The remarks which I venture to offer in these pages on the corrupt state
of the present spelling of English, and on the advantages and
disadvantages connected with a reform of English orthography, were written
in fulfillment of a promise of very long standing. Ever since the
publication of the Second Volume of my “Lectures on the Science of
Language,” in 1863, where I had expressed my sincere admiration for the
courage and perseverance with which Mr. Isaac Pitman and some of his
friends (particularly Mr. A. J. Ellis, for six years his most active
associate) had fought the battle of a reform in English spelling, Mr.
Pitman had been requesting me to state more explicitly than I had done in
my “Lectures” my general approval of his life-long endeavors. He wished
more particularly that I should explain why I, though by profession an
etymologist, was not frightened by the specter of phonetic spelling, while
such high authorities as Archbishop Trench and Dean Alford had declared
that phonetic spelling would necessarily destroy the historical and
etymological character of the English language.
If I ask myself why I put off the fulfillment of my promise from year to
year, the principal reason I find is, that really I had nothing more to
say than what, though in few words, I had said before. Every thing that
can be said on this subject has been said, and well said, not only by Mr.
Pitman, but by a host of writers and lecturers, among whom I might mention
Mr. Alexander J. Ellis, Dr. Latham, Professors Haldeman, Whitney, and
Hadley, Mr. Withers, Mr. E. Jones, Dr. J. H. Gladstone, and many others.
The whole matter is no longer a matter for argument; and the older I grow,
the more I feel convinced that nothing vexes people so much, and hardens
them in their unbelief and in their dogged resistance to reforms, as
undeniable facts and unanswerable arguments. Reforms are carried by Time,
and what generally prevails in the end, are not logical deductions, but
some haphazard and frequently irrational motives. I do not say, therefore,
with Dean Swift, that “there is a degree of corruption wherein some
nations, as bad as the world is, will proceed to an amendment; till which
time particular men should be quiet.” On the contrary, I feel convinced
that practical reformers, like Mr. Pitman, should never slumber nor sleep.
They should keep their grievances before the public in season and out of
season. They should have their lamps burning, to be ready whenever the
right time comes. They should repeat the same thing over and over again,
undismayed by indifference, ridicule, contempt, and all the other weapons
which the lazy world knows so well how to employ against those who venture
to disturb its peace.
I myself, however, am not a practical reformer; least of all in a matter
which concerns Englishmen only—namely, the spelling of the English
language. I should much rather, therefore, have left the fight to others,
content with being merely a looker-on. But when I was on the point of
leaving England my conscience smote me. Though I had not actually given a
pledge, I remembered how, again and again, I had said to Mr. Pitman that I
would much rather keep than make a promise; and though overwhelmed with
other work at the time, I felt that before my departure I ought, if
possible, to satisfy Mr. Pitman’s demands. The article was written; and
though my own plans have since been changed, and I remain at Oxford, it
may as well be published in discharge of a debt which has been for some
time heavy on my conscience.
What I wish most strongly to impress on my readers is that I do not write
as an advocate. I am not an agitator for phonetic reform in England. My
interest in the matter is, and always has been, purely theoretical and
scientific. Spelling and the reform of spelling are problems which concern
every student of the science of language. It does not matter whether the
language be English, German, or Dutch. In every written language the
problem of reforming its antiquated spelling must sooner or later arise;
and we must form some clear notion whether any thing can be done to remove
or alleviate a complaint inherent in the very life of language. If my
friends tell me that the idea of a reform of spelling is entirely
Quixotic, that it is a mere waste of time to try to influence a whole
nation to surrender its historical orthography and to write phonetically,
I bow to their superior wisdom as men of the world. But as I am not a man
of the world, but rather an observer of the world, my interest in the
subject, my convictions as to what is right and wrong, remain just the
same. It is the duty of scholars and philosophers not to shrink from
holding and expressing what men of the world call Quixotic opinions; for,
if I read the history of the world rightly, the victory of reason over
unreason, and the whole progress of our race, have generally been achieved
by such fools as ourselves “rushing in where angels fear to tread,” till,
after a time, the track becomes beaten, and even angels are no longer
afraid. I hold, and have confessed, much more Quixotic theories on
language than this belief—that what has been done before by Spaniards and
Dutchmen—what is at this very moment being done by Germans, namely, to
reform their corrupt spelling—may be achieved even by Englishmen and
Americans.
I have expressed my belief that the time will come when not only the
various alphabets and systems of spelling, but many of the languages
themselves which are now spoken in Europe, to say nothing of the rest of
the world, will have to be improved away from the face of the earth and
abolished. Knowing that nothing rouses the ire of a Welshman or a Gael so
much as to assert the expediency, nay, necessity, of suppressing the
teaching of their languages at school, it seems madness to hint that it
would be a blessing to every child born in Holland, in Portugal, or in
Denmark—nay, in Sweden and even in Russia—if, instead of learning a
language which is for life a barrier between them and the rest of mankind,
they were at once to learn one of the great historical languages which
confer intellectual and social fellowship with the whole world. If, as a
first step in the right direction, four languages only, namely, English,
French, German, Italian (or possibly Spanish) were taught at school, the
saving of time—and what is more precious than time?—would be infinitely
greater than what has been effected by railways and telegraphs. But I know
that no name in any of the doomed languages would be too strong to
stigmatize such folly. We should be told that a Japanese only could
conceive such an idea; that for a people deliberately to give up its
language was a thing never heard of before; that a nation would cease to
be a nation if it changed its language; that it would, in fact, commit
“the happy despatch,” _à la Japonaise_. All this may be true, but I hold
that language is meant to be an instrument of communication, and that in
the struggle for life, the most efficient instrument of communication must
certainly carry the day, as long as natural selection, or, as we formerly
called it, reason, rules the world.
The following figures may be of use in forming an opinion as to the fates
of the great languages of Europe:(68)—
Portuguese is spoken in
Portugal, by 3,980,000
Brazil, by 10,000,000
Total: 13,980,000
Italian, by 27,524,238
French, in France, Belgium, Switzerland, etc., by 40,188,000
Spanish, in
Spain, by 16,301,000
South America, by 27,408,082
Total: 43,709,082
Russian, by 51,370,000
German, by 55,789,000
English, in
Europe, by 31,000,000
America, by 45,000,000
Australia, etc., by 2,000,000
the Colonies, by 1,050,000
Total: 79,050,000