Read American Language Supplement 2 Online
Authors: H.L. Mencken
American Language Supplement 2 (58 page)
393. [American spelling is plainly better than English spelling, and in the long run it seems sure to prevail.] The first part of this is true enough in general, but it is easy to think of a few exceptions in particular. One is presented by
connexion
, which the English authorities still prefer to
connection
, though they usually add the latter as an alternative.
1
The word was borrowed from the French in the Fourteenth Century, and in the original it was spelled with
x
, not
ct
. But the NED shows that
connection
had appeared in good usage by 1680, and that not a few eminent writers of the century following preferred it,
e.g.
, Laurence Sterne and Lord Chesterfield. Its prevalence in the United States is due mainly to Webster, whose enthusiasm for analogy urged him to bring
connexion
into harmony with
affection, collection, direction
, etc. He also favored, and for the same reason,
reflection
, but when it came to
complexion
and
inflexion
he was content to endure the
x
. Of
reflection
the NED says: “The spelling with
x
is the earliest and is still common in scientific use, perhaps through its connexion with
reflex;
in the general senses the influence of the verb made the form with
ct
the prevailing one.” In England the Wesleyan (or Methodist)
connexion
means what we would call the Methodist
denomination
. The word also appears in a familiar English law phrase, seldom encountered in the United States, to wit,
crim. con.
, meaning
criminal connexion
, meaning adultery. The NED shows that the same abbreviation sometimes represents
criminal conversation
, of exactly the same meaning; in this sense, in fact,
conversation
seems to be the older term. Not much is heard of
crim. con
. in the American courts. Our judges and lawyers, when it comes to infractions (never
infraxions!
) of Exodus XX, 14, prefer euphemisms based on
intimate
, not
criminal
.
Another English spelling that has something to recommend it is
whisky
for
whiskey
. Webster preferred
whisky
and the dictionaries bearing his name still do, but in this case his choice failed to prevail, and
whiskey
remains the common form in the United States. Rather curiously, the English reserve
whisky
for the Scotch variety;
Irish or any other kind is
whiskey
. This differentiation is described by the NED as “modern trade usage.”
1
There is also something to be said for the English distinction between
kerb
and
curb
, both of which come from a French verb,
courber
, meaning to bend. The English use
curb
the noun in the sense of a device to restrain a fractious horse, and as a verb in the sense of to hamper or restrain, but they prefer
kerb
for the border of a sidewalk. Unhappily, they also use
curb
, as we do, for the framework at the top of a well – and also for the rim of a brewer’s kettle. Thus, though they call their
curb-brokers kerbstone-brokers
, if these
kerbstone-brokers
adjourned to a brewery they would become
curb-brokers
. The signs plentifully posted in New York reading “
Curb
Your Dog” are somewhat confusing to an English visitor. He can’t make out whether they mean “Take him to the
kerb
when he shows certain signs” or “Prevent him yielding to his impulse altogether.” I must confess that I am in the same doubt myself. The Authors & Printers Dictionary, the accepted English authority, ordains
curb
“for verb, and the
curb
of bridle,” but calls
kerb
“more usual than
curb
” in
kerbstone
. Also, it warns printers not to spell
kerb
with an
i
instead of an
e
– an error impossible in the United States, even to a printer.
The English, in late years, have adopted a great many American spellings,
e.g., jail
for
gaol,
2
cider
for
cyder
, and
asphalt
for
asphalte
. They have even begun to succumb to
alright
, though I should add at once that it is often denounced by purists. The case against it was thus stated by a correspondent of a London weekly in 1936:
It cannot be defended on the analogy of
almost, already, albeit
, etc. In these words the fusion of two ideas is complete, whereas
all
and
right
do not lend themselves to this welding process: the two ideas coöperate better than they unite. Even
already
does not express
all ready
, nor does
almost
mean the same as
all most
. In short,
alright
is
all wrong
.
3
Two years later a controversy over the term raged in the London
Observer
, and one reader undertook to dispose of it as follows:
I hope that your correspondents may succeed in giving this unhappy word its quietus, for it is as ugly as it is inaccurate. How such a stupidity came to be so widely distributed I cannot imagine, for it is by no means restricted, as one
of your contributors suggests, to illiterate servant girls. I would excuse them, but I find that it creeps into the documents of many so-called well educated persons. Here are some lines on the subject, which I clipped from a paper several years ago, and which may help to dispel the confusion:
Already, Almighty, Also
,
Albeit, Almost and Although
,
Altogether, Always and Alone
,
But Alright is wrong, be it known
.
1
But this doggerel only brought a defense of
alright
from a Cambridge man signing himself Linguist, thus:
We recognize
almost
and
already
as compound words which are different in meaning from
all most
and
all ready
. That enables us in writing to distinguish between such pairs of sentences as “That is
all most
interesting” and “That is
almost
interesting,” “They are
all ready
there” and “They are
already
there.” Obviously, if
alright
represents a compound word which actually exists it has a certain justification. But is there such a compound? I believe there is.
The key to the problem of whether two words have fused in one is the accent with which they are spoken. When two words fuse they are pronounced with a different accent from the original pair. Let us take a sentence like “They are
all right”
and ask ourselves whether the accent of the last two words can be so varied that the sentence means two quite different things. We find that this can actually take place. If we pronounce the last two words so that they are equal in stress we find the sentence means “
All of them
are
right”;
if we pronounce them so that
right
is more strongly accented than
all
it means “They are not in danger; they are safe,” or, more generally, “You needn’t worry about them.” It is easy to see that this second meaning of
all right
represents a fusion of the original elements.
2
This learned correspondent, however, would not grant
alright
anything above colloquial status. It is, he said, “very convenient in everyday intercourse, but of no importance whatever in literary composition. I find that I use it regularly in ordinary conversation, but never have occasion to write it except in familiar correspondence. When I do write it, I spell it as two words.”
3
This English tendency to follow American example in spelling is not extended to two classes of words – those ending with -
or
, and those of the
defense
class. Here orthographical logic has little to do with the matter; it is, rather, one of national pride. “The American
abolition of
-our
in such words,” says H. W. Fowler in “A Dictionary of Modern English Usage,”
1
“has probably retarded rather than quickened English progress in the same direction. Our first notification that the book we are reading is not English but American is often the sight of an
-or
. ‘Yankee,’ we say, and congratulate ourselves on spelling like gentlemen; we wisely decline to regard it as a matter of argument; the English way cannot but be better than the American way; that is enough.”
2
Unhappily, this English tenderness protects only relatively few words,
e.g., honour, humour, odour, labour, favour, valour, vapour, vigour
, etc. Quite as many are already spelled with
-or, e.g., governor, horror, pallor, tremor, author, censor, victor, tutor, donor, conqueror, juror, emperor, solicitor, visitor, tailor, warrior, error
, etc., and so are many of the derivatives of the
-our
words,
e.g., honorary, odorous, laborious, valorous, vigorous, vaporous
, etc. There is, indeed, no order in the business, for
honorary
and
honorific
stand beside
honourable, laborious
stands beside
laboured, labourer, labouring
and
Labourite, odorous
beside
odourless, humorist
beside
humour, coloration
beside
colour, vigorous
beside
vigourless
, etc.
3
In late years the English have moved from
-our
to
-or
in the agentnouns, save in the single case of
Saviour
,
4
but the rule in other classes of words is so complicated and so full of exceptions that no lexicographer has been able to explain it.
5
In many cases the spelling has been changed, sometimes long ago and sometimes only recently.
Orator
, for example, was
oratour
to Chaucer but
orator
to Shakespeare.
Governor
was
governour
to Samuel Johnson in 1775, though Clarendon had written
governor
in 1647. Not infrequently
-our
has been dropped for
-or
, and later restored. John Wesley, writing in 1791, reported that the use of
-or
in
honor, vigor
, etc., was then a “fashionable impropriety” and denounced it as “mere childish affectation,” but Coleridge was still spelling
honor
in 1809, though
Wordsworth, in the same year, made it
honour
. Samuel Johnson spelled
errour
in his Dictionary of 1755,
1
and that spelling remained orthodox until the end of the Eighteenth Century, though Shakespeare, Ben Jonson and Sir Thomas Browne had used
error
. The use of
color
instead of
colour
was denounced by an English lady author so lately as 1937,
2
but the NED traces
colorific
to 1676,
coloration
to 1626, and
color
itself to 1663. H. W. Fowler seemed to be convinced that his fellow-Englishmen, soon or late, would adopt the
-or
-endings, despite their present distaste for them. He said:
What is likely to happen is that either, when some general reform of spelling is consented to, reduction of
-our
to
-or
will be one of the least disputed items, or, failing general reform, we shall see word after word in
-our
go the way of
governour
. It is not worth while either to resist such a gradual change or to fly in the face of national sentiment by trying to hurry it; it would need a very open mind indeed in an Englishman to accept
armor
and
succor
with equanimity.
3
The use of
c
instead of
s
in
defense
and
offense
is etymologically incorrect, but the English cling to it resolutely. Webster hazarded the guess that the change to
c
“was made or encouraged by printers, for the sake of avoiding the use of the old long
s
,” but this was obvious nonsense, for Langland and Gower wrote
defence
in the Fourteenth Century, before there was any printing, and there is no evidence that printers ever objected to the long
s
. Gower also used
offence
, and so did Wyclif, but Lydgate preferred
offense
, and Chaucer used both spellings. The English use a
c
in
pretence
, but they have abandoned it for
s
in
expense
and
recompense
, so there is some hope that they may come over to the American way in other
words soon or late. In those beginning with
en-
or
in-, em-
or
im-
, they prefer the
e
, but there is a good deal of inconsistency in their practise. Thus they use both
to ensure
and
insurance, to endorse
and
indorsation
. The NED prefers
inquiry
to
enquiry
, but
enquiry
seems to maintain a considerable popularity in England.
1
Fowler recommends
en-
or
em-
in
to embed, to empanel, to enclose, to encrust, endorsement
and
to entrench
, but in the United States
in-
and
im-
are commoner. The English still use œe and œe in words in which, on this side of the ocean, simple
e
usually suffices,
e.g., anœmia, anœsthetic, amœeba, œcology, fœtus, œdema, œsophagus, œcumenical, hœmorrhage, mediœval, encyclopœdia, gynœcology, diarrhœa and homœopathy
, but there seems to be a movement toward the American
e
.
2
The
Encyclopœdia
Britannica retains the
œ
in its own name, and clings to
anœmia
and
anœsthetic
, but it now spells
hyena
as we do, not as
hyœna
.
Pediatrics, phenomenon, economy, pedagogy
and
penology
are now spelled by all English writers as they are in the United States: once they were
pœdiatrics, phœnomenon, œconomy, pœdagogy
, and
pœnology
or
pœnology
.
