French spelling may, possibly, be rather laudable than the contrary. It preserves the old forms, even though the modern language has rejected them. Thus, though it fails to represent the language as it is, it succeeds to admiration in telling us what it has been; and this in the eyes of an etymologist passes for a merit. Upon this, however, it is enough to say that the etymological objection against phonetic spelling is of more value in France than in England. It is certain also that though phonetic spelling is perhaps less required in France than in England, it would. if applied, disguise the language more;—as far, of course, as the eye, accustomed to the usual orthography, is concerned. This is because, in France, there are two languages,— —one for the ear, the other for the eye. But as the two are simply the same form of speech in different stages, there is (great as the contrast between them may be,) a principle, or the shadow of a principle, to give regularity to the system of their difference. The written French is Old French, even as AngloSaxon is Old English. In England, however, we have no such consolation, defence, or semblance of a system. In France, if twenty different words are found to differ from each other according as they are spoken or written, or as they are read or heard, there is a class to which each may be referred, and for each of such classes there is a rule. In England there is no rule at all. In this lies the great difference between the two languages in the valuation of their demerits. Yet the English and the French are among the leading languages of the world; second, to say the least of them, to none. But they are, facile primi, the first two in bad spelling. The French has been the least disturbed. It has also the advantage of its alphabet and its language belonging to the same family,-the Latin. But this is the main reason for its defects. It has kept up that kind of continuity with the mother-tongue which made the retention of old forms of spelling, long after the language itself had ignored them, so much of a habit as to end in its being a necessity. This, then, shows what happens when changes of language are not accompanied by corresponding changes in the representation of it; and, as this is one of the main causes of bad systems of spelling, the French language has been chosen as an illustration. At present this is the sole reason for our reference to it, though, when we come to details, it will be again referred to.

SECTION VIII.

THE ETYMOLOGICAL PRINCIPLE.

Much more will be said about this hereafter, because, (as has already been mentioned,) it is one of the great practical points in the phonetic question; not so much on account of its own merits as because it enlists in its defence at least three-fourths of the scholarship of the kingdom. It is here merely foreshadowed in its

generalities, and that because this is its proper place. It is closely connected with what has just preceded it, because the extent to which speech changes rapidly, while the representation of it changes slowly, was well-pre-eminently well-illustrated in the French language. The old forms which are still preserved with an appearance of life and reality in the present spelling-dead as they are-are preserved on etymological or historic grounds.

In the present section, however, the principle is dealt with in its more general form; for it may exist independently of any change in language whatsoever. It may exist in the most original orthography in the world. It may present itself in a language hitherto unknown; or, when known, absolutely isolated. If so, the accommodation of the spelling to obsolete forms is out of the question. So is it, also, in respect to words derived from other languages; for, in the supposed instance, there is no language with which it can be compared. To illustrate this, and at the same time to show that the case is not an imaginary one, let us suppose that the languages of (say) Tierra del Fuego and of the Andaman Islands are reduced to an alphabet, into which the Scriptures, or some part of them, have be translated. A word which begins with the sound of s will have an s as its first letter. It will, in no case, begin with a c. Why? The ordinary system of representing a single sound by a single letter will take its course, inasmuch as there is nothing to contravene it. In English, however, sity might be (as it is) spelt city, and we know the reason why. It is derived, indirectly, from the Latin civitas. But with the languages here mentioned there is no such thing as a derivation of this kind. Every true native word is spelt as it is sounded.

Nevertheless, there may be, even in languages of this kind, ample room for the introduction of the etymological principle; indeed, it may have existed in the very first language ever reduced to an alphabet.

This, of course, leads to a distinction. Connections in the way of etymology fall under two heads.

1. There are derivations of which the several elements are contained in different languages. Such is the connection between city and civitas.

2. There are others in which they are contained within the same language. Such is the connection between wife and wives.

The former is impossible in languages either actually isolated, or, if derived, of unknown origin.

The latter may exist in the most isolated language existing.

Of each of those kinds we have ample illustrations in our own language. Of the first we find any amount of instances under the simple letter c. Why is this letter used when s would do as well? Take the word already used as a specimen. Civis is the Latin for a citizen, civitas for a city. No matter how the c was originally sounded. It was, no doubt, at some time or other, pronounced as

k. But this time went by, no one exactly knows when. After the change into s, it passed into the French language. From the French the English took it, but they took it with the French sound or power. And as they found it written, so they themselves wrote it. How or why it was changed is a question which, at present, is unimportant. The simple fact of its changes, and the adoption of the spelling which it gave rise to, are all that is at present under notice. It explains what is meant by the etymological principle as applied to words not belonging to the language in which the etymological spelling is found.

We may follow the principle further. The number of words wherein c, followed by e, i, or y, is sounded as s, may be so great, that the practice of thus sounding it may become universal. Hence it is extended to words where it is followed by a, o, or u. This ended in k being practically excluded from the Latin language. Hence, again, as our alphabet was of Latin origin, and ask was never formally admitted as a Latin letter, we have come to spell the thoroughly English words can and could with a c, though in German and Scandinavian (or Norse) they begin with k. But ken (know) is the same word as can, in a different tense-this and nothing more. Ken, however, if spelt with e, would run the risk of being sounded as sen; and this it is which has brought in the irrepressible k, the result being that ken is the English spelling of one tense of the verb can, and can the English spelling of another tense of the verb ken; for can, though it now means ability, originally meant power or ability obtained by knowledge. Ken=I know = can= I have known, that is, I know, or am able, at the present time.

The words ken and can, then, show two things; and for this reason they have been brought forward. The etymological principle brought in the c instead of k, and can was spelt as we have just spelt it. But ken could not have been so spelt, and k was resorted to. Nothing proves better the imperfection and the inconsistency of this so-called principle. It is resorted to in the case of city and civitas to show the connection between the two words; in can and ken it conceals it.

An additional illustration of this principle is seen in cat and kitten.

3. The etymological principle as it is suggested by forms found within the limits of one and the same language, of which the words wife and wives have been given as an example, is most conspicuous in two large classes of words, alike in form, though different in respect to their places in grammar. These are the genitive (or the possessive) cases and the plural numbers of substantives, both of which end, so far as the eye is concerned, in s; the possessive cases in 's (or s with an apostrophe), the plurals in s pure and simple, father, of a father, the father's son, the fathers of the families. For the genitive plural the sign is s', that is, it is the genitive (or

possessive) singular, with the place of the apostrophe transposed, e.g. the ship's sail, the ships' sails, according as one or more than one is spoken of. All this has found its way into the ordinary grammars, and is known to even the readers of Lindley Murray. The history, however, of the apostrophe, and the double sound of the finals, has not, until lately, had due attention bestowed upon it; neither is it so prominently exhibited in even the better class of teaching books as it ought to be.

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It is simple enough. The possessive case in Anglo-Saxon ended. in the syllable “es," the plural in the syllable as"-as, wulf, wulf-es, wulf-as; brid, bridd-es, bridd-as=wulf, wulf's, wulfs; bird, bird's, birds; where there is only the addition of a letter, and no extra syllable at all. As for the old genitive (possessive) plural it was wulf-a and bridd-a, so that the English form in s' is merely an extension of the 's of the singular.

Now as long as the s was preceded by a vowel and belonged to a different syllable from that of the main body of the word, the speaker was free to pronounce it in a uniform manner. It might always be sounded as the s in sin or the ss in ass. As soon, however, as the vowel was dropped and the two consonants came into contact, the action and reaction between them created a second sound. When the consonant which preceded it was p, f, t, th (as pronounced in thin,) or k, the original sound was retained, and words like taps, chaffs, gnats, laths, and backs were spelt as they were sounded. When, however, the preceding consonant was b, v, th (as in thine,) or g, the sound was that of z; and the spelling by which it was represented would give, as the plurals of words like stab, slave, lad, lathe, and nag, stabz, slāvz, ladz, lāthz, and nagz: the change being the necessary result of the contact of two consonants of different degrees of what is called hardness and softness, a change which is by no means a matter of choice on the part of the speaker. The two consonants must be in the same class, one of them being accommodated to the other. In the words before us, the latter is accommodated to the former, and stag gives stagz. The converse, however, might have been the case, and the former have been accommodated to the latter: in which case the plural of stag would have been staks. Z, however, seems to have been a favored sound. The plurals and genitives of words ending in vowels and liquids (where the pronunciation is optional) are all, to the ear, formed by the addition of z: for, whatever may be the spelling, hamz, henz, hillz, barz, blowz, fliez, etc., are the sounds we utter in pronunciation. This is the etymological principle as applicable, or applied, to words within the pale of the same language. The English forms in -s well illustrate it, for they fall into two classes, the genitive (or possessive) cases originating in -es, and the plurals originating in

-as.

The past tenses and participles, according as they end in tor d, belong to the same system; and along with these a few other words, which, as they form smaller classes, are of less importance.

SECTION IX.

ORIGINAL INSUFFICIENCY OF LETTERS-ORTHOGRAPHIC

EXPEDIENTS.

The insufficiency of letters, or the want of proportion between the number of simple single sounds for which signs are required, and the actual number of such as are found in alphabets, is one of the commonest causes of bad, or indifferent, spelling. It is the fault, or misfortune, of most languages; perhaps of all: for, though in many alphabets of comparatively recent origin the evil is reduced to a minimum, it can scarcely be said to be absolutely abolished: indeed, when such is the case, and when to a sufficient system of letters the merits of uniformity in their application is superadded, we have, as far as the mere analysis and representation go, a full and perfect phonetic alphabet. Even then, however, the signs or letters may be faulty. They may, for instance, be too clumsy to be written with ease, too slightly distinguished from one another to be easily read, and thirdly, so unlike each other in the general character of their structure as to present to the eye of the reader a strange and inharmonious whole when printed or written in pages. Saving however, this, and a few other minor objections, it is clear that, when we have got an alphabet which is, at one and the same time, complete in the number of its letters, and uniform in the application of them, we have nearly all that is wanted. As this, however, has never yet been found in any language wherein the orthography has been left wholly to itself, it follows that merits of the kind under notice are, pre-eminently, the characteristics of the more modern alphabets; indeed, it is only in those that have been specially, purposely, and, at the same time skilfully reformed, that they are found at all. We have the same result, of course, when, for some language hitherto unwritten, a competent constructor has succeeded in reducing it to writing. This, however, is the making, rather than the growth or development, of an alphabet.

As a fair proportion between the sounds and the signs by which they are expressed, is the prerogative of the more recent alphabets, so is the contrary the great demerit of the older ones: though the rule is by no means universal. There are old alphabets with an adequate number of sounds, and there are new ones where the want of them is miserably and mischievously great. Upon the whole, however, the difference is real. Moreover it is natural. In respect to the first alphabet,—a wonder of an invention,-it is a great thing that it existed at all. We expect that it will be incomplete. We shall soon see that it was so. Unfortunately, however, we shall also see that the deficiencies of the infancy of orthography were most insufficiently rectified as alphabets grew older; and that, when the more important alphabets of the world had attained their majority they were in a very unhealthy condition.