POSTSCRIPT.
The foregoing remarks were written before I had seen the opinions of that judicious and elegant writer, East Apthorp, M. A. vicar of Croydon, on the same history. The following passage is too directly in point to be omitted. It is in his "Second Letter on the Study of History."
"I was disappointed in my expectations of instruction from this book (Gibbon's History) when I discerned that the author had adopted that entertaining but superficial manner of writing history, which was first introduced by the Abbe de Vertot, whose History of the Revolutions in the Government of the Roman Republic, is one of those agreeable and seducing models which never fail of producing a multitude of imitations. There is, in this way of writing, merit enough to recommend it to such readers, and such writers, as propose to themselves no higher aim, than an elegant literary amusement: It piques their curiosity, while it gratifies their indolence. The historian has the advantage, in this way, of passing over such events and institutions as, however essential to the science of history, are less adapted to shine in the recital. By suppressing facts and violating chronology; by selecting the most pleasing incidents and placing them in a striking point of view, by the coloring and drapery of stile and composition, the imagination is gratified with a gaudy spectacle of triumphs and revolutions passing in review before it; while the rapid succession of great events affords a transient delight, without leaving useful and lasting impressions either on the memory or judgement; or fixing those principles which ought to be the result of historic information.
"Nor is it the worst consequence of this slight and modish way of compiling history, that it affords to supine and unreflecting readers a barren entertainment, to fill up the vacant hours of indolence and dissipation. The historian who gives himself the privilege of mutilating and selecting, and arranging at discretion the records of past ages, has full scope to obtrude on his careless readers any system that suits with his preconceived opinions or particular views in writing."—"The only legitimate study of history is in original historians."
The same writer complains of a decline of literature in Great Britain, fixing the "settlement that followed the revolution," as the era of true science and greatness. He remarks that the "aim of modern writers seems to be to furnish their readers with fugitive amusement, and that ancient literature is become rather the ornament of our libraries, than the accomplishment of our minds; being supplanted by the modish productions which are daily read and forgotten."
For proof of what I have advanced respecting the sound of c in Rome, I would observe, that the genitive case of the first declension in Latin anciently ended in ai, which was probably copied from the Greeks; for it is very evident the Latin æ in later writers, was the true representative of the Greek ai. Thus Mousai in Greek was translated into the Roman tongue, musæ. Now c before ai had the sound of k; for where the Romans wrote cæ the Greeks wrote kai. Thus musica, musicæ in the first declension must have been pronounced musika, musikai, not musisee, as we now pronounce the æ.
As a further proof, we may appeal to the laws of the Roman poetry, by which dipthongs were always long, having the sound of two vowels combined.
But a decisive proof that c before the vowels a, o, u and the dipthongs, had the power of k, is that the Greeks always translated the c in kappa. They wrote Cæsar, Kaisaros, &c.
In confirmation of which I may add, that the Germans, among whom the word Cæsar became common to all emperors, and now signifies emperor, spell it Kaisar; and in the pronunciation they preserve the true Roman sound of Cæsar.[179]
That the Roman c before e and i had the force of ch or tsh, is probable from the present practice of the Italians, who would be the most likely to retain the pure Roman pronunciation. In modern Italian ce, ci are pronounced che, chi; as dolcemente, Cicero, pronounced dolchemente, Chichero.
In this opinion I am supported by Dr. Middleton, who seems to have been thoroughly versed in Roman literature. It may gratify the learned reader to see his own words. De Lat. Liter. pron. differ.
"Ante vocales a, o, v[180] eundem olim sonum habuisse ac hodie habet certissimum est: qualem autem ante reliquas e et i, diphthongosque æ, œ, ev habuerit, haud ita convenit. Angli illam Gallique etiam, haud ab s distinguunt, in Cœna, Cæsar, Ceres, cinis, &c. at in iisdem Itali, quod Romanos etiam fecisse olim existimo, eum huic literæ sonum tribuunt, quo nos ch efferimus, in vocibus nostris, cheek, cherry, cheap, &c. itaque pronunciant Cicero, uti nos Chichester, chicheley, &c. ita tamen ac si ante c, cum in medio vocis sequatur vocalem, litera t leviter admodum et subobscure sonanda interponeretur; ut Citcero, Chitchester, quam pronuntiandi rationem expressisse plane sculptor quidam videtur, qui in inscriptione veteri contra orthographiæ regulas, t ante c interposuit in nomine Vrbitcius."
He observes however that Lipsius ridicules this opinion, and contends that c had in all cases the force of k. This the Doctor ascribes to his partiality for the pronunciation of his countrymen, the Germans, which, he says, has often led him into errors. For altho k before a, o, u used frequently to be written for c, as Karcer for Carcer, yet it never took the place of c before e and i; we never find Karker for Carcer.
But that c had the sound of our ch, is probable from another fact: In old inscriptions it is found that c was often used for t before i; condicio for conditio, palacium for palatium. Now ch in English have a compound sound, which begins with that of t, and hence ti and ci in English have taken the sound of ch or sh. It is evident therefore that c before i had a great affinity to ti; an affinity which is still preserved in the Italian language. These circumstances give us reason to believe that ci and ti in condicio and palatium, were both pronounced chi, condichio, palachium. This sound of ci agrees perfectly well with the Saxon sound in cild, pronounced child; cele, now pronounced chill, as I have remarked above; text, page [72].
I shall not enter into a particular discussion of the question, whether h is a mark of sound or not. By its convertibility with k and c in the ancient languages, we have reason to conclude that it once had a guttural sound, and the pronunciation of some northern nations of Europe confirms the opinion. But it appears in modern English to have no sound by itself; it however affects, in some degree, the sound of the vowel to which it is prefixed, by previously opening the mouth wider than is necessary to articulate the vowel. Thus in hand we hear no sound but of and; yet in pronouncing hand we open the throat wider, and emit the breath with violence before we begin the sound, which makes an obvious difference in pronouncing the words and and hand; and perhaps this distinction is perceiveable as far as the words can be heard. The same may be said of th in think.
The instance of a man who lost a dinner by telling his servant to eat it, when he meant to tell him to heat it, affords a useful lesson to those who are disposed to treat the letter h with too much neglect.
That i short is the same sound as ee we have the authority of one of the first and best English grammarians. "Hunc sonum, (ee) quoties correptus est, Angli per i breve, exprimunt; quum vero producitur, scribunt ut plurimum per ee, non raro tamen per ie; vel etiam per ea; ut, sit, fit, feel, fill, fiend, near," &c.—— Wallis, Gram. Sect. 2.
Ash confirms the opinion. "Ee has one sound, as in see, thee, and coincides with the narrow i."—Gram. Diss. pref. to his Dic.
Kenrick's arrangement of the long and short vowels is exactly similar to mine.
Sheridan entertains a different opinion respecting the short i and e. He considers them as distinct vowels, incapable of prolongation. Rhet. Gram. pref. to his Dict. page 16. In this he differs from most other writers upon the subject, who have attended to the philosophical distinctions of sounds. This appears to be an inaccuracy in his distribution of the vowels; altho it cannot affect the practice of speaking.
The sound of the Roman i, it is agreed on all hands, was that of the English ee. It retains that sound still in the Italian, French and Spanish, which are immediately derived from the Latin. It had its long and short sounds in Latin; as in vidi, homini; the first pronounced veedee, and the last homini, as we now pronounce i in fill. The French preserve the long sound, and lay it down as a general rule, that i is pronounced like the English ee: Yet in discourse they actually shorten the sound, and in sentimens, ressentiment, &c. pronounce i as we do in civil. In the French motif, i is long like ee; in this and all similar terminations, we shorten the sound, motiv. Mr. Sheridan, in this particular, is evidently singular and probably wrong.
That e in let is but the short abrupt sound of a in late, is not so clear; but to me is evident. There is little or no difference in the position of the organs with which we pronounce both vowels. The Roman, Italian, Spanish and French e is considered as the representative of the English a in late, made; and yet in common discourse, it is shortened into the sound of e in let, men: Witness, legere, avec, emmené, bueno, entendido: We observe the same in English; for said, any, many, which are pronounced sed, enny, menny, exhibit the same vowel or short a; the e being the abrupt sound of ai in said. I must therefore differ from Mr. Sheridan, and still believe that e in let, and i in fit, are capable of prolongation. Children, when, instead of a comparison, they would express the superlative by an emphasis, say leetle instead of little; which is a mere prolongation of i short.
Mr. Sheridan, in my opinion, is guilty of an error of greater consequence, in marking the two qualities of sound in bard and bad with the same figure. He distinguishes the different qualities of sound in pool and full, and in not and naught; and why he should omit the distinction of sound in bard and bad, ask and man, is to me inconceiveable. The last distinction is as obvious as the others which he has marked; and the defect of his scheme must lead a foreigner into mistakes. His scheme is singular; Kenrick, Perry and Burn all make a distinction in the time of pronouncing a in ask and at; and even Scott, who copies Sheridan's pronunciation almost implicitly, still makes the same distinction.
"Non multum differt hic sonus (w) ab Anglorum oo; Gallorum ou, Germanorum u pingui, rapidissime pronunciatis; adeoque a quibusdam pro vocali fuit habita, cum tamen revera consona sit, quanquam ipsi vocali admodum sit affinis."——Wallis.
"It is indeed on the celerity of utterance, that all the difference, in many cases, between consonants and vowels depends; as in w and y, in English; which, being discharged quickly, perform the office of consonants, in giving form only to the succeeding vowel; but when protracted or drawled out, acquire a tone and become the vocal oo and ee."——Kenrick, Rhet. Gram. p. 4.
Perry has adopted this opinion and contends warmly that w is a consonant. If w is a vowel, says he, then wool, wolf, will be pronounced oo-ool, oo-olf, or ool, olf. I am sensible that in the beginning of words, w has not precisely the power of oo; but it is not clear from this fact that it has the properties of a consonant. Place a vowel before w, as, ow, and there is no compression of the lips or other parts of the mouth, to obstruct the sound, as there is produced by b or m, in eb and em.
In opposition to the authorities mentioned, Sheridan ranks w among the vowels, and supposes it to form dipthongs with the other vowels, as in well, will, &c. It appears to me to be a letter rather of an ambiguous nature, of which we have others in the language.
It has been remarked that by old authors y was often used for g; yeve for give; foryete for forget.—— Chaucer, Knight's Tale, 1884.
I have observed that some foreigners pronounce year, in the same manner nearly as they do ear; and yeast is commonly pronounced east. This pronunciation would easily lead a man into the supposition that y is merely ee short. But the pronunciation is vicious.
I observe also that Mr. Sheridan says, "ye has the sound of e long in ye; of a long in yea; of e long in year, yean; and of e short in yearn, yell, &c." This confirms my opinion, and is a proof that he does not pronounce y at all.
If y has the sound of e in year, then e has no sound, or there are in the word, two sounds of e, which no person will undertake to assert. The dispute however is easily settled. I have learnt by attending to the conversation of well bred Englishmen, that they do not pronounce y at all in year and many other words. They say ear, e, for year, ye; and the sound of e, they erroneously suppose to be that of y. In America, y has in these words, the consonant sound it has in young; and the English pronunciation must in this instance be faulty.
"Now the harmony of prose arises from the same principle with that which constitutes the harmony of verse; viz. numbers; or such a disposition of the words as throws them into just metrical feet, but very different from those which constitute any species of verse."—Essay on the Power of Numbers, &c. page 4. Introd.
"A good stile is both expressive and harmonious. The former depends on the happy choice of the words to convey our ideas; the other on the happy choice of numbers in the disposition of the words. The language of some is expressive, but unharmonious; that is, the writer's words strongly convey his sentiments, but the order in which they are placed creates a sound unpleasant to the ear. The stile of others is harmonious but not expressive; where the periods are well turned and the numbers well adapted, but the sense obscure. The former satisfies the mind, but offends the ear; the latter gratifies the ear, but disgusts the mind. A good stile entertains and pleases both," &c—— Ibm. 2d. Part, page 17.
The author proceeds to illustrate his doctrines by showing in what the harmony of prose consists. He remarks that the words should in some degree be an echo to the sense, in prose as well as verse.
He proceeds—"Every sentence may be conceived as divisible into distinct and separate clauses; every clause, where there is an apparent cessation of the voice, should always end with a generous foot; and all the preceding numbers be so intermixt, that the short ones be duly qualified by the succeeding long ones; reserving the best and most harmonious number for the cadence."
To show how much depends on the proper arrangement of words, he quotes the following instance—"A divine, speaking of the Trinity, hath this expression—It is a mystery which we firmly believe the truth of, and humbly adore the depth of." Here the language is expressive, but not harmonious; not merely because the clauses end with the particle of, but because they abound with feeble numbers, Pyrrhics and Trochees. Let us change the disposition of the feet—"It is a mystery, the truth of which we firmly believe, and the depths of which we humbly adore." The difference in the melody is very perceiveable. The force and music of the last disposition is increased by the Iambics and Anapæsts.
The most forceable feet, and those best adapted to sublime and serious subjects, are those which contain the most long syllables, or end in a long syllable; as the Iambic, the Spondee, the Anapæst. The weak feet are those which have the most short syllables or end in a short syllable; as the Pyrrhic, the Trochee, the Tribrach.
The want of proper measures, or a mixture of weak and strong syllables, is very remarkable in a passage of the Declaration of Independence. "We must therefore acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, enemies in war, ĭn pēace, friēnds." The three last syllables form, if any thing, a Bacchic; the first syllable, short, and the two others, long. But in a just pronunciation, the foot is necessarily broken by a pause after peace. This interruption, and the two long syllables, render the close of the sentence extremely heavy. The period is concise and expressive, as it stands; but the arrangement might be much more harmonious—"Oŭr ēnĕmĭes ĭn wār; ĭn pēace, oŭr friēnds." Here the measure and melody are perfect; the period closing with three Iambics, preceded by a Pyrrhic.
In a Scotch Ballad, called Edom o Gordon, we find the word dreips for drops.
"—And clear, clear was hir zellow hair
Whereon the reid bluid dreips."
But it was often spelt drap, agreeable to the pronunciation. See Edward. Rel. An. Poet. 53.
The dialect in America is peculiar to the descendants of the Scotch Irish.
Mought is the past time or participle of an old Saxon verb mowe or mowen, to be able. It answered to the posse of the Romans, and the pouvoir of the French. This verb occurs frequently in Chaucer.
"But that science is so fer us beforne,
We mowen not, altho we had it sworne,
It overtake, it slit away so fast,
It wol us maken beggers at the last."
Cant. Tales, l. 16, 148, Bell's edit.
"To mowen such a knight done live or die."——Troil. and Cres. 2. 1594. That is, to be able to make such a knight live or die.
"And mought I hope to winne thy love,
Ne more his tonge could saye."
Sir Cauline, an old Ballad, l. 163.
"The thought they herd a woman wepe,
But her they mought not se."
Adam Bell, &c. part 3. l. 2. in Rel. of An. Poet.
"So mought thou now in these refined lays
Delight the dainty ears of higher powers.
And so mought they in their deep scanning skill,
Allow and grace our Collen's flowing quill."
Spenser, Hobbynall.
There seem to have been among our Saxon ancestors two verbs of nearly or exactly the same signification, may and might; and mowe and mought. There is some reason to think they were not synonimous; that may was used to express possibility, as I may go next week; and mowe to express power, as they mowen go, they are able to go. But it is not certain that such a distinction ever existed. The Germans use moegen, in the infinitive; mag, in the indic. pres. mæge, in the subj. pres. in the imperfect of the ind. mochte; and in the imp. of the subj. mæchte. The English use may and might solely in their writing; but mought is still pronounced in some parts of America.
Holpe or holp was not obsolete when the Bible was last translated, in the reign of king James; for it occurs in several places in that translation. It occurs frequently in old authors.
"Unkindly they slew him, that holp them oft at nede."
Skelton El. on Earl of Northum. l. 47.
In Virginia it is pronounced hope. "Shall I hope you, Sir."
But we must look among the New England common people for ancient English phrases; for they have been 160 years sequestered in some measure from the world, and their language has not suffered material changes from their first settlement to the present time. Hence most of the phrases, used by Shakespear, Congreve, and other writers who have described English manners and recorded the language of all classes of people, are still heard in the common discourse of the New England yeomanry.
The verb be, in the indicative, present tense, which Lowth observes is almost obsolete in England, is still used after the ancient manner, I be, we be, you be, they be. The old plural housen is still used for houses. The old verb wol for will, and pronounced wool, is not yet fallen into disuse. This was the verb principally used in Chaucer's time, and it now lives in the purest branch of the Teutonic, the German.
For many years, I had supposed the word dern in the sense of great or severe, was local in New England. Perhaps it may not now be used any where else; but it was once a common English word. Chaucer uses it in the sense of secret, earnest, &c.
"This clerk was cleped Hende Nicholas
Of derne love he could and of solas."
Mil. Tale, l. 3200.
"Ye mosten be ful derne as in this case."
Ibm. 3297.
The word is in common use in New England and pronounced darn. It has not however the sense it had formerly; it is now used as an adverb to qualify an adjective, as darn sweet; denoting a great degree of the quality.
The New England people preserve the ancient use of there and here after a word or sentence, designating the place where; as this here, that there. It is called vulgar in English; and indeed the addition of here or there is generally tautological. It is however an ancient practice; and the French retain it in the pure elegant language of their country; ce pays là, celui là, cet homme ici; where we observe this difference only between the French and English idioms, that in French, the adverb follows the noun, that country there, this man here; whereas in English, the adverb precedes the noun, that there country, this here man. This form of speech seems to have been coeval with the primitive Saxon, otherwise it would not have prevailed so generally among the common people.
It has been before remarked that the word ax for ask was used in England, and even in the royal assent to acts of parliament, down to the reign of Henry VI.
"And to her husband bad hire for to sey
If that he axed after Nicholas."——
Chau. Mil. Tale, 3412.
"This axeth haste and of an hastif thing
Men may not preche and maken tarying."
Ibm. 3545.
This word to ax is still frequent in New England.
I no not know whether our American sportsmen use the word, ferret, in the sense of driving animals from their lurking places. But the word is used in some parts of New England, and applied figuratively to many transactions in life. So in Congreve:
"Where is this apocryphal elder? I'll ferret him."——Old Bach, act 4, fc. 21.
Sometimes, but rarely, we hear the old imperative of the Saxon thafian, now pronounced thof. But it is generally pronounced as it is written, tho. It is remarked by Horne, that thof is still frequent among the common people of England.
Gin or gyn for given is still used in America; as Bishop Wilkins remarks, it is in the North of England.
Without, in the sense of unless, is as frequent as any word in the language, and even among the learned. It is commonly accounted inelegant, and writers have lately substituted unless: But I do not see the propriety of discarding without, for its meaning is exactly the same as that of unless. It is demonstrated that they are both the imperatives of old verbs. Without, is be out, be away; and unless is dismiss, or be apart. Instead of the imperative Chaucer generally uses the participle, withouten, being out.
The best writers use without in the sense of unless.
"—And if he can't be cured without I suck the poison from his wounds, I'm afraid he won't recover his senses, till I lose mine."——Cong. Love for Love, act 4. sc. 3.
"'Twere better for him, you had not been his confessor in that affair, without you could have kept his counsel closer."——Cong. Way of the World, act, 3. sc. 7.
The best speakers use the word in this manner, in common discourse, and I must think, with propriety.
Peek is also used corruptedly for peep. By a similar change of the last consonant, chirk is used for chirp, to make a cheerful noise. This word is wholly lost, except in New England. It is there used for comfortably, bravely, cheerful; as when one enquires about a sick person, it is said, he is chirk. Chirp is still used to express the singing of birds, but the chirk of New England is not understood, and therefore derided. Four hundred years ago it was a polite term.
"and kisseth hire swete, and chirketh as a sparwe
With his lippes."——
Chaucer, Somp. Tale, 7386.
In the following it is used for a disagreeable noise.
"All full of chirking was that sory place."
Knight's Tale, 2006.
"And al so ful eke of chirkings
And of many other wirkings."
House of Fame, 858.
Shet for shut is now become vulgar; yet this is the true original orthography and pronunciation. It is from the Saxon scitten, and I believe was always spelt shette or shet, till after Chaucer's time, for he was a correct writer in his age, and always spelt it in that manner.
"Voideth your man and let him be thereout,
And shet the dore."——
Chau. Yem. Tale, 16, 605.
"And his maister shette the dore anon."
Ibm. 16, 610.
And in a variety of other places. This word is almost universally pronounced shet among all classes of people, not only in New England, but in Great Britain and the southern states of America. How the spelling came to be changed, is not known; but it was certainly a corruption.
An for if is seen in most old authors. It remains among the common people, both in England and America. "An please your honor;" that is, "if your honor please." In New England, the phrases in which it occurs most frequently are, "Let him go, an he will;" "Go, an you will;" and others of a similar kind.
Because and becase were used promiscuously by our ancestors. Becase is found in some ancient writings, tho not so frequently as because. In New England, we frequently hear becase to this day. It is pronounced becaze. It is a compound of be and cause or case; both of these words with the verb be make good English; but becase is vulgar.
The vulgar pronunciation of such is sich. This is but a small deviation from the ancient elegant pronunciation, which was swich or swiche, as the word is spelt in Chaucer. Such is the force of national practice: And altho the country people in New England, sometimes drawl their words in speaking, and, like their brethren, often make false concord, yet their idiom is purely Saxon or English; and in a vast number of instances, they have adhered to the true phrases, where people, who despise their plain manners, have run into error. Thus they say, "a man is going by," and not going past, which is nonsense: They say, "I purpose to go," and not propose to go, which is not good English. They say, "a ship lies in harbor," not lays, which is a modern corruption. They say, "I have done," and never "I am done," which is nonsense. They say, "it was on Monday evening," not "of a Monday evening," which is an error. They never use the absurd phrases "expect it was;" and "the ship will sail in all next week." They never say "he is home," but always, "at home." They use the old phrase, "it is half after six o'clock," which is more correct than half past six. They say, if a person is not in health, he is sick. The modern English laugh at them, because the English say a man is ill; and confine sick to express the idea of a nausea in the stomach. The English are wrong, and the New England people use the word in its true sense, which extends to all bodily disorders, as it is used by the pure English writers. Ill is a contraction of evil; and denotes a moral disorder. Its application to bodily complaints is a modern practice, and its meaning figurative. So that whatever improprieties may have crept into their practice of speaking, they actually preserve more of the genuin idiom of the English tongue, than many of the modern fine speakers who set up for standards.
The letters ch in Roman answered nearly to the Greek ki or chi; for c had the sound of k, at least before a, o, u. Ch or kh was therefore the proper combination for the Greek letter; which had the sound of k followed by an aspirate. This combination was copied into our language; and perhaps the aspirate was once pronounced, like the Irish guttural in Cochran. But when the aspirate was lost, k became the proper representative of the sound. It is wished, that in all the derivatives from the ancient languages, where this character occurs, k might be substituted for ch; that persons unacquainted with etymology, might not mistake and give ch its English sound.
