." The author also mentions the case of William Sharp, the line engraver who believed in the divine mission of the madman Richard Brothers, though the excerpt breaks off before the full anecdote. Throughout, Wheatley draws on Notes and Queries as a primary source, treating it as a repository of collective detective work on textual errors. His method is cumulative: each example reinforces the theme that even the smallest mistake can spawn a trail of confusion.

Wheatley's book is best read as a cabinet of curiosities rather than a systematic treatise. Readers interested in the history of textual criticism will find the chapters on errata and misprints the most substantive, while the examination howlers and lighter anecdotes offer relief. The author's reliance on Notes and Queries means many entries assume familiarity with Victorian scholarly culture, but the core observations about how errors propagate remain accessible. Approach the volume as a series of case studies in the fragility of printed knowledge.