Yet this systematic regularity is not to be so rigid that it will not yield to discretion where a change in the circumstances demands it. As now our teaching consisteth in tongues, if some other thing at a future time seems fitter for the State, it must be adopted and given its proper place. But in making changes it is well to alter by degrees, and not overturn everything all at once. Unfortunately human nature is readier to receive a number of corrupting influences than to take pains to lessen a single evil by degrees.

Thus bold have I been with you, my good and courteous fellow-countrymen, in taking up your time with a multitude of words, whose force I know not, but whose purpose hath been to show how, in my opinion, the present great variety in teaching may be reduced to some uniformity. I have given free expression to my opinions, not because I am greatly dissatisfied with what we have, but because I often wish for what we have not, as something much better, and the rather to be wished because it might be so easily attained. I might have set forth my principles in aphoristic form, leaving commentary and recommendation to experience and time, but in the first place I do not deserve so much credit that my bare word should stand for a warrant, and in the second place I was unwilling to alienate by precise brevity those whom I might win over by argument. Wherefore I have written on all the various points enough, I think, for any reader who will be content with reason,—too much, I fear, for so evident a matter, as I believe these principles cannot be substantially contradicted. For I have grounded them upon reading, and some reasonable experience, and have applied them to the circumstances of this country, without attempting to enforce any foreign or strange device. Moreover I have tried to leaven them with common-sense, in which long teaching hath left me not entirely deficient. I do not take upon me, dictator-like, to pronounce peremptorily, but in the way of counsel to say what I have learned by long teaching, by reading somewhat, and observing more; and I must pray my fellow-countrymen so to understand me, for having been urged these many years by some of my friends to publish something, and never hitherto having ventured into print, I might seem to have let the reins of modesty run loose, if at my first attempt I should seem like a Caesar to offer to make laws. Howbeit, my years beginning to decline, and certain of my observations seeming to some folks to crave utterance, I thought it worth the hazard of gaining some men’s favour. My wishes perhaps may seem sometimes to be novelties. Novelties perhaps they are, as all amendments to the thing that needeth redress must be, but at least they are not fantastic, having their seat in the clouds. I am not the only one who has ever wished for change. If my wish were impossible of fulfilment, though it seemed desirable, it would deserve to be denied, but where the thing is both profitable and possible, why should it not be brought about, if wishing may procure it? I wish convenient accommodation for learning and exercise. This does not now exist in every part of the country,—indeed it scarcely exists anywhere as yet. I would not have wished it if there had been any real difficulty in accomplishing it, and it will not come about before the wish is expressed. There is no heresy nor harm in my wishes, which are all for the good and happiness of my country.

The Standard of English Spelling.

Because I take upon me to direct those who teach children to read and write English, and because the reading must needs be such as writing leads to, therefore I will thoroughly examine the whole certainty of our English writing, as far as I am able, because it is a thing both proper to my subject and profitable to my country. For our natural tongue being as beneficial to us for our needful expression as any other is to the people who use it, and having as pretty and fair phrases in it, and being as ready to yield to any rule of art as any other, why should I not take some pains to find out the correct writing of ours, as men have done in other countries with theirs? And so much the rather because it is asserted that the writing of it is exceedingly uncertain, and can scarcely be rescued from extreme confusion without some extreme measure. I mean, therefore, to deal with it in such a way that I may wipe away the opinion that it is either uncertain and confused or incapable of direction, so that both native English people may have some secure place to rest in, and strangers who desire it may have some certain means of learning the language. For the performance of this task, and for my own better guidance, I will first examine the means by which other tongues of most sacred antiquity have been brought to artistic form and discipline for their correct writing, to the end that by following their way I may hit upon their method, and at the least by their example may devise some means corresponding to theirs, where the custom of our tongue and the nature of our speech will not admit of the same course being exactly followed. That being done, I will try all the variety of our present writing, and reduce the uncertain force of all our letters to as much certainty as any writing can attain.

I begin at the subject of correct writing, because reading, which is the first elementary study, must be directed both in precept and practice according to the way that the thing which is to be read is written or printed. And considering that the correct writing of our tongue is still in question, some, who are too far in advance, esteeming it quite unfit, some, who are too far behind, thinking it perfect enough, some, who have the soundest opinion, judging it to be on the whole well appointed, though in certain particulars requiring to be improved, is it not a very necessary labour to fix the writing, so that the reading may be sure? Now, in examining the correct method of our writing, I begin at that which the learned tongues used, to find out what was right for themselves, when they were in the same position in which ours now is. For all tongues keep one and the same rule for their main development, though each has its special features. In this way I shall be able to answer all those objections which charge our writing with either insufficiency or confusion, and also to examine, as by a sure touchstone, all the other supplements which have been devised heretofore to help our writing, by either altering the old characters, or devising some new, or increasing their number. For if the other tongues that have been so highly esteemed, when they were subject to, and charged with, these same supposed wants with which our writing is now burdened, delivered themselves by other means than either altering, or superseding, or increasing their characters, and made use of their own material, why should we seek means that are strange and not in keeping with our language when we have such a pattern to perfect our writing by so well-warranted a precedent? That the finest tongue was once quite rude is proved by the very course of nature, which proceeds from weakness to strength, from imperfection to perfection, from a low degree to a high dignity. What means, then, did those languages use, which have won the opinion of being correctly written, to come by the method that produced that opinion? There are two considerations in regard to speech concerning the way that has been followed in its refining. For if we look into the first degree of refining, before which no tongue at all had any beauty in the pen, we have to consider how the very first language proceeded from her first rudeness to her fullest perfection. Again, we have to consider how other secondary languages have improved and purified themselves by following the same method as that used by the primitive tongue.

But I desire to be warranted by them both, that is, to follow the first refiners and also the second improvers in this course, which, as far as I know, no man has yet kept in this subject, though several have written orthographies. And my opinion is, that it best beseems a scholar to proceed by art to any recovery from the claws of ignorance. Therefore, I will examine, even from the very root, how and by what degrees the very first tongue seems to have come by her perfection in writing, and what means were taken to continue that perfection, ever since the time that any tongue was perfected. Consideration, however, must always be had to the special peculiarities of any particular tongue, as these cannot be comprised under a general precept along with any other tongue, but must be treated as exceptions to the common rule. And yet even these particular features are not omitted in the general method of the first refining, and thus it is commended to us by means of translations, which come in the third degree, and refine after the first, by following the intervening process. Now, in this long passage from the first condition of extreme rudeness to the last neatness of finished skill, I will name three stages, each naturally succeeding the other, where the reader’s understanding may alight and go on foot, if it be wearied with riding. The first stage is while the sound alone bore sway in writing. The second is while consent in use removed authority from sound alone to the joint rule of reason, custom, and sound. The third, which is now in progress, is while reason and custom secure their own joint government with sound by means of art. For as sound, like a restrained but not banished Tarquinius, desiring to be restored to his first sole monarchy, and finding supporters only in the province of sound, sought to make a tumult among the writers, ever after that reason and custom were joined with him in commission. I will, therefore, first deal with the government in writing which was under sound, when everything was written according to the sound, though that stage came to an end long ago.

I should begin too far back in seeking out the ground of correct writing, if I should enquire either who devised letters first, or who wrote first,—a thing as uncertain to be known as it would be fruitless if it were known. For what certainty can there be of so old a thing, or what profit can arise from knowing one man’s name, even if one were the founder, which can scarcely be? For though he be honoured for the fruit of his invention, yet his authority would do small good, seeing that the matter in question is to be confirmed not by the credit of the inventor, who dwells we know not where, but by the user’s profit, which everyone feels. And therefore as they who devised the thing first (for it was the invention of no one man, nor of any one age), did a marvellously good turn to all their posterity, so we, as their posterity, must think well of the inventors, and must judge that pure necessity was the foundress of letters, and of all writing, as it has been the only general breeder of all things that better our life, need and want forcing men’s wits to seek for such helps. For as the tongue conveyed speech no further than to those that were within hearing, and the necessity of communication often arose between persons who were further off, a device was made to serve the eye afar off by the means of letters, as nature satisfied the ear close at hand by the use of speech. For the handing down of learning by the pen to posterity was not the first cause of finding out letters, but an excellent use perceived to be in them to serve for perpetuity a great while after they had been found by necessity. The letters being thus found out in order to serve a needful turn, took the force of expressing every distinct sound in the voice, not by themselves or any virtue in their form (for what likeness or affinity has the form of any letter in its own nature to the force or sound in a man’s voice?) but only by consent of the men who first invented them, and the happy use of them perceived by those who first received them.

Hereupon in the first writing the sound alone led the pen, and every word was written with the letters that the sound commanded, because the letters were invented to express sounds. Then for the correct manner of writing, who was sovereign and judge but sound alone? Who gave sentence of pen, ink, and paper, but sound alone? Then everyone, however unskilful, was partaker in the authority of that government by sound. And there was good reason why sound should rule alone, and all those have a share in the government of sound, who were able even to make a sound. In those days, all the arguments that cleave so firmly to the prerogative of sound, and plead so greatly for his interest, in the setting down of letters, were esteemed most highly, as being most agreeable to the time, and most serviceable to the State. But afterwards when sound upon sufficient cause was deposed from his monarchy, as being no fit person to rule the pen alone, and had others joined with him in the same commission, who were of as good countenance as he, though not meant to act without him, then their credit was not at all so absolute, though reasonably good still. This any well-advised supporters of sound may well perceive, and be well content with, if they will but mark the restriction in the authority of sound, and its causes. For as great inconveniences followed, and the writing itself proved more false than true, when the pen set down the form that the ear suggested to answer a particular sound, and as the sound itself was too imperious, without mercy or forgiveness whatever justification the contrary side had, men of good understanding, who perceived and disliked this imperiousness of sound, which was maintained with great uncertainty,—nay rather with confusion than assurance of right,—assembled themselves together to confer upon a matter of such general interest, and in the end, after resolute and ripe deliberation, presented themselves before sound, using the following arguments to modify his humour, but seeking rather to persuade than compel:

That it would please him to take their speech in good part, considering that it concerned not their private good, but the general interest of the whole province of writing: That he would call to his remembrance the reasons which moved them at the first to give him alone the authority over the pen, as one whom they then thought most fit for such a government, and indeed most fit to govern alone: That they now perceived, not any fault in him, for using like a prince what was his peculiar right, granted by their own commission, but an oversight in themselves in unadvisedly overcharging him with an estate which he could not rule alone without a sacrifice of his honour, whereof they were as tender as of their own souls: That their request therefore unto him was not to think more of his own private honour than of the good of the whole province: That they might with his good leave amend their own error, which however it concerned his person yet should not affect his credit, the fault being theirs in their first choice.

They paused a little while, before they uttered the main cause of their motion, for they noticed that sound began to change colour, and was half ready to swoon. For the fellow is passionate, tyrannous in authority but timorous.