Introduction to the study of the history of language

CHAPTER XXI.

Chapter 224,121 wordsPublic domain

LANGUAGE AND WRITING.

We have now to consider the question of the relation of writing to language; how far it has influenced it, and continues to influence it; and for what reasons it seems an inadequate representation of language. The first thing necessary for us to remember is that, though writing is the only means whereby the speech of the past has been preserved for us, yet it is equally true that, before we can consider writing at all, we have to convert it into spoken language, and to affix sounds to the symbols of language which have descended to us from the past. All such translation of symbols affixed to language in the past must necessarily be imperfect; we can only arrive approximately, for instance, at a satisfactory conjecture of the actual sounds of the English language as spoken by Shakespeare; and the data for determining such questions must always be more or less incomplete.

The written representation of language must, however, always be an interesting object of study to the philologist--partly because it has been the vehicle of the sounds of language, and partly because it is an important factor in the development of language itself.

Writing appeals, in the first place, to a much larger community than speaking. A single page of written matter may appeal to thousands more easily than the most eloquent sermon or address. Nay, writing may in this way appeal to the whole of a linguistic community, causing those of the present time to exert their influence on generations yet unborn.

Writing which consistently and regularly represents the spoken language must be more effective in perpetuating that language than writing which does not so represent it. Theoretically, we assume that written languages fall into one or other of these classes, and we classify them as languages spelt phonetically and spelt non-phonetically, or, as some prefer to express it, historically.

But we must remember that no alphabet, however perfect, can assume to be a correct picture of language. Language consists of a continuous series of sounds, never broken, but consecutive. Just as no amount of drops of water separately considered could give the picture of a river, so no amount of symbols, however minute, could give the real picture of a sentence. A sentence, nay, a single word, is a continuous whole; the symbols whereby we represent it can represent only the chief parts, and represent them as disconnected. The transitions, the links remain unindicated, and so do such important factors as quantity, accent, and tone.

Further, the alphabets in use are, even the best of them, imperfect. It is plain that, when the members of a particular linguistic community, like, _e.g._, the Germans or the Portuguese, seek to make their alphabet a consistent picture of the sounds of speech, they aim merely at representing the sounds of their own language. A scientific alphabet should aim at representing all possible sounds, and not merely those needed in an alphabet of a particular linguistic community.

Even in the case of the best-spelt languages, _i.e._ the languages in which the principle of one sound standing for one sign, and one sign for one single sound obtains, we shall find that these aim only at satisfying the ordinary practical needs of the language. They make as few distinctions as is consistent with ordinary clearness and consistency. For instance, they deem it unnecessary to denote the difference of sounds arising from the position of a letter in a syllable, a word, or an accent, provided only that a similarity of position produces habitually similar results. A certain degree of consistency is thus attained without a superfluity of symbols. In Modern High German, for instance, the _hard s_ sound in _lust_, _brust_, etc., has the same symbol to represent it as that which elsewhere represents the _soft s_ sound: but no ambiguity arises from this, because _s_, when followed by _t_, unless the group _st_ is initial, is always hard; thus the _s_ in _reist_ is pronounced as in _lust_. Similarly, final _s_ is habitually pronounced hard or unvoiced; as, _hass_, _glas_, _eis_.

In the same way, in English, it would have been superfluous, in an alphabet merely directed to satisfy practical needs, to adopt a special sign for the front nasal _n_ in _sing_; because _n_, followed by and combined with _g_, always has the same sound. Similarly, _n_, in such combinations as the Fr. _vigne_, Ital. _ogni_, has a consistent and regular pronunciation, and therefore there is no need for any special representation of it.

There are indeed languages, like Sanscrit, in which the principle of phonetic spelling is more or less carefully carried out. Generally, however, we find that the same sign of any particular alphabet has to serve for more than one sound, and it almost invariably happens that we augment the confusion by employing different signs for one and the same sound. The chief reason for these defects is because most nations, instead of creating symbols to represent the sounds in their own language, have been content to adopt an alphabet ready to hand, made to suit the requirements of the language of another nation. Thus the alphabet used by most civilised nations was that which the Phenicians elaborated from the Egyptian hieroglyphics; and the Russians adopted with modifications the Greek adaptation of this. Another reason for the inconsistency is that, as pronunciation changes, it is obvious that the denotation of symbols ought to change as well. These same causes may also produce an unnecessary superfluity of symbols. In English, for instance, the alphabet suffers alike from superfluity and defect. Several signs serve to denote the same sound, as _c_, _k_, _ch_; _c_, _s_; _oo_, _ou_; _ou_, _ow_; _a_, _ai_; _e_, _i_, _ee_, _ea_, _ie_, _ei_; _i_, _y_; _cks_, _x_; _oa_, _aw_; and many others might be cited. Again, there are many cases in which the same symbols denote different sounds, such as _th_ in _thin_ and _then_; _a_ in _hat_ and _fatal_; _i_ in _pin_ and _pine_.[208]

It is not the place here to point out in detail the advantages of a well-spelt language over a less well-spelt one.[209] Practically, however, the consideration cannot be disregarded that, if English orthography represented English pronunciation as closely as Italian does Italian, at least half the time and expense of teaching to read and to spell would be saved. This is assumed by Dr. Gladstone[210] to be twelve hundred hours in a lifetime, and as more than half a million of money per annum for England and Wales alone. A few instances, taken mainly from Pitman’s work, may serve to show how all-pervading the irregularity is.

The same symbol serves to denote different vowel sounds (1) even in words etymologically connected; as, _sane_, _sanity_; _nation_, _national_; _navy_, _navigate_; _metre_, _metrical_; _final_, _finish_; _floral_, _florid_; _student_, _study_; _punitive_, _punish_: (2) in words etymologically unconnected, as in _fare_, _have_, _save_; _were_, _mere_; _give_, _dive_; _notice_, _entice_; _active_, _arrive_; _doctrine_, _divine_; _gone_, _bone_; _dove_, _move_, _rove_, _hover_. Again, cf., _change_, _flange_; _paste_, _caste_; _bind_, _wind_; _most_, _cost_; _rather_, _bather_; _there_, _here_; _fasting_, _wasting_.

By collecting examples in this way, Mr. Pitman has arrived at the conclusion that, in English, we endeavour to express fourteen distinct sounds by using five signs in twenty-three different ways, without any real means of discriminating when one sound and when another is intended, or what sign should be used to denote a particular sound. But besides these separate vowel signs, digraphs and trigraphs to the number of twenty-two are used to express the same fourteen sounds which the five vowel signs have already attempted to represent; though they, in addition, attempt to represent two more diphthongal sounds, making sixteen distinct sounds in all. For instance, _pail_, _said_, _plaid_; _pay_, _says_; _heat_, _sweat_, _great_, _heart_; _receive_, _vein_, _height_; _key_, _prey_, _eye_; _sour_, _pour_, _would_; _town_, _sown_.[211]

Of the consonants, we may remark, in the first place, that many are silent, as in _debt_, _limb_, _indict_, _condemn_: in some cases, silent consonants have been interpolated to suggest a mistaken derivation, as in _sovereign_, _foreign_, _island_; in others, again, they have been capriciously retained to mark the derivation of a word (as in _receipt_), and yet omitted in the case of other words derived from the same source. Then, for instances of the inconsistent use of consonants, we may take the following table from Pitman; (a few examples have been added):--

_ch._--_church_, _chaise_, _ache_; _yacht_, _drachm_. _ck._--_pick_ (_k_ or _c_ superfluous). _gh._--_ghost_, _cough_, _hough_; _dough_, _night_, _inveigh_. _ng._--_singer_, _linger_, _infringer_. _ph._--_physic_, _nephew_; _phthisical_. _rh._--_rhetoric_, _myrrh_, _catarrh_. _sc._--_science_, _conscience_, _discern_, _score_. _sch._--_schism_, _schedule_, _scheme_. _th._--_thistle_, _this_, _thyme_. _wh._--_whet_, _whole_.

If, in addition to these obvious defects in alphabets, we bear in mind the fact that the accentuation commonly remains for the most part undenoted, we must admit that our alphabets present us with a very imperfect picture of spoken language. For an attempt to realise a scientifically correct alphabet, we must refer to Sweet’s ‘Handbook of Phonetics,’ and Melville Bell’s ‘Visible Speech,’ ‘Sounds and their Relations,’ A. J. Ellis, etc., not to mention the works in other languages, such as those by Techmer, Vietor, Trautmann, Sievers, etc.

We have to bear in mind that writing is to living language nothing more than what a rough sketch is to a finished picture. The sketch is, commonly speaking, sufficient to enable one familiar with the figures which are meant to be represented, to recognise them. But should several painters attempt to reproduce a finished sketch from such rough outline, they would produce a set of pictures differing very much in details. For instance, each painter, if he did not recognise certain objects in the sketch, would be tempted to substitute in their place others with which he might be familiar. Just so, those who seek to reproduce the sounds of a language from written symbols, will be tempted to substitute similar sounds with which they are familiar for the sounds of the sketch, as, for our purpose, we may call the alphabet. Even in the case of a foreign language possessing an alphabet in some respects identical with our own, like the French, it is considered necessary to prefix to the alphabet a description of the sound intended to be conveyed by the symbol; and even this cannot obviate the necessity of hearing the sound, especially when the alphabet is not based upon scientific principles. It is equally true that the same remarks are applicable to the case of a dialect belonging to the same group of languages as our own.

In any linguistic area where the same language is spoken, there exist different dialects, _i.e._ variations from the standard language possessing a quantity of divergencies from the sounds of the standard language. The common alphabet has to stand as the representative of all these dialects alike, and the same symbol has to present, for instance, the _u_ sound as uttered by a west countryman and as uttered by a Scotchman. _R_, again, is pronounced by a Londoner quite differently from the way in which it is pronounced by a Scotchman. _F_ is pronounced like _v_ in Devonshire and Cornwall; and the _h_ is in many words notoriously written but not pronounced in the greater part of England proper. Besides such obvious differences, which might be multiplied indefinitely,[212] we have to remember that the quantity, the pitch, and the accent remain undenoted by the standard alphabet in the different dialects; and we shall easily see that a large quantity of dialectic differences is taken no account of in writing. The obvious result of this want of adequate representation of the sounds of the separate dialects must be that the speakers in the separate dialects must each consider that the sound with which he is himself familiar is the one intended to be represented by the symbol which he sees.

The result of our present system of representing sounds is that we are unable to give an idea of other dialects than our own, except in cases where the discrepancy between these and our own is very strongly marked. Even in such cases merely a rough indication of the pronunciation can be given; but the delicate and manifold differences occurring between the speech of individuals of different communities and different generations must pass unmarked. It is needless to add that the present system of representation of sounds is useless as a register of the actual state of pronunciation, and of the changes which are gradually occurring. How interesting would it be to Englishmen had a scientific alphabet been employed to record the different stages of pronunciation of their language, so that the nineteenth century might know with approximate exactitude how Chaucer, Shakespeare, and Milton spoke!

But in any changes which we may see fit to make in orthography, we must beware of supposing that, in a perfect alphabet, we should possess an absolutely controlling influence over pronunciation and sound changes. No doubt if sounds were accurately registered by a scientific alphabet, the more educated classes of the community who were familiar with this alphabet and its denotation would be led to attempt to maintain their pronunciation in accordance with the standard afforded them by this. But, even assuming that such an alphabet were generally adopted, it is plain that it could only represent one particular dialect of any linguistic area, which dialect would, as a rule, be that of the best-educated classes in the community. Then, as now, dialects would remain unrepresented, or, at the best, would be registered for scientific purposes or for a limited use. Then, as now, absolutely different sounds occurring in different dialects would be denoted by the same letters. Then, as now, different sound images would be associated with different letters, which are, of course, merely connected with sounds by an association of ideas. Then, as now, the written language would be unable to record the changes that had passed upon the language of an entire community, confining itself to those that had passed over the normal or standard dialect, which, as we have seen, would be in England the dialect of the educated classes. But it must be held that language is not consciously altered to suit orthography; any such alteration would be contrary to the common development of language. The orthography may, however, be altered to suit the language; but, as it is obvious that the language must change more quickly than the orthography, it follows that the orthography must remain, at the best, an imperfect record of written sounds.

The defects of written speech which have been already indicated are not as great as those which set in when the orthography of a language has been long settled. The original spellers tried to commit the sounds of each word to writing; they broke up the word into its elements, and compounded the letters corresponding to these elements to the best of their ability. But there is no doubt that practice in reading and writing makes this process continually shorter. The consciousness that the symbol is bound up with the sound grows gradually fainter. A group of symbols represents a group of sounds; and the sounds are apprehended in groups, and not singly. The sentence, and not the word, becomes the basis of reading. Indeed, fluent reading and writing would be impossible if this were not the case. Poets, like Burns, who write in their own dialect, however much they may try to reproduce accurately the sounds of that dialect, and however well they may succeed, still are fain to content themselves with a certain conventional approximation to accurate representation; in fact they are very much influenced by the conventional orthography of the literary language. They are also constrained to attempt to produce an approximate amount of accuracy with the smallest amount of labour; and their labour is considerably lessened by their acceptance of conventional symbols. Our forefathers really tried to indicate consistently their pronunciation of their words. They tried to spell phonetically, and the result may be seen in the different spellings of the manuscripts of Langland, Chaucer, Shakespeare, etc.

The advantages of a fixed orthography are mainly that the reader connects a definite orthographic image with a definite signification. We can understand this if we take two words which are pronounced identically but differently spelt, such as _bough_, and the verb to _bow_. Were these words written identically, the written picture common to the two would associate itself with the sound common to the two words, whereas, at present, each meaning has its own distinct symbol. Each divergence in spelling, though from a phonetic point of view it may be an improvement, increases the difficulty of understanding what is written. Divergencies or want of fixity in spelling may arise from the awkwardness of writers, who may have employed several signs to denote the same sound, or a single sign for more than one; or, again, it may arise from the want of some controlling body, like an academy, whose business it is to regulate orthography. On the other hand, it may be due to the very perfection and consistency of the characteristics of the language which has to be reproduced. If, for instance, as in Sanscrit, or in Welsh, the spelling of the same word varies with its pronunciation according to its position in the sentence, a single meaning must be expressed by different symbols, and it is impossible for one definite written picture to connect itself with the first form. The more fixed the orthography, the more is the process in reading and writing facilitated.

On the whole, it is true that the natural tendency of the orthography is towards greater fixity, though it is also true that retrogressive movements sometimes occur, as when marked phonetic changes set in. There are three principal methods whereby it is commonly sought to produce a fixed and uniform orthography: (1) by the abolition of variations between several different methods of spelling; (2) by regarding etymology and taking it as a guide to orthography; and (3) by holding to traditional spelling and disregarding sound. The first of these methods is, generally speaking, in accordance with the aims of phonetic reformers; the two latter are in direct contravention of their aims. But against these efforts to produce fixity in orthography there remains always the counter tendency to bring language and its written expression into harmony; and this tendency exhibits itself partly in the effort to correct original deficiencies in spelling, and partly in a reaction against the discrepancies constantly produced in written language by sound-change. As these two tendencies are constantly operative, the history of orthography is a description of the temporary triumph of one or other of these two forces.

If we should institute a comparison between the development of writing and that of language, we shall find certain points of resemblance, and others of marked divergence. With reference to the latter; in the first place, changes in orthography are brought about more consciously, and with more purpose on the part of the writer, than changes of language on the part of the speaker. In the second place, whereas in language a whole linguistic community is exposed to a change, in the case of writing, only that portion of the community who write or print or publish are directly interested. And thus it is that the authority of single individuals is able to carry weight to a much larger extent than in language. Again, orthographical changes do not depend upon personal contact, but appeal to the eye, and therefore are capable of affecting a wider, if a less numerous, public than linguistic changes. A good instance of the effect of changed orthography is seen in the Welsh language as contrasted with the Gaelic. The Welsh has changed its old cumbrous orthography for a simpler and more phonetic system; and, in consequence, the Welsh language has become more easy to acquire, and, generally speaking, a handier instrument of literary intercourse. No reformer has arisen for Gaelic, which consequently is little read and little written in comparison with its Cymric sister.

One of the most obvious difficulties that meets the orthographical reformer at the outset is the presence in the alphabet of one or more signs to represent the same sound, a case which has been already referred to in this chapter. This superfluity of sound-signs may be an inheritance from the language whence the alphabet in use is borrowed; thus, in our alphabet, we have received _c_ and _k_ and _q_, all denoting the same sound. Or, again, it may happen that, in the language from which the alphabet was borrowed, two signs had a different value, but that the language which borrows them is unable to employ these signs to make such a distinction, which, indeed, does not exist in it. Thus, the Greek alphabet employed χ to represent the aspirated guttural; but, as we do not employ that sound at all, the symbol _ch_, as seen in _cholera_, is superfluous. Again, both symbols of the borrowed language easily pass into use in the language which borrows them, if the sound which the borrowing language means to represent lies between the two sounds represented by the symbols borrowed. Thus, for instance, in the Upper German dialect, at the time of the introduction of the Latin alphabet, there was no distinction answering to that between the Latin _g_ and _k_, _b_ and _p_, _f_ and _v_, consequently, one of these symbols was, for that particular German dialect, superfluous.

In English there is one cause of vacillation which should be noticed as of interest, viz., the attempt of certain writers to omit certain letters which seem to them superfluous, as when _honor_, _color_, etc. are written instead of _honour_, _colour_, etc. As far as this spelling expresses supposed philological accuracy, it is, of course, erroneous.

Superfluities in spelling are disposed of in much the same way as superfluities in words and forms. The simplest way is by the disuse of one of the two signs. The other way is by differentiating the signs which were originally used indifferently. This differentiation may serve to supply a want in the language; as when, in Modern German, _i_, _u_, and _j_, _v_ were gradually parted into vowel and consonant. Thirdly, it happens that one manner of spelling becomes usual in one word, and a different manner in another, the differences depending upon mere caprice. Thus we spell _precede_, but _proceed_; _proceeding_, but _procedure_; _stream_ (from A.S. _stréam_) with _ea_, but _steep_ (A.S. _stéap_) with _ee_. A.S. _bréad_ is now written _bread_, but A.S. _réad_ has become _red_; A.S. _nu_ we write _now_, but _ðu_ is at present _thou_; etc. Some of these and similar inconsistencies owe at least their preservation, if not their origin, to the desire of differentiating in the spelling such words as have the same sound but different meanings; e.g., _to_ and _too_, _steel_ and _steal_, _red_ and _read_, etc.

Etymology, or, more correctly, etymological grouping, and analogy have great influence upon spelling, as well as on the spoken language. Again and again an older phonetical spelling has been replaced by a real or fanciful etymological one. Thus, for instance, it is owing to the influence of etymological grouping when certain alternations of sound, due to flection or other change of position, are left without indication by any corresponding changes of spelling. Thus, in Anglo-Saxon, the word _dæg_ had its plural _dagas_. Final _g_ was dropped, and the vowel before it changed into the sound now represented by _ay_ in _day_. A _g_ between two vowels, however, generally became _w_, and, accordingly, _dagas_ became _dawes_, a form frequently found in Middle English. In this case, _analogy_ interfered, and a new ‘regular’ plural, formed directly from the singular _day_, replaced the older historically correct form. It is, however, possible to imagine that this had not happened in the spoken language, and that, whilst people SAID _day_, _dawes_, they had WRITTEN _day_, _dayes_. Or rather, if the declined cases in the singular had remained in use--in which cases, also, the _g_ stood between two vowels--that the _w_ written in the declined cases of the singular, and in all cases of the plural, had begun in time to be _written_ also in the nominative singular, where the _y_ was the ‘regular’ form. This supposititious case is only an instance of what has happened in many languages, _e.g._, in German. German ‘unvoices’ all final consonants; _i.e._, a _d_ or _t_, when final, is pronounced _t_, a _p_ or _b_ is pronounced _p_, etc. Before terminations of inflection, however, _d_ and _b_ remained ‘voiced,’ and we find accordingly in Middle High German such pairs as nom. _tac_, gen. _tages_. The _g_ of the declined cases has, however, supplanted the _c_ of the nominative singular, and the word is now written throughout with _g_, though no one pronounces the same sound in the nominative singular, as in, say, _tages_, or nom. plur. _tage_, etc.

Again, etymological considerations first caused and now preserve the insertion of _b_ in _debt_, _g_ in _reign_. That, in many cases, these etymological considerations arose from sheer ignorance does not alter the fact that it was their influence which, after causing the insertion of, _e.g._, the _g_ in _sovereign_, the _h_ in _rhythm_, the _l_ in _could_, the _w_ in _whole_, the _p_ in _receipt_, saved these absurdities from desirable extinction.

It must, however, be admitted that, owing to these very irregularities and inconsistencies of spelling, as far as it is to be regarded as representing the spoken language, we owe sometimes a greater uniformity and regularity in the grammar of the _written_ language than could obtain if spelling followed pronunciation more closely than it does.

Thus, for instance, in most weak verbs the past tense is expressed in writing by the addition of _ed_, though sometimes, in the spoken word, nothing but the sound of _d_ (_I roll_, _I rolled_), or even _t_ (_I express_, _I expressed_), is added. The _ed_, in these cases, may be considered to be preserved partly from habit, partly from a feeling, to some extent etymological, that such and such a meaning (or change of meaning) is indicated by such and such a spelling or letter-group.