Chapter III: The Orthographic Situation (3)

The cases in which _c_ follows _s_ present 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 words _scene_, _scepter_, and _sciatica_, coming directly or remotely from the Greek, the letter represents an original _k_. 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 unpronounced _c_ of _science_, _scintilla_, and _sciolist_. But in the case of _scent_, _scion_, _scimitar_, _scissors_, and _scythe_, no such plea can be made. In the instance of all these there is not the slightest justification for the unnecessary _c_. _Scent_ comes from the Latin _sent-ire_, ‘to perceive.’ Until the seventeenth century it was regularly spelled _sent_. _Scythe_, from the Anglo-Saxon _sîthe_, once frequently and now occasionally has its strictly correct etymological form. _Scion_ is from the old French _sion_. _Scimitar_ and _scissors_ have 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 where _g_ is silent within a word are those in which it is found preceding _m_ or _n_. Its presence it owes, in most instances, to derivation. Examples of it can be found in a number of words of Greek extraction, of which _paradigm_, _diaphragm_, and _phlegm_ may be given. With a following _n_ it can be represented by _campaign_, _feign_, _sign_, and _impugn_. As has been the case with the final _n_ of certain words, so also the pronunciation of the _g_ is resumed in the derivatives. That may be deemed by some a justification for its retention in the primitive--at least, for the time being. With _sign_ we have _signify_, with _malign_ we have _malignity_, with _phlegm_ we have _phlegmatic_. But the _g_ is a particularly ridiculous intruder in the words _foreign_ and _sovereign_. The former is from the Old French _forein_, which itself comes from the popular Latin _foraneus_, and this in turn comes from the classical Latin _foras_, ‘out of doors.’ _Sovereign_ is a spelling just as bad. It comes from the Old French _sovrain_, the Low Latin _superanus_, ‘supreme,’ which was formed upon the preposition _super_, ‘above.’ The insertion of a _g_ was a blunder for which our race has the sole responsibility.

There are two kinds of words in which _h_ is silent following an initial letter. This is invariably true of words of Greek extraction beginning with _rh_. _Rhetoric_, _rheumatic_, and _rhubarb_ may serve as specimens. In these, as in those like them, the _h_ was 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 unpronounced _h_ was 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 which _h_ follows an initial _g_. These are _ghastly_ and _aghast_, _ghost_, and _gherkin_. In not one of them, except the last, did _h_ appear till 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 into _gherkin_ as the regular spelling, though it had cropped up before. There would be just as much sense in spelling _German_ as _Gherman_, and _goat_ as _ghoat_, as there is in the intrusion of the _h_ into the words just mentioned. This is equally true of _anchor_.

There is, however, one further peculiarity about this letter. In the spelling of certain words it follows _w_, in the pronunciation of them it precedes it. But the fashion of suppressing the sound of the aspirate in the combination _wh_ is 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, between _where_ and _wear_, between _Whig_ and _wig_, between _while_ and _wile_, 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 much beyond 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 which _l_ and _p_ are silent. The former letter in such cases as _balm_ and _calm_, 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 word _could_. This takes the place of the earlier and more correct _coude_, _coud_. The _l_ was introduced by a false analogy with _would_ and _should_. 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 as _could_, though not entitled to it, assumed it in defiance of the pronunciation.

The most noticeable instances in which _p_ is not pronounced are when it follows _m_ and is itself followed by _t_. _Empty_, _tempt_, _prompt_, and _sumptuous_ will supply a sufficient number of illustrations. In most of these cases the letter still appears because it was in the original. In _empty_, however, it is a later insertion. There are two or three sporadic instances in which a _p_ is present but fails to be called upon for duty. Such are _raspberry_ and _receipt_. In the first of these two _rasberry_ seems 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. But _receipt_, with the allied _conceit_ and _deceit_, 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 forms _receptus_, _conceptus_, and _deceptus_. The earlier most common spelling of the first was _receit_ or _receyt_. While the form with the inserted _p_ existed 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. _Conceit_ and _deceit_ went through what was in many respects the same experience. The forms _conceipt_ and _deceipt_ were found not unfrequently. But in them the _p_ failed 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 of _s_ in some few words, such as _isle_, _aisle_, and _island_, has already been mentioned. In _viscount_ it is also suppressed, doubtless in deference to the French original. But in the middle of words _t_ is far more frequently left unpronounced than _s_. This is especially noticeable when it is followed by _le_ on the one hand, as can be seen in _castle_, _wrestle_, _thistle_, _ostler_, and _rustle_; on the other hand, when followed by _en_, as in _fasten_, _hasten_, _listen_, and _moisten_. There are a few other words besides those with these endings in which it is silent. Such are _Christmas_, _chestnut_, _mortgage_, _bankruptcy_. That it should not be heard in words of French origin like _billet-doux_ and _hautbois_ is 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 is _gh_, 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 which _weigh_, _high_, and _dough_ may be taken as examples. Again an unpronounced medial _gh_ is seen in _neighbor_ and a large number of words ending in _ght_, such as _caught_, _height_, _fight_, and _thought_. 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 forms _hye_, _hy_; _nigh_ in the forms _nye_, _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. The _p_ of _cupboard_, for instance, has the sound of _b_, the _j_ of _hallelujah_ has the sound of _y_. Even these exceptions which 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 of _t_ in the preterite and past participle by _d_, 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 write _sleeped_ for _slept_ or _feeled_ for _felt_, but we have frequently _dwelled_ for _dwelt_ and _builded_ for _built_. This is all proper enough if the _d_ sound is given to the ending by pronouncing the word, as is often done, as a dissylable. But no reason can be pleaded for it if _t_ is 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 the _Faerie Queene_. This contains about five hundred lines. In every case whenever a preterite or past participle has the sound of _t_, it is spelled with _t_. In this one canto--and it fairly represents all the others--can be found the preterites _advaunst_, _approcht_, _chaunst_, _enhaunst_, _forst_, _glaunst_, _grypt_, _knockt_, _lept_, _lookt_, _nurst_, _pusht_, _y-rockt_, _stopt_, and _tost_. Along with these are to be seen as past participles _accurst_, _enforst_, _mixt_, _past_, _promist_, _stretcht_, _vanquisht_, and _wrapt_. Now, to a certain extent this is an unfair illustration. No one can read the _Faerie Queene_ without 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 digraph _th_ has become the common representative. It may be right to add that this same digraph is also equivalent in a few cases to the simple _t_, as in _thyme_ and _Thames_. The four other sounds can be recognized perhaps most easily in the _ch_ of _church_, the _ng_ of _bring_, the _sh_ of _ship_, and the _s_ of _pleasure_. 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 of _ng_. Any one can detect at once the difference in the pronunciation of this digraph by contrasting it as heard in _singer_ and as heard in _finger_. Nor has _ch_ been limited to the sound indicated in _chair_, _cheer_, _child_, _choose_, and _churn_. It has another, perhaps more frequently denoted by _sh_ in the beginning, middle, and end of words, as, for illustration, in _chaise_, _machine_, and _bench_. It has likewise the sound of _k_ in many words, especially in those of Greek origin, such as _character_, _mechanic_, _monarch_. The uncertainty caused by this variety of pronunciation is particularly noticeable in words in which _arch_ appears as the initial syllable. In _archangel_, for instance, _ch_ has one pronunciation, in _archbishop_ it has another. The difference between the two must therefore be painfully learned. There is, furthermore, the sporadic example of _choir_, in which _ch_ has the sound of _kw_, ordinarily represented by _qu_. But _choir_ was a late seventeenth-century importation into the language. Though to some extent it has replaced the original form _quire_, it has invariably retained the pronunciation of that word.

Finally, there are the two sounds specified above, as denoted by the _s_ of _pleasure_ and the _sh_ of _ship_. The former has a respectable number of signs to indicate it. Besides the _s_ found in such words as _measure_, _usury_, _enclosure_, it is represented by _si_, as seen in _decision_, _evasion_, _occasion_; by _z_, as in _azure_, _razure_, _seizure_; by _zi_, as in _glazier_, _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 the _ce_ of _ocean_, and in particular in no small number of words mainly scientific, with the ending _aceous_, such as _cretaceous_ and _cetaceous_; in the _ci_ of words like _social_, _gracious_, _suspicion_; in the _s_ of _sure_, _sugar_, _censure_, _nauseate_; in the _t_ of _satiate_, _expatiate_, _substantiate_; in the _ti_ of _martial_, _patient_, _nation_, and the vast number of words which have the termination _tion_; in _xi_ in _anxious_, _obnoxious_, _complexion_; in _sci_ in _conscience_, _prescience_; in _si_, as seen in no small number of words, such as _mansion_, _vision_, _explosion_. Finally, to illustrate the confusion which in the case of these signs has been still further confounded, we may instance the _ci_ of _social_ with the pronunciation just indicated, and the _ci_ of the related word _society_ with a pronunciation entirely different. A precisely similar observation could be made of _ti_ in the case of the words _satiate_ and _satiety_.

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, _knowledge_ with a _d_; but the place with the same terminating syllable where we go presumably to acquire it, which we call a _college_, we are careful to write without a _d_. In the past one finds at times the forms _knowlege_ and _colledge_. 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 his powers 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 of which 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. ‘I remember,’ 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 of _The Life and Death of Jason_ had 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 particular illustrations 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 in _or_ or _our_. 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.

FOOTNOTES:

[16] _Duchess of Powysland_, chap. x.

[17]

And add to these retired leisure
That in trim garden takes his pleasure.

--_Il Penseroso._

[18] See page 105.

[19] _Memoir of the Life and Writings of the late William Taylor of Norwich._ London, 1843. Southey to Taylor, July 13, 1803, vol. i, p. 466.

[20] See page 125.

[21] “The church is one huge nef with a double Aisle to it.”--Addison, _Remarks on Several Parts of Italy, etc._ First edition, 1705, p. 493.

[22] In Professor Arber’s accurate reprint of the original edition, the word, spelled as _frend_, can be found on pages, 20, 21, 22, 24, 43, 73, 75, 87, 89, 90, 91, 94, 99, 113, 121, 140, 149, 154, and 158. In some instances the word appears two or more times on the page. On pages 23 (twice) and 113 is found _frendly_, and on page 140 _frendship_. Nowhere does the _i_ appear in these last two words. The solitary instance of the spelling _friend_ is on page 112.

[23] _Standard of Pronunciation in English_, pp. 191-202.

[24] _Faerie Queene_, Book II, canto ix, st. 21.

[25] _Moore’s Diary_, vol. v, p. 249.

[26] _The Life of William Morris_, by J. W. Mackail, London, 1899, vol. i, p. 8.