Neither the digrapheonoreuis found often. The first, however, improves fully the opportunity presented of making it difficult, if not impossible, for the learner to get any idea of the pronunciation from the spelling. Inpeopleit has the sound of “longe”; inleopardandjeopardit has the sound of shorte. Inyeomanagain it has the sound of longo.Euhas practically the same sound asew, as can be exemplified infeudandfew. This last digraph, however, represents the long sound ofuas well as that in which iotization precedes the vowel. The difference in the pronunciation ofdrewanddewwill make manifest the contrast. There is always a tendency, however, for the digraph topass from the latter sound to the former in a tongue in which there is nothing in the orthography to fix a precise value upon the sign indicating both. “According to my v’oo,” Oliver Wendell Holmes, in hisElsie Venner, has one of his characters saying. “The unspeakable pronunciation of this word,” he adds in a parenthesis, “is the touchstone of New England Brahminism.” In another place in the same novel he still further enforces this point. “The Doctor,” he wrote, among his other recommendations to the hero, says to him, “you can pronounce the wordview.” And yet in it the iotization is plainly indicated by the vowel itself, while in such words ashewandfewandnewthere is nothing to fix definitely the sound. Finally, it remains to say of this digraph thatshewandstrew, two verbs once spelled with it, have now becomeshowandstrow, a form more in accordance with their pronunciation. There is no particular reason whysewshould not follow their example in substituting anofor ane.
The digraphieis represented but by three vowel sounds. The most common one is that of “longe”—seen, for example, inchief,grieve,believe. But the sound of “longi” is heard in no small number of words, especially monosyllabic words ending inie, such aslie,die,tie.In one instance it has the sound of shorte. Accordingly, in it the first vowel is distinctly superfluous. This is the wordfriend. Its Anglo-Saxon original isfreónd, just as that offiendisfeóndorfiónd. One of the small jokes of the opponents of spelling reform is a professed unwillingness “to knock the eye out of a friend.” Disparaging remarks have been made about this as an argument—as it seems to me, with no justification. Compared with most of the objections brought against the efforts to wash the dirty face of our orthography and make it decently presentable, this particular argument against dropping theiout offriendis, as I look at it, the strongest that has been or can be adduced. It reminds one, indeed, of the objection the French writer made to the dropping of thehout ofrhinoceros. The animal would lose his horn and become nothing more than a sheep.
As a matter of linguistic history, however, it was not until late in the sixteenth century that thei, though found long before, appeared in the wordfriendto an extent worth considering. There were several ways in which it had been spelled previously. Of thesefrendwas naturally a common one in days when the belief still lingered that the office of orthographywas to represent pronunciation and not to get as far away from it as possible. Take, as an illustration, the treatise entitledThe Schoolmasterof the great English scholar, Roger Ascham. This appeared in 1570. In it the wordfriendoccurs just twenty-five times. It is regularly spelledfrend, with the exception of one instance, where the intrudingiis found. So alsofrendlyis invariably the form of the adjective, andfrendshipthat of the derivative noun.[22]
Oa, the next digraph in order, comes very near attaining the distinction of being represented by a single sound. It occurs in a fairly large number of words which can be represented byoar,coat,loaf. It is saved, however, from the reproach of regularity by having the sound of theaof “ball” in the wordsbroad,abroad, andgroat.Oeis not so common, but, like its reverseeo, what it lacks in number of words it makes up in variety of pronunciation. Infoe,hoe, andtoeit has the sound of longo. Incanoeandshoeit has the sound of longu. In these instances it forms the termination of words. Not so indoes, where it has the sound we call “shortu.” The use of this digraph, like that ofae, has been much restricted. For instance, the word we now spellfetidwas once generally spelledfœtid. So, in truth, it continued to be till the nineteenth century. The digraph, indeed, still lingers in the name of the drugasafœtida, though in the instance of this word the long sound has given way to the short. Not unlike, in some particulars, has been the fortune of certain other terms. Take, for instance, the wordeconomy. Its remote Greek original began withoi, which in English, as in Latin, appeared with the formœ, and sometimes erroneouslyæ. For these was found occasionally the simplee. In the nineteenth century this last displaced the two others, and gave to the first syllable the present standard form. One of the results, however, of this sort of substitution is that no one seems to be certain whether he ought to pronounce the initialeofeconomicas long or short.
The ordinary sound ofoo, the next digraph to be considered, is that of longu, as we see it inmoon,soon,food. But there are about halfa dozen words—throwing derivatives out of consideration—in which it has the short sound ofu. The difference can be plainly observed by contrasting the pronunciation of the digraph in the two wordsmoodandwood. Furthermore,oois to be credited with two more sounds. One is that of the “shortu” seen inbloodandflood. The other is the long sound ofoindoorandfloor, anciently spelleddoreandflore.Dore, for instance, can be found in Chaucer, Shakespeare, Milton, and even as late as Bunyan.
The digraphouis perhaps the banner sign for the frequency of its occurrence and the variety of sounds it indicates. As it appears most commonly, it is a genuine diphthong, as seen in such words asloud,sour,mouth. But there is another large body of words in which the sign has a sound essentially distinct. It can be observed in such words asgroup,youth,tour. It gives one a peculiar idea of the worth of English orthography as a guide to pronunciation that inthou, the singular of the pronoun of the second person,ouhas one value, and in its plural,you, it has a value altogether different. The same observation is true of the possessivesourandyour. There are two or three words in which these two signs have had for a long period a struggle for the ascendancy.Take the case of the substantivewound. One gets the impression from poetry that in this word theouconstitutes a genuine diphthong. There is no question that it rymes regularly with words containing the diphthongal sound here given. Perhaps that was a necessity; it had to ryme with such or not ryme at all. Still, the verse seems pretty surely to have represented the common pronunciation. In the couplets of Pope, the poetic authority of the eighteenth century, it is joined, for instance, withbound,found,ground. Yet this same pronunciation was unequivocally condemned by Walker at the end of the same century. “Towound,” he writes, “is sometimes pronounced so as to rhyme withfound; but this is directly contrary to the best usage.”
This same uncertainty in the pronunciation of words in consequence of the uncertainty of the pronunciation of the signs employed to represent it may be further exemplified in the case of the nounroute. Unlikewound, which is a pure native word, this is of French extraction. Following the analogy of most of the words so derived, it ought to have the second sound given here to the digraph. Yet it not unfrequently receives that of the first. Thus Walker graciously tells us that it is often pronouncedso as to ryme withdoubt“by respectable speakers.” A far more interesting case is that ofpour. The majority of eighteenth century orthoepists—Johnston, Kenrick, Perry, Smith, and Walker—pronounced the word so as to ryme withpower. Spenser so employed it. So did Pope, more than a century later. In the only two instances he uses the word in his regular poetry at the end of a line it has this sound. In hisMessiahoccurs the following couplet:
Ye Heavens! from high the dewy nectar pour:And in soft silence shed the kindly shower.
Walker, indeed, declared unreservedly that the best pronunciation of it is “that similar topower.” Nares alone among eighteenth century orthoepists seems to have upheld what is now the customary pronunciation; yet even here the authority of some of the greatest of modern poets has been occasionally cast in favor of the once accepted sound. In his poem ofThe Poet’s Mind, Tennyson, for instance, writes:
Holy water will I pourInto every spicy flower.
The digraph is far from being limited to the sounds heard respectively inthouandyou.Another one is that of longo, found, for illustration, indough,soul,mould. There is still another sound—that of the so-called “broada”—which is heard inbrought,ought, andwrought. A fifth sound represented is that of the regular shortuseen inwould,could, andshould. Incoughandtrough, as pronounced by many, there is a sixth sound represented. In the course of its travels through the vowel sounds the sign reaches that which we commonly call “shortu.” There is no small number of words in which this pronunciation of it appears.Country,journey,trouble,flourishmay be given as examples.Ou, in truth, has a remarkable record, not so much by the number of sounds it represents—in this it is approached by two or three other digraphs—but by the comparative largeness of the body of words in which several of these different sounds appear. In the latter respect, but not at all in the former, is it rivalled by the analogousow. This, common as it is, has but two sounds. The first and most frequent is that heard inbrown,down, andvowel; the second is the longosound heard in such words asblow,grow, andbelow.
We now reach the digraphs of which the voweluis the first letter. In a large number of words this has, if pronounced, the sound ofw.Especially is this true of syllables upon which no accent falls, or at most a secondary accent. Nothing of this characteristic is seen in the case ofuy—in which the diphthongal sound ofiis heard in the two wordsbuyandguy—but it is noticeable in the case of the first four vowels. We can see it illustrated by theuaofassuage,persuade,language; by theueofconquest,request, anddesuetude; by theuiofanguish,languish,cuirass; and by theuoofquote,quota,quorum. In this last case theustrictly belongs withq. Ofua, the first of these digraphs, all that needs to be said is that in certain words, such asguardandguardian, theuis not pronounced at all. The same statement can be made ofueinguess,guest,guerdon. It is as useless as it is silent. A plea has been put forth in justification of its existence on the theory that it acts as a sort of servile instrument to protect the hard sound ofg. If this digraph were invariably so employed, it may be conceded that there would be some sense in its existence. But he who expects to find either sense or consistency in English orthography has strayed beyond the limits of justifiable ignorance. There is a large number of instances in which the consonantgcontinues to exhibit its hard sound when followed directly bye.Getandgeeseandgewgawandeagerandangerare a few of the words which could be adduced to show that there has never been felt any necessity of the presence of a protectinguto indicate this pronunciation.
When at the end of a word the digraphuehas often the sound of longu, as inblue,pursue,true, andrue. But no small number of instances occur in which it is entirely silent. This is especially noticeable in words derived from the Greek which have the final syllableslogueorgogue.Catalogue,prologue,dialogue,demagogue,pedagogue, andsynagoguewill serve as examples. But the list of words in which this digraph is silent is far from being confined to those with these two terminations.Antique,oblique,intrigue,colleague,fatigue,rogue, andplaguewill testify to the uselessness of it as far as pronunciation is concerned, unless it be maintained that it justifies its existence by indicating that the preceding vowel has a long sound. If this be true, it ought not to appear when the vowel is short. One sees so much of the results of freak and wantonness in our spelling that it is permissible to cherish the fancy that any intelligent principle has been sometime somewhere at work in it, and that a feeling of this kind was the unconscious motive thatled to the adoption ofpacketin place ofpacquetand oflackeyforlacquey; at any rate, ofriskfor the once prevalentrisqueand ofcheckforcheque. But no such reason can be assigned for theueoftongue. Its original wastunge. The finaleceased to be pronounced, and in course of time to be printed. The insertion of auin the ending, after the fashion of the Frenchlangue, was an act of combined ignorance and folly.
The digraphuifollows in general the course ofue. As in the case of the latter theuwas found unneeded inguessandguest, so it is equally unnecessary inguideandguile. Here again a not dissimilar sort of defence for it has been set up. Its retention, we are told, is desirable in order to indicate the diphthongal sound ofiin these words. The argument is as futile as in the case of the preceding digraph. It illustrates forcibly the capabilities of our spelling in the way of confusing pronunciation that the same combination which is responsible for “longi” inguideandguileanddisguiseis equally responsible for the shortiofguilt,guinea, andbuild. With the statement thatuihas still another sound in such words asfruit,bruise, andrecruit, we leave the consideration of the vowels and vowel sounds. But after the survey of the subject which has just been made,no one is likely to pretend that the pronunciation he hears of any one of these in a strange word will furnish him the least surety that he will be able to reproduce its authorized form in writing.
So much for the vowels. When we come to the consonants we are approaching much more solid phonetic ground. In a general way, they have remained faithful to the sounds they were created to indicate. Not but that here also there is need of reform. This will be made sufficiently manifest when details are given in the case of individual letters. But the disorganization of the consonant-system is slight compared with that of the vowel-system. There is, indeed, a fundamental difference between the two. With the vowels conformity to any phonetic law whatever is the exception and not the rule. With the consonants the reverse is the case. Fortunate it is for the English-speaking race that such is the fact. Were it otherwise, were there with the consonants the same degree of irregularity which exists with the vowels, the same degree of variableness in the representation of sounds, the same widelyprevalent indifference to analogy, knowledge of English spelling would not be delayed, as it is now, for no more than two or three years beyond the normal time of its acquisition; it would be the work of a lifetime. Mastery of it, under existing conditions never fully gained by some, would in such circumstances never be acquired by anybody who learned anything else.
There is one pervading characteristic of the consonants which differentiates their position in the orthography from that of the vowels. Wherever they appear they have ordinarily the pronunciation which is theirs by right. Ordinarily, not invariably. There are exceptions that demand full discussion. Still, the usual way in which consonants vary from the phonetic standard is not by being pronounced differently but by not being pronounced at all. In some instances the useless letter represents the derivation; in others it defies it. They have been retained in the spelling, though never pronounced, either because they are found in the primitive from which they came; or they have been introduced into it under the influence of a false analogy, or as a consequence of a false derivation. In any reform of the orthography it may not be desirable in some cases to drop—at all events at the outset—these now silentletters. It assuredly would not be so wherever the tendency manifests itself to resume them in pronunciation.
There are four of the consonants which practically do not vary from phonetic law. They are never silent; they always indicate the precise pronunciation which they purport to indicate. In the case of two of them there is in each a single instance in which the rule does not hold good. In the prepositionof,fhas the sound ofv. In the matter of inflection the temptation to retain this letter in spite of the change of sound has been successfully resisted. So we very properly saycalvesandwolvesinstead ofcalfsandwolfs, though this course exhibits what some must feel to be a scandalous tendency toward phonetic spelling. The other letter ism. The only exception to its regular pronunciation is found in the word sometimes spelledcomptroller. Here it has the sound ofn. But this has already been pointed out as a well-known spurious form based upon a spurious derivation. Its first syllable was supposed to come from the Frenchcompterand not from its real original, the Latincontra. The affection for this corrupt form now felt by some is in curious contrast with the attitude taken towardcountboth as a verb and a noun. These wordswere once often spelled like the corresponding Frenchcompteandcompter. There was justification for this. They all came from the remote Latin originalcomputare, in which thepis found. Naturally this particular spelling was especially prevalent in the sixteenth century, when derivation ran rampant in the orthography; but the practice extended much later. Hadcomptcontinued in use and fastened itself upon the language, we can imagine, but we cannot adequately express, the indignation that would now be felt by many worthy people at the proposal of any reformer to substitute for itcount, and the picture of ruin to the speech that would be drawn as a result of such a wanton defiance of the derivation.
Let us now consider the unpronounced consonants. In the remote past such letters when no longer wanted were regularly dropped. Now they are as regularly retained. They are retained not because they are needed, but because they have become familiar to the eye. They naturally fall into three classes, according as they appear at the beginning, at the end, or in the middle of a word. To the first class belonggandkwhen followed byn;wfollowed byhoor byr; and the aspirateh. The failure to pronounce this last in certain words is too wellknown to need here more than a reference. Elsewhere, too, I have given an account of the gradual resumption of the sound of this letter.[23]
There are about half a dozen words in which an initialgis silent. Of thesegnawandgnatmay be taken as examples. There are more than double this number in which an initialkbefore the same letternis not heard. These are adequately represented, with the different vowels following, byknave,knee,knife,know, andknuckle. Still more frequently unsounded is an initialw. There are fully two dozen and a half of words in which this letter is not pronounced. The class finds satisfactory exemplification inwho,whole,wrap,wrest,wrist,wrong, andwry. In making up these numbers it must be kept in mind that neither derivatives nor compounds are taken into account. Were such to be included, the list would be largely swelled.
In the cases just considered a letter once sounded has disappeared from the spoken tongue. The fact of its disappearance from pronunciation has not, however, induced men, as was once the practice, to discard it from the written tongue. But there are instances in which the initial consonant has never been heardat all in the utterance of any speakers. The words to which they belong are of foreign origin. They come to us with the foreign spelling. In many cases, or rather in most, they are from the Greek. The conspicuous examples are thecofczar, now frequently spelledtsarwith thetsounded, thepofpsalmandpseudoand of several compounds in which thepsiof the Hellenic alphabet furnishes the initial letter. The same uselessness extends toph—seen, for illustration, in the formphthisic—and to thepof words of Greek origin beginning withpt. It may be remarked in passing that there is a curious blunder in the spelling of the name of the bird called theptarmigan. This is a pure Celtic word, which begins witht. To it apwas prefixed, possibly because it was supposed to be of Greek origin.
The final consonants which are retained in the spelling but are not heard in the pronunciation areb,n,h,t,w, andx. The words possessing them may be divided into two classes. In one the useless letter has a sort of claim to existence. It was there originally. Let us begin with the unpronounced finalb. The native words ending in it areclimb,comb,dumb, andlamb. They are common to the various Teutonic languages. In all of these they terminatedoriginally with this consonant. To the list may be addedplumb, ‘perpendicular,’ coming remotely from the Latinplumbum, ‘lead.’ The spelling of these words underwent the usual variations common before a fixed orthography had fastened itself upon the speech. Naturally the unpronouncedbwas not unfrequently dropped. This was especially true ofclimbanddumb. Take as an illustration Spenser’s line, where he speaks of a castle-wall,
That was so high as foe might not it clime.[24]
But after the reign of Elizabeth the useless letter gradually but firmly fixed its hold upon the spelling in the case of all these words. In this respect English has had a different development from that of other Teutonic tongues. Take modern German, for instance. For the word corresponding toclimbit has replaced the originalchlimbanbyklimmen; forchamb, ‘comb,’ it has substitutedkamm; fordumbin Old High Germantumb, it hasdumm; forlamb, in Old High Germanlamb, it haslamm. The dropping of the finalbseems to have wrought no observable harm to the language nor occasionedany grief—at all events, any present grief—to its users.
Still, it may be maintained in justification of the present spelling of these words that they are entitled to the finalbon the ground of derivation. But no such plea can be put up in the case of those now to be considered. These arecrumb,limb,numb, andthumb. In all of these the last letter is not only useless, but according to the term one chooses to employ, it is either a blunder or a corruption. It did not exist in the original. In truth, this unnecessary consonant threatened at one time to fasten itself also upon the name of the fruit called theplum. Especially was this noticeable in the best literature of the eighteenth century. An attack of common sense, to which the users of our orthography have been occasionally liable, prevented this particular word from carrying about the burden of the unpronouncedb. In the case of most of the others it was not until the sixteenth century that the practice began of appending the unauthorized and unneeded letter. It took something of a struggle to foist it upon these words; but not so much, indeed, as will be required to loose the hold it has now gained over the hearts of thousands.
There are a few words, almost all of Latinderivation, in which a finalnappears unsounded.Kilnis perhaps the only one of English extraction in which this peculiarity appears. In the case of most of them the retention of the letter may be defended—at least it may be palliated—on the ground that in the derivatives its pronunciation is resumed. Inautumn,column,condemn,hymn, andlimnthenis silent, but it gives distinct evidence of its existence in words likeautumnal,columnar,condemnation,hymnal,limner, andsolemnity. In fact, this resumption of the sound has at times been made to appear in other parts of the verbs containing this silent letter. Especially has this been true ofhymningandlimning, the participles ofhymnandlimn. It was a practice which much grieved certain of the earlier orthoepists. They took the ground that analogy forbade any sound not belonging to the principal verb itself to be heard in any of its parts. The observation is only noticeable for its revelation of the fact that it should enter into the head of any advocate of the existing orthography to set up analogy as a convincing reason for pronouncing any English word in a particular way.
Three of these final unpronounced letters do not need protracted consideration. In the digraphow, ending such words aslow,flow, andsow, thewserves no particular use. According to some it justifies its existence by indicating the quality of the preceding vowel. Its value in this respect may be estimated by comparing the pronunciation ofbow, a missile weapon for discharging an arrow, withbow, an inclination of the head, orbow, the fore-end of a boat. The next lettert, when a final consonant, is invariably heard, save in some imperfectly naturalized words. Of theseeclatandbillet-douxmay be taken as examples. In England, however—not in the United States—there is a single and singular survival of the original French pronunciation in the case of a word received into full citizenship. This is the nountrait, which came into the language in the eighteenth century. Naturally its final letter was at first not sounded. The tendency so to do, however, soon showed itself. Lexicographers authorized it, indeed favored it; but for some inexplicable reason Englishmen have never taken kindly to the complete naturalization of the word. “Thet,” said Walker, at the end of the eighteenth century, “begins to be pronounced.” Had he been living at the end of the nineteenth, he would have been justified in saying precisely the same thing as regards England. It wasbeginning then; it is beginning now; but it is only beginning.
A finalhis not pronounced when preceded by a vowel; when preceded by the consonantgit forms a digraph which will be considered later. There are fewer than a dozen words of the former class in which it appears. Among these are the interjections,ah,eh, andoh. Here again, as in the case ofw, the existence of the letter is defended on the ground that it indicates the quality of the preceding vowel. Yet for this purpose it can hardly be deemed a necessity. We use it in the case ofah; but we get along very well without it in the case ofha. This, too, was formerly sometimes spelledhah.Oh, likewise, was once widely found in the very instances and the very senses where we now use the single letterO. In two other words,Messiahandhallelujah, thehmay be retained because of the sacredness of associations which have gathered about them. Yet the former word was itself a sixteenth-century alteration of the previousMessias.
The unpronounced finalkbelongs strictly to the class of double letters of which it is not my purpose to treat. It invariably followsc, and is really nothing but a duplicate of it. Still, as the sign is a different representation of thesame sound, it may be well to bestow upon it a brief attention. At the end of the eighteenth and the beginning of the nineteenth century it was dropped, after a warm contest, from words of Latin derivation. But the reform did not extend to those of native origin. In many cases akhas been added to words which originally ended inc. Especially was this true of monosyllables. Thus the earliest form ofbackwasbæc, ofsackwassac, ofsickwasseoc. This was the case not only with a good many monosyllables to which akis now appended, but to a certain extent with dissyllables also. The fact is best exemplified in the words which have the endingock. This sometimes represents the early English diminutiveuc, which became laterocorok. From the point of view of derivation the modern spelling is distinctly improper. Thus, for illustration,bullock,haddock,hassock,hillock, andmattockwere in their earliest known formsbulluc,haddoc,hassuc,hilloc, andmattuc. Several words not of native origin have also adopted this ending.Hammock, from the Spanishhamaca, itself of Carib origin, has conformed to it. It has supplied itself with a finalk. During the last centuryhavocmanaged to get rid of this consonant, with which it had been encumbered, without excitingany special remark. But now that the uselessness of a letter has become to many one of the chief recommendations of the spelling, the dropping of an unnecessarykfrom any of the other words of this class would bring unspeakable anguish to thousands.
There are more consonants which are unpronounced in the middle of words than at the beginning or the end. They areb,c,l,g,h,p,s,t,w, andz. In the case of some of them—the two last, for instance—the words in which the unpronounced letter appears are very few. Inrendezvouszis not sounded. It is the only instance in which this consonant is not heard, and this is due to the fact that it is not heard in its French original. Again, it is only inanswer,sword, andtwothat the medialwis silent. Unpronounced consonants are more frequent in the case of the other letters, but, after all, they are not numerous in themselves. Still, their presence has its usual effect. In every instance it raises a stumbling-block in the way of the proper pronunciation. Furthermore, it has in some cases either hidden the right derivation entirely or given a wrong idea of it.
Take the example of the medialbindebtanddoubt. These words, coming originally from the French, were introduced into the languagewith the spelling,dette,det, anddoute,dout. So for a long time they were spelled. Deference to the remote Latin original, which sprang up with the revival of learning, introduced the unauthorizedbinto the world. It has already been pointed out that this has given an opportunity, which has been fully improved, for the devotees of derivation to exhibit their usual inconsistency. When the presence of unpronounced letters in the case of other words presents an obstacle to correct pronunciation, then its retention is insisted upon as essential to our knowledge of its immediate origin, to the purity of the language itself, and to the happiness of those speaking it. But no advocate of the existing orthography could be induced to part with thebofdebtanddoubt, though its presence comes into direct conflict with the views he is championing in the case of other words. At times attempts were apparently made to pronounce the insertedb. In the full Latinized formdebit, which was early in use, there was no difficulty. Indeed, it was a necessity. Not so in the formdebt. Yet it is evident fromLove’s Labour’s Lostthat there were men who sought to accomplish this feat. It is difficult to ascertain whether speaker or hearer suffered more in consequence of this effort. If unsuccessful, itwas the speaker; if successful, the pain was transferred to the hearer.
One curious blunder has been foisted upon our spelling by the desire of men to go back to the Latin original of these words instead of contenting themselves with the immediate French one. The insertion ofbis bad enough inredoubtedandredoubtable. These came to us from the latter tongue, and at first appeared in English in the formsredoutedandredoutable. Later the classical influence made itself felt and thebwas inserted. Palliation for it could be pleaded on the ground that the letter belonged to the remote original. But no defence of this sort could be of avail in the case of the word denoting the military outwork called aredoubt. This has not the slightest connection either in sense or origin with the two adjectives just specified. It comes directly from the Frenchredoutand remotely from the Latinreductus, ‘withdrawn,’ ‘retired,’ which received at a later period the meaning of ‘a place of refuge.’ But it was ignorantly supposed that it came from the same source as the verbredoubtand its past participleredoubted. So from the beginning of the introduction of the word into the language, in the early part of the seventeenth century, an unauthorizedbwas made part of it.It is now dear to the hearts of millions. What the blundering of one age perpetrated the superstition of succeeding ages has invested with peculiar sanctity.
The cases in whichcfollowsspresent several choice examples of the vagaries which make English orthography a wonder to those who study its history, and a perpetual joy and boast to those who in this matter succeed in keeping the purity of their ignorance from being denied by the slightest stain of knowledge. In the wordsscene,scepter, andsciatica, coming directly or remotely from the Greek, the letter represents an originalk. So, useless as it is, its retention may be defended on the ground that if it be not the same letter, it ought to be, since it has the same value. The similar apology of respect for derivation may be urged for the unpronouncedcofscience,scintilla, andsciolist. But in the case ofscent,scion,scimitar,scissors, andscythe, no such plea can be made. In the instance of all these there is not the slightest justification for the unnecessaryc.Scentcomes from the Latinsent-ire, ‘to perceive.’ Until the seventeenth century it was regularly spelledsent.Scythe, from the Anglo-Saxonsîthe, once frequently and now occasionally has its strictly correct etymological form.Scionis from the old Frenchsion.Scimitarandscissorshave had a wide variety of spellings during the course of their history. English orthography has exhibited, as is not unusual, a perverse preference for the ones which depart furthest from the pronunciation.
The instances wheregis silent within a word are those in which it is found precedingmorn. Its presence it owes, in most instances, to derivation. Examples of it can be found in a number of words of Greek extraction, of whichparadigm,diaphragm, andphlegmmay be given. With a followingnit can be represented bycampaign,feign,sign, andimpugn. As has been the case with the finalnof certain words, so also the pronunciation of thegis resumed in the derivatives. That may be deemed by some a justification for its retention in the primitive—at least, for the time being. Withsignwe havesignify, withmalignwe havemalignity, withphlegmwe havephlegmatic. But thegis a particularly ridiculous intruder in the wordsforeignandsovereign. The former is from the Old Frenchforein, which itself comes from the popular Latinforaneus, and this in turn comes from the classical Latinforas, ‘out of doors.’Sovereignis a spelling just as bad. It comes from the Old Frenchsovrain, the LowLatinsuperanus, ‘supreme,’ which was formed upon the prepositionsuper, ‘above.’ The insertion of agwas a blunder for which our race has the sole responsibility.
There are two kinds of words in whichhis silent following an initial letter. This is invariably true of words of Greek extraction beginning withrh.Rhetoric,rheumatic, andrhubarbmay serve as specimens. In these, as in those like them, thehwas wanting in Old French. Consequently, it was at first wanting in English also. But the deference to derivation which prevailed among the classically educated after the revival of learning, raised havoc here with the spelling as it did in so many other instances. The unpronouncedhwas inserted into all these words. This began in the sixteenth century. It gradually established itself firmly in the orthography. There it has remained ever since, though no one pretends that it serves any purpose save that of indicating to the few, who do not need to be informed, that the aspirate existed in the original from which these words were derived. But even this pitiable reason cannot be pleaded in the case of the noticeable words in whichhfollows an initialg. These areghastlyandaghast,ghost, andgherkin. In not one of them, except the last, didhappeartill many hundred years after the words had been in existence. To not one of them does the useless letter belong by right. Indeed, it was apparently not till the nineteenth century that it was foisted intogherkinas the regular spelling, though it had cropped up before. There would be just as much sense in spellingGermanasGherman, andgoatasghoat, as there is in the intrusion of thehinto the words just mentioned. This is equally true ofanchor.
There is, however, one further peculiarity about this letter. In the spelling of certain words it followsw, in the pronunciation of them it precedes it. But the fashion of suppressing the sound of the aspirate in the combinationwhis very characteristic of the speech of England, at least of some parts of it. The prevalence of this sort of pronunciation which makes no distinction, for example, betweenwhereandwear, betweenWhigandwig, betweenwhileandwile, was a subject of great, and it may be added, of justifiable grief to the earlier orthoepists. Walker complained bitterly of the extent of its use in London. He was anxious that men should “avoid this feeble Cockney pronunciation which is so disagreeable to a correct ear.” Fortunately for the speech this suppression of the aspirate has not extended muchbeyond the southern half of England. In America it rarely takes place. There is, therefore, every likelihood of this pronunciation being eventually crushed, not so much because of its own inherent viciousness as by the mere weight of numbers.
There is a limited body of words in whichlandpare silent. The former letter in such cases asbalmandcalm, for instance, may perhaps have been effective in preserving the sound of the preceding vowel. The most signal example of its appearance, where it has no justification for its existence, is in the wordcould. This takes the place of the earlier and more correctcoude,coud. Thelwas introduced by a false analogy withwouldandshould. These two last words, it may be added, at times dropped this letter, to which etymologically they were entitled, out of deference to the pronunciation, just ascould, though not entitled to it, assumed it in defiance of the pronunciation.
The most noticeable instances in whichpis not pronounced are when it followsmand is itself followed byt.Empty,tempt,prompt, andsumptuouswill supply a sufficient number of illustrations. In most of these cases the letter still appears because it was in the original. Inempty, however, it is a later insertion. Thereare two or three sporadic instances in which apis present but fails to be called upon for duty. Such areraspberryandreceipt. In the first of these tworasberryseems to have been for a long time the preferred spelling. Unless there is a prospect that the sound of the letter will be resumed in the pronunciation, there is no apparent reason why we should not go back to the once more common form. Butreceipt, with the alliedconceitanddeceit, furnishes as good an illustration as can well be offered of the vagaries of English orthography, and of the system which has prevailed in and the sense which has presided over its development. These three words all come remotely from the three closely allied participial formsreceptus,conceptus, anddeceptus. The earlier most common spelling of the first wasreceitorreceyt. While the form with the insertedpexisted previously, it was not till the Elizabethan period that it began to be much in evidence. Furthermore, it was not till the latter part of the seventeenth century that the unnecessary letter established itself in the unfortunate word.Conceitanddeceitwent through what was in many respects the same experience. The formsconceiptanddeceiptwere found not unfrequently. But in them thepfailed to maintain itself.So words from a common Latin root have developed two different ways of spelling, with not the slightest reason in the nature of things why any distinction whatever should be made between them.
The silence ofsin some few words, such asisle,aisle, andisland, has already been mentioned. Inviscountit is also suppressed, doubtless in deference to the French original. But in the middle of wordstis far more frequently left unpronounced thans. This is especially noticeable when it is followed byleon the one hand, as can be seen incastle,wrestle,thistle,ostler, andrustle; on the other hand, when followed byen, as infasten,hasten,listen, andmoisten. There are a few other words besides those with these endings in which it is silent. Such areChristmas,chestnut,mortgage,bankruptcy. That it should not be heard in words of French origin likebillet-douxandhautboisis not hard to understand; they have never been fully naturalized.
This exhausts the list of simple consonants that are found in the written language, but are not heard in the spoken. There remains, however, a digraph which is encountered too frequently not to receive brief mention. This isgh, both at the end and in the middle of words. In these positions it once stood for something.It had, therefore, originally a right to the place in which it now appears. But the guttural sound it indicated disappeared long ago from the usage of all of us. Even the knowledge that it had ever existed has disappeared from the memory of most of us, if it was ever found there. Accordingly it serves now no other purpose than to act as a sort of tombstone to mark the place where lie the unsightly remains of a dead and forgotten pronunciation. The useless digraph is still seen at the end of numerous words of whichweigh,high, anddoughmay be taken as examples. Again an unpronounced medialghis seen inneighborand a large number of words ending inght, such ascaught,height,fight, andthought. In many of these words the digraph was frequently dropped in those earlier days when there was a perverse propensity to make the spelling show some respect to the pronunciation.High, for instance, often appeared in the formshye,hy;nighin the formsnye,ny. This is now all changed. The disposition to pander to any sneaking desire to bring about a scandalous conformity between orthography and orthoepy is steadily frowned upon by those who have been good enough to take upon their shoulders the burden of preserving what they are pleased to call the purity of the English language.
This survey of the subject, brief as it is, brings out distinctly the superiority of the consonant system over the vowel, in the matter of unpronounced letters. Far from perfect as is the former, it shines by contrast with the latter. The useless consonant appears in but a few words, where the useless vowel appears in scores. But when we pass on to the cases in which the sign is represented by any but its legitimate sound, the contrast between the two classes of letters becomes far more noticeable. It is the superiority in this particular which alone makes our present spelling endurable. Most of the consonants, if pronounced at all, have in all cases one and the same sound. Any possible acquisition of the speech in the term of a man’s natural life has depended upon the fact that these members of the alphabet are in general really phonetic. Their faithfulness to their legitimate sounds stands in sharpest contrast to the almost hopeless disorganization which has overtaken the vowels. In the case of some of the consonants there is never any variation from their proper pronunciation. In the case of others the exceptions to the regular practice are purely sporadic. Thepofcupboard, for instance, has the sound ofb, thejofhallelujahhas the sound ofy. Even these exceptionswhich have prevailed in the past there has been a tendency to reduce, owing to the operation of agencies of which there will be occasion to speak later.
This last statement needs modification in the case of one letter. In modern times there has been a tendency to represent the sound oftin the preterite and past participle byd, or, rather,ed. As compared with the usage of the past, this practice has made a good deal of headway. It is the substitution of a formal regularity of spelling which appeals to the eye over its proper use to indicate the sound to the ear. We have not yet got so far as to writesleepedforsleptorfeeledforfelt, but we have frequentlydwelledfordweltandbuildedforbuilt. This is all proper enough if thedsound is given to the ending by pronouncing the word, as is often done, as a dissylable. But no reason can be pleaded for it iftis heard as the termination. In this matter we are far behind our fathers.
Take the usage of Spenser, as illustrated on this point in the first canto of the first book of theFaerie Queene. This contains about five hundred lines. In every case whenever a preterite or past participle has the sound oft, it is spelled witht. In this one canto—and it fairly represents all the others—can be foundthe preteritesadvaunst,approcht,chaunst,enhaunst,forst,glaunst,grypt,knockt,lept,lookt,nurst,pusht,y-rockt,stopt, andtost. Along with these are to be seen as past participlesaccurst,enforst,mixt,past,promist,stretcht,vanquisht, andwrapt. Now, to a certain extent this is an unfair illustration. No one can read theFaerie Queenewithout becoming aware that Spenser was a good deal of a spelling reformer. Necessarily, he was largely dominated by the ignoble idea that orthography should have a close connection with the pronunciation. Still, though in certain particulars he took very advanced ground, he only practiced on a large scale what on a small scale was followed by very many of his contemporaries and immediate successors.
We pass on now to the consideration of the six sounds for which the alphabet has no special sign whatever. Two of them are the surd and sonant sounds, already considered, for which the digraphthhas become the common representative. It may be right to add that this same digraph is also equivalent in a few cases to the simplet, as inthymeandThames. The four other sounds can be recognized perhaps most easily in thechofchurch, thengofbring, theshofship, and thesofpleasure. But here,as elsewhere in our orthography, reigns the usual lawlessness. The signs here given represent other sounds than those just specified. Take the case ofng. Any one can detect at once the difference in the pronunciation of this digraph by contrasting it as heard insingerand as heard infinger. Nor haschbeen limited to the sound indicated inchair,cheer,child,choose, andchurn. It has another, perhaps more frequently denoted byshin the beginning, middle, and end of words, as, for illustration, inchaise,machine, andbench. It has likewise the sound ofkin many words, especially in those of Greek origin, such ascharacter,mechanic,monarch. The uncertainty caused by this variety of pronunciation is particularly noticeable in words in whicharchappears as the initial syllable. Inarchangel, for instance,chhas one pronunciation, inarchbishopit has another. The difference between the two must therefore be painfully learned. There is, furthermore, the sporadic example ofchoir, in whichchhas the sound ofkw, ordinarily represented byqu. Butchoirwas a late seventeenth-century importation into the language. Though to some extent it has replaced the original formquire, it has invariably retained the pronunciation of that word.
Finally, there are the two sounds specifiedabove, as denoted by thesofpleasureand theshofship. The former has a respectable number of signs to indicate it. Besides thesfound in such words asmeasure,usury,enclosure, it is represented bysi, as seen indecision,evasion,occasion; byz, as inazure,razure,seizure; byzi, as inglazier,grazier,vizier. It is, however, the second of these sounds that has the greatest variety of signs to denote it. In this respect it rivals many of the vowels or vowel combinations, and surpasses some of them. It is heard in theceofocean, and in particular in no small number of words mainly scientific, with the endingaceous, such ascretaceousandcetaceous; in theciof words likesocial,gracious,suspicion; in thesofsure,sugar,censure,nauseate; in thetofsatiate,expatiate,substantiate; in thetiofmartial,patient,nation, and the vast number of words which have the terminationtion; inxiinanxious,obnoxious,complexion; insciinconscience,prescience; insi, as seen in no small number of words, such asmansion,vision,explosion. Finally, to illustrate the confusion which in the case of these signs has been still further confounded, we may instance theciofsocialwith the pronunciation just indicated, and theciof the related wordsocietywith a pronunciation entirely different. A precisely similar observationcould be made oftiin the case of the wordssatiateandsatiety.
Enough has certainly now been said to put beyond question the fact of the irrepressible conflict which goes on in our language between orthography and orthoepy, and to make clear its nature. The treatment of the subject has, indeed, been far from complete. Nothing whatever has been said on the large subject of the representation of sounds in the unaccented syllables. No account has been given of the usage of some of the letters or combinations of letters. In particular, in the matter of doubling the letters both in accented and unaccented syllables, contradictions and incongruities abound with us on a scale which ought to bring peculiar happiness to those devotees of the present orthography who believe that the worse a language is spelled the more distinctly it is to its credit. Still, of this characteristic there has been no consideration. Furthermore, page after page could have been taken up with illustrative examples of the anarchy of all sorts which reigns in every nook and corner of our spelling. We write, for instance,knowledgewith ad; but the place with the same terminating syllable where we go presumably to acquire it, which we call acollege, we are careful to write without ad.In the past one finds at times the formsknowlegeandcolledge. It is nothing but an accident of usage that we are not employing them now instead of the ones we have adopted.
It would be easy to go on multiplying examples of these inconsistencies. But though all that could be said is far from having been said, surely enough has been given to prove beyond possibility of denial the existence of the chaotic condition which prevails. Furthermore, while the subject has been by no means exhausted, the same statement cannot safely be made of the patience of the reader, to say nothing of that of the writer. If any one of the former body finds it tedious to wade through the account of the situation which has been given in the preceding pages, let him bear in mind how much more tedious it was for the author to prepare it. If he finds it exceedingly tedious, let him take to himself a sort of consolation in the reflection of how easily it could have been made even more so. Instead, therefore, of complaining of the abundance of minute detail which I have supplied, he ought to be thankful to me for keeping back so much of it as I have done. Moreover, as Heine pointed out long ago, the reader has at his command a resource to which he can always betake himself when hispowers of endurance give out. He can skip. This is a blessed privilege denied to the writer.
Incomplete, however, as has been the survey of the subject, it has been sufficient to give a fairly satisfactory idea of the way in which the orthography represents, or rather misrepresents, the pronunciation. It makes manifest beyond dispute the truth of the intimation conveyed at the outset that the form of a particular word is often, with us, little more than a fortuitous concourse of unrelated letters in which neither they nor the combinations into which they enter can be relied upon to indicate any particular sound. In addition, hundreds of those which appear in the spelling have no office in the pronunciation. Genuine derivation has led to the retention of some, spurious derivation to the introduction of others. There are, consequently, few of the common words of our language which cannot be spelled with perfect propriety in different ways, sometimes in half a dozen different ways, if the analogy be followed of words similarly formed and pronounced. Our orthography is, therefore, often a matter of contention and always a matter of study. Knowledge of the accepted form of words must be gained in each case independently, for there exists no general principle, the observance ofwhich will guide the learner to a correct conclusion.
As an inevitable result, the acquisition of spelling never calls into exercise, with us, the reasoning faculties. On the contrary, its direct effect is to keep them in abeyance. The ability to spell properly is an intellectual act only to the extent that attention and recollection are intellectual acts. It can and not unfrequently does characterize persons who are very far from being gifted with much mental power. All who attain proficiency in it are compelled to spend time which, under proper conditions, could have been far more profitably employed. There are men who do not attain it at an early age, and some even who never attain it at all. Moore, for illustration, speaking of Byron, tells us that spelling was “a very late accomplishment with him.”[25]The case of William Morris was far worse. This poet never learned to spell at all. The fact is recorded by his biographer. In speaking of the beauty of his handwriting, he had to admit the failure of his orthography to reach the standard set by it. “The subsidiary art of spelling,” he writes, “was always one in which he was liable to make curious lapses. ‘Iremember,’ the poet once said, ‘being taught to spell and standing on a chair with my shoes off because I made so many mistakes.’ In later years several sheets ofThe Life and Death of Jasonhad to be cancelled and reprinted because of a mistake in the spelling of a perfectly common English word; a word, indeed, so common that the printer’s reader had left it as it was in the manuscript, thinking that Morris’ spelling must be an intentional peculiarity.”[26]
The ignorance which exists in regard to the orthographic situation is bad enough; but the superstition which has been born of it is still worse. It is assumed to have come down to us pure and perfect from a remote past. Hence, it must be religiously preserved in all its assumed sacredness and genuine uncouthness. Even improvements which could be made with little difficulty, which would have no other result than bringing about with the least possible friction uniformity in certain classes of words—these slight alterations are assailed with almost as much earnestness and virulence as would be encountered by sweeping changes designed to make the spelling really phonetic.
As men are more apt to be interested in particularillustrations than in general discussion, it may be worth while to follow up the survey of the situation which has just been given with an account in detail of the history of a special class of words. In this once prevailed the tendency to bring about absolute uniformity. The movement was arrested before the desired result was attained. It left a few over thirty examples as exceptions to the general practice. In the derivatives of some of these it went back to the regular rule and consequently contributed exceptions to the exceptions. This condition of things has endeared these anomalies to the hearts of thousands. The class itself consists of the words ending inororour. About the proper way of spelling this termination controversy has raged for more than a hundred years. The examination of the whole class can be best carried on by selecting one of the words belonging to it as typical of all. To its story the next chapter will be largely confined.