Dissertations on the English Language, with Notes, Historical and Critical; / to Which is Added, by Way of Appendix, an Essay on a Reformed Mode of Spelling, With Dr. Franklin's Arguments on that Subject

by Noah Webster

REMARKS.

Having given this general history and the present state of the language, I proceed to some remarks that naturally result from the subject.

1. The primitive language of the English nation was the Saxon, and the words derived from that, now constitute the ground-work of modern English. Hence all the rules of inflection, and most of the rules of construction, are Saxon. The plural terminations of nouns, the variations of the pronouns, the endings which mark the comparison of adjectives, and the inflections of the verbs, are wholly of Teutonic origin. For this reason, the rules of grammatical construction and the propriety of particular phrases, can be ascertained only by the ancient Saxon, and the modern English writings. The Greek and Roman languages were constructed on different principles, which circumstance has not been sufficiently attended to, by those who have attempted to compile English Grammars. The consequence is, that false principles have been introduced and taught as the rules of the English language, by which means very eminent writers have been led into mistakes.

2. It has been remarked that the common people, descendants of the Saxons, use principally words derived from the native language of their ancestors, with few derivatives from the foreign tongues, for which they have no occasion. This fact suggests the impropriety of writing sermons, or other discourses designed for general use, in the elevated English stile. To adapt a stile to common capacities, the language should consist, as much as possible, of Saxon words, or of Latin and French derivatives which are introduced into familiar discourse. The modern taste for introducing uncommon words into writings, for rounding periods, and rising into what is falsely called the elegant and sublime stile, has had an unhappy effect in rendering language obscure or unintelligible.[26]

3. The number and perfection of the languages from which the English is collected, must account for its copiousness and the multitude of synonimous words with which it abounds.

A primitive unmixed language rarely contains two words of the same signification. On the contrary, rude nations often use one word to express several ideas, which have some resemblance or analogy to each other, in the constitution of things.

From the poverty of a language proceed repetitions of the same word, to express an idea with particular force, or in the superlative degree. Hence the Hebraisms, as they are called, of the Bible; to rejoice with joy; to fear with great fear. This mode of speaking is frequent among all nations whose languages are imperfect.

But the English, on the other hand, abounds with synonimous terms, so that a repetition of words is generally unnecessary, even when there is a necessity of repeating the idea in the same sentence.

This copiousness, while it affords great advantages to a judicious writer, may also be abused, and become the cause of a prolix verbose stile. Instances of this fault occur in almost every author; it is one of the greatest, as well as most frequent faults in writing, and yet has scarcely been censured by critics.[27]

There are indeed but few instances in which two or three words express precisely the same idea; but there are many instances of words conveying nearly the same sense, which are thrown together by careless writers without the least occasion. Take for example a passage of Mr. Addison's Cato:

"So the pure, limpid stream, when foul with stains
Of rushing torrents and descending rains,
Works itself clear and as it runs refines,
Till by degrees the floating mirror shines."

Pure and limpid are here too nearly synonimous to be applied to the same object. The same objection lies to the use of "foul with stains." Between working clear and refining, there is perhaps no difference in idea: And the arrangement in the second line is objectionable, for the consequence is placed before the cause; rushing torrents being the consequence of descending rains. Such an assemblage of synonimous words clogs and enfeebles the expression, and fatigues the mind of the reader. Writers of an inferior class are particularly fond of crowding together epithets. If they would describe a man they hate, he is a low, vile, mean, despicable, contemptible fellow. If they would describe a man of an amiable character, he is the most kind, humane, loving, tender, affectionate being imaginable. Epithets, so liberally bestowed, confuse our ideas and leave the mind without any distinct knowlege of the character.[E]

To a copiousness of language, on the other hand, may be ascribed the decline of action in speaking, and the want of animation. When nations have but few words to express their ideas, they have recourse to figures, to significant tones, looks and gestures, to supply the defect. Hence the figurative language of the Orientals of antiquity; hence the imagery of the Caledonian Bard;[28] the bold metaphorical language of the American natives, and the expressive tones and gesticulations that attend their speaking.

To this cause also must we ascribe the music of the Greek language, and the action which accompanied the rehearsals on the stage. What was the effect of necessity at first, became afterwards a matter of art. This was the origin of the pantomime. Modern operas are also an imitation of the ancient musical rehearsals of the theater.[29]

But as languages become rich and furnish words for communicating every idea, action must naturally cease. Men will not give themselves the pain of exerting their limbs and body to make themselves understood, when a bare opening of their lips will answer the purpose. This may be assigned as one principal cause of the decline of eloquence in modern ages, particularly among the English.

To the same cause, in part, may we ascribe the difference in the French and English manner of speaking. It is a common observation, that the French use more action and are more animated in conversation, than the English. The cause usually assigned, is, the natural vivacity of the French nation; which appears to me not satisfactory; for the Germans, who resemble the French, in some degree, in their manner of speaking, are nevertheless a more grave people than the English.

I suspect that the difference may in part be thus accounted for. The French, tho by no means a barren language, wants words to express many ideas, for which the English is provided. For example, the English has two forms for the future tense of verbs; shall and will; each of which has a distinct meaning. Shall expresses event in the first person, and promise, command or threatning in the second and third. Will, in the first person, promises; in the second and third, foretells. The French has no such distinction. The phrase je lui payerai, the only form of the future, cannot convey such distinct meanings, as promise and event, unless accompanied with some expressive tone or gesture. A Frenchman therefore, to express the force of the English, I will pay, must supply the want of a distinct word by action, or have recourse to a circumlocution. The same remark holds with respect to would and should, which, in a variety of combinations, retain distinct significations.

The French has properly but one word, plume, for the three English words, feather, en and quill. Its verbs have not such a variety of combinations to express the precise time of an action as the English. J'ecris is the only phrase for the English, I write and I am writing, which have distinct uses; and I do not know whether there is any phrase used in French which will exactly correspond with the English phrases answering to the inceptive verb of the Romans, I am going to write, or, am about writing.[30]

This solution of a difficulty, which has occurred to many people, in comparing the manners of the English and French, may not be the true one; but it appears rational. Other causes also have a material influence upon eloquence, particularly the form of government and the state of society. In these respects England and France may not be so favorable to the cultivation of oratory, as were the republics of Greece and Rome. But if a free government is the best soil for the growth of eloquence, why should it flourish in France rather than in England, which is said to be the fact with respect to pulpit eloquence? The genius of the nation may have its effect; but it is presumed, the state of the language may be considered as an auxiliary cause, if not a principal.

From the foregoing history of the language, we learn the causes of its incorrect orthography. The Saxon characters, some of which were Roman, both in shape and power, while others were peculiar to the language, continued in use till the fourteenth century. These were afterwards laid aside for the Old English characters, as they are usually called; which were introduced with the art of printing from Germany,[31] and continued in use, till within a century. But both the Saxon and German letters were much inferior to the Roman in the simplicity and elegance of their form; for which reason most of the European nations have rejected their primitive characters and adopted the Roman.[32]

In changing the characters of an alphabet, as well as in expressing the sounds of one language by letters of an other, some difficulty will often arise from the want of a perfect correspondence between the true sounds of letters in both. Altho there is, and must be, a great uniformity in the articulate sounds of all men, yet there are also differences peculiar to each nation, which others have not proper characters to express.

Thus the Romans, when they would express the sound of the Greek θ and of χ, for want of suitable characters, wrote th and ch. We conclude from this circumstance, that the Greek sound of the former was that of t followed by an aspirate, and the latter, that of k with an aspirate. Yet it is very probable that the sounds were guttural in Greek, and not exactly represented by the Latin combinations th and ch.

Thus two Saxon characters are represented in modern English, by the Latin combination th, as in think, thou. These Saxon characters were single letters and had distinct powers. We preserve the distinction of sounds to this day, but are subject to the inconvenience of having no mark by which the eye can discern that distinction.

On the other hand, sh was usually written by the Saxons sc, as sceaft, shaft; sceam, shame; sceal, shall. What was the pronunciation of sc cannot be determined; but it is evident that each letter had a distinct sound. It is most probable that before a, o, and u, sc were pronounced sk, or c might have had the force of ch in choose. It is very clear that c had this sound before e and i; for the Saxon words in which ch now precede e or i, were formerly spelt with c only; as child from the Saxon cild; chill from cele; chink from cinnon, to gape; chick from cicen. If therefore c before e and i had the force of ch, sceaft must have been pronounced scheaft, which would easily be softened down and contracted into shaft.

But whatever was the sound of sc in the Saxon, the sound derived from it is now simple, and has no single character to represent it in our language; for the proper sounds of s and h combined, do not form the sound which we invariably annex to sh. By not retaining the primitive Saxon c after s, we have probably lost the pronunciation and introduced an irregularity.

It is not certain however that a change of the alphabet was prior to the change of pronunciation; for the latter might have produced the former. But the effect is certain; we have a simple sound without a proper character, which is always an imperfection.[33]

We have therefore in English the two sounds of th, the aspirate in think, and the vocal in this, both of which are simple consonant sounds, peculiar to the language, and derived from two single characters. Each ought still to be represented by a distinct single letter. Sh, on the other hand, express a simple sound, derived from two separate Saxon consonants, which must have been originally pronounced as two letters. These irregularities must have been partly owing to a change of alphabet.[34]

Other irregularities have been occasioned by an injudicious application of the letters of one alphabet to the sounds of another language.

The Roman c some writers suppose was hard, like k, before all the vowels and diphthongs. It certainly was so before all except e and i; where, there is reason to suppose, it had the sound of ch or ts. It is very evident that it had not the sound of s, which we now annex to it in civil, cellar. When the Roman alphabet, therefore, took place of the primitive English characters, the Greek k should have been always written before a, o, u, as in cat, cord, cup; and s before e and i. Or c should have been called ke, limited to one sound, and always used instead of k. If our ancestors had retained the Roman pronunciation of c before e and i, they would probably have spelt cera, civilis, chera, chivilis,[35] ch having its English sound of tsh, as in charm. But if they pronounced these words as we do, they should have substituted s, sera, sivilis. In short, they should have limited every character to one sound; in which case, one of the three letters, c, k, s, would have been entirely omitted as useless. This would have delivered us from a large class of difficulties.

Whether the ph and ch, in Greek derivatives, were originally introduced into English, because our ancestors preserved the aspirate; or whether the h was retained merely to show the etymology of words, it is not easy to decide. The probability is, that these letters were never aspirated in English, but that ph has ever been pronounced f, and ch generally k; as in Philip, chorus. It is probable however that the Romans, from whom the English borrowed their characters, preserved the aspirate; for they very scrupulously retained the h after p and c; and they attempted to copy exactly the Greek pronunciation.[36] They borrowed all words in ph, ch and th from the Greeks. We have preserved the characters, but have mostly lost the aspirate; ph has invariably the sound of f; ch, in Greek derivatives, generally that of k; and th has become the representative of two simple consonants. With this change of pronunciation, the orthography should have changed; philosophy should now be written filosofy; and chorus, korus; th might become a single character and be called Eth.[F]

But it was the fate of our language to be shaken by violent revolutions, and abandoned to accident or the caprice of unskillful heads. The operation of imperceptible causes, common to all languages, in all ages, has also been gradually changing the spelling and pronunciation.

In Chaucer's time, the infinitive mode and plural number of verbs, in the present tense, ended often in en; as loven, for to love or they love. But loveth was sometimes used in the plural, and n began to be omitted in the infinitive. The French termination esse, as in Goddesse, richesse, was used, and the final e was often pronounced. The plural number of nouns usually ended in es, as houndes; and in the same manner terminated the genitive case. Nouns now ending in y, ended then in ie, as storie; y was still prefixed to participles, as ybent; and y was often used where we now write g, as yeve for give.

From that period the orthography was still varying, at least in some particulars, till the beginning of the present century. The group of eminent writers who were cotemporary with Swift, gave great stability to the spelling; yet some good authorities differ from them in several points. Johnson, who has been usually followed by succeeding compilers of dictionaries, preserves the u in honour, favour, and similar words; as also the final k in publick, &c. Ash, followed by many writers, very properly restores these words to the Roman spelling, by omitting the u and k. Excepting these particulars, the orthography of our language is nearly fixed.

The pronunciation has been neglected till a few years ago; when Sheridan and Kenrick, with several compilers of less note, attempted to give us a standard. Unluckily they have all made the attempt on false principles; and will, if followed, multiply the anomalies, which already deform the language and embarrass the learner.[37]

The language, is composed of a variety of materials, and it requires some labor to adjust the parts and reduce them to order.

To accomplish this purpose, we must search for such principles of analogy as still exist in its construction, and make them the pillars of a regular system. Where such principles cannot be found, let us examin the opinions of the learned, and the practice of the nations which speak the pure English, that we may determine by the weight of authority, the common law of language, those questions which do not come within any established rules.