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at any time. These assertions are so extraordinary, that they require to be strictly proved.” This Mr. Ellis proceeds to do in an elaborate series of tables. “We violate every principle of a sound alphabetical system more outrageously than any nation whatever. Our characters do not correspond to our articulations, and our spelling of words cannot be matched for irregularity and whimsical caprice.” To this disregard of the principles of a true orthography, and the consequent difficulty of acquiring a correct knowledge of spelling and pronunciation, may be referred the fact that millions speak the English language who cannot read or write it. It also causes a great waste of time in the attainment of the elements of learning by the young. Many practical educators hare considered the adoption of a system of orthography by which these evils would be removed, as highly desirable, but it has generally been thought to be unattainable. The truth which Shakespeare has embodied in the well-known lines– “There's a Divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will,”
should ever inspire men with energy and perseverance to do something, however small, to rectify error, and replace evil by good. That which few had courage even to hope for, has been realised through the apparently unimportant circumstance of the publication, in 1837, of a new system of shorthand, based on an analysis of the English spoken language. The author of this system of Phonography had originally no intention to disturb the established orthography of the language, and in the third edition of his work, published in 1840, he observed, “It is, of course, Utopian to hope to change the printed medium of intercourse of the millions who speak the English language; but it is not extravagant or hopeless to attempt to find a substitute for the complicated system of writing which we at present employ.” In about a year after this opinion was published, the success of phonetic shorthand writing led many who em. ployed the system to ask why the principle of phonetic spelling, so advantageous in writing, should not be applied to printing. The blessings that would follow the introduction of a natural system of spelling, and the evils of the current orthography, then began to appear in their true light; and after many attempts to construct a phonetic printing alphabet, with correspending forms for longhand writing, phonetic printing commenced in January, 1844, in the Phonotypic Journal. We are encouraged to hope, from what has already been effected in the production and dissemination of books printed phonetically, that, in the course of time, the current orthography will give place to a system in which the phonetic idea will be uniformly respected.
Several attempts to construct and bring into use a phonetic alphabet have been made at different times, by men eminent in literature; but these attempts were characterised by extreme imattention to details, and society had not in any degree been prepared for the change. The cause of orthographic reform was pioneered by Sir John Cheke in 1540, by Bishop Wilkins in 1668, and by Dr. Franklin in 1768. The fear which is entertained by some, that the etymology of words will be obscured by the introduction of phonetic spelling, is groundless. One of the highest English authorities on this subject, Dr. Latham, says, “All objections to change [in spelling] on the matter of theoretical propriety, are as worthless as they ever could be thought to be;” and the late learned Chevalier Bunsen asserts that phonetic spelling is “comparative philology combined with universal ethnology,” that the introduction of a phonetic alphabut is the “generally-felt desideratum of the age,” and that ...the theory of etymology is inseparable from that of phonology.” Max Müller observes, “I feel convinced of the truth and rea*nableness of the principles on which phonetic spelling rests, and as the innate regard for truth and reason, however dormant of timid at times, has always proved irresistible in the end, enabling men to part with all they hold most dear and sacred, whether corn laws, or Stuart dynasties, or papal legates, or *then idols, I doubt not that the effete and corrupt orthography will follow in their train. Nations have before now changed this mumerical figures, their letters, their chronology, their weights and measures; and though Mr. Pitman may not live to * the results of his persevering and disinterested exertions, *teguires no prophetic power to perceive that what at present * pooh-poohed by the many, will make its way in the end, * met by arguments stronger than those hitherto levelled
at the Fonetik Nuz. One argument which might be supposed to weigh with the student of language, namely, the obscuration of the etymological structure of words, I cannot consider very formidable. The pronunciation of languages changes according to fixed laws; the spelling is changed in the most arbitrary manner, so that if our spelling followed the pronunciation of words, it would in reality be a greater help to the critical student of language than the present uncertain and unscientific mode of writing.” But it is not merely the inconsistency of English orthography of which we have to complain. The characters employed in ordinary writing are too lengthy and complicated to allow of their being written with expedition. A system of writing is required that shall bring the operations of the mind and of the hand into close correspondence; and, by making writing as easy and as rapid as speech, shall relieve the penman from the drudgery inseparable from the use of the present system. In allusion to this great want of the presentage, it was remarked in the Introduction to the fifth edition of Phonography, 1842, “There has hitherto existed among all nations the greatest disparity, in point of facility and dispatch, between speaking and writing: the former has always been comparatively rapid, easy, and delightful; the latter tedious, cumbrous, and wearisome. It is most strange that we, who excel our progenitors so far in science, literature, and commerce, should continue to use the mode of writing which they have handed down to us (with but very slight changes in the forms of the letters), though, by its complexity, it obliges the readiest hand to spend at least six hours in writing what can be spoken in one.” Phonography supplies this great want by presenting a system of alphabetic writing, capable of being written with the speed of the most rapid distinct articulation, and of being read with the certainty and ease of ordinary longhand. This perfect legibility is not possessed by any of the common systems of shorthand writing, which, being based upon the Roman alphabet, necessarily partake of its inconsistencies and deficiencies. It is well known that manuscripts written in accordance with other systems of shorthand, can seldom be read by more than one or two persons besides the writer, and after a short time, usually become undecipherable to the writer himself. On the other hand, phonography, which has for many years been used by thousands of persons in letter-writing, is found to be even more legible than ordinary longhand. By phonography, as adapted to reporting, in a work entitled “The Reporter's Companion,” the most fluent speaker may be taken down, absolutely word for word, and the reporter's notes may be set up in type by any phonographic compositor who can read the reporting style; or if the reporter reads over his riotes, and inserts a few vowels, his manuscript may then be read, with the facility of ordinary writing, by any one who has learned the system. Verbatim reports of speeches have been set up by the compositors of the Bath Journal, Norfolk News, New York Tribune, and other English and American newspapers, without having been transcribed into longhand. As it is calculated that six hours are required to transcribe for the press what occupied one hour in delivery, this new system of reporting, while it is incomparably more accurate than the old systems, has the additional advantage of saving five hours out of every six at present devoted to preparing the report for the press. The system of shorthand writing here presented, is the result of innumerable stenographic experiments, extending over a period of thirty years. These experiments were undertaken in order to ascertain the signs best adapted for the expression of the acknowledged sounds of the language. The great practice which the system has received, and is still receiving, from the many thousands who constantly use it, not merely for reporting, but for the various purposes of every-day life, such as writing letters, making notes and extracts, keeping accounts, composition, etc., and the great liberality with which they have communicated their suggestions to the author, have enabled him to produce a work far exceeding in completeness, beauty, and utility, anything he could have hoped for at its first publication in 1837; and he believes that as no other system of shorthand has had such great advantages, or is based upon so just and philosophical a view of the elements of spoken language, so no other has attained the same degree of perfection, or possesses the same undeniable legibility, combined with the same adaptability to the most rapid execution.
LESSONS IN ITALIAN.—I. INTRODUCTION.
I PRopose to teach the grammar, structure, and vocabulary of the Italian language by a method not commonly adopted by the learned. A considerable experience in tuition has convinced me that a strict adherence to scientific forms, though all-important in the cultivation of a language, does not tend to the advantage of the learner. Writers of practical grammar err, for the most part, in studying system too much. They teach grammar as they would the pure mathematics, as if an abstract science of itself, and not as a practical guide through the idiomatic intricacies of living languages. Such instructions may be very scientific in form, but they do not follow nature: there is no due separation of that which is the foundation, or, as it were, the skeleton of a language, from those things which are the ornaments, the delicacies, the accidents, and exceptions of speech. A language should be taught as anatomy is taught. We must first thoroughly study the bones, if we would successfully trace the intricate ramifications of nerves and arteries. The learner of a foreign tongue cannot for himself judge of what is material or immaterial to his sure and rapid progress. It will be my endeavour to instruct by a colloquial and natural, rather than a grammatical and purely scientific method. The Italian language has for a long time been regarded in this country as a fashionable branch of education. Knowledge of it has been reckoned an indispensable accomplishment of cultivated society, but rather, as it would seem to me, as a serviceable attendant at Italian picture galleries and operas, than as a guide to the philosophy of a Dante, the invention of an Ariosto, or the sagacity of a Machiavelli. The present is perhaps the first considerable atte that has been made to popularise this noble and melodious tongue. The Italian is the first-born of the old language of Rome, and owns a strength and beauty worthy of its noble origin. In cultivation, it is the oldest of European tongues. When Dante wrote, English, French, and German were comparatively rude dialects. To Italy the world owes the preservation and regeneration of learning and the arts; and its fine soil, the fertile mother of great spirits of old, has produced to the latest times men who have enriched every intellectual pursuit alike by their genius and learning. The language in which they expressed that infinite variety of thought and sentiment, contains a literature, the rich mine of which is in foreign countries only known to solitary and toilsome explorers. The time may not be dis. tant when the increased intercommunication of nations, and the progress of popular education, will lay these rich treasures open to the many. For its own intrinsic merits, however, as a language, Italian deserves to be studied by every one who would enjoy the pleasures of style, inexhaustible in variety: the energy of Dante, the graphic power of Boccaccio, the lyrical grace of Petrarca, the refinement of Ariosto, the ornament of Tasso, the satire of Berni and Aretino, the historical dignity of Guicciardini and Botta, the point and perspicuity of Machiavelli, the hilarity of Casti, the music of Metastasio, and the Roman manliness of Alfieri. And they who would cultivate language for its excellence must seek that of Italy for the ideal beauty of expression. My method will be a natural, a simple, and, I trust, an easy one. I shall discard, as much as possible, all the conventional terms of grammar. I shall not travel by the old beaten pathway through the parts of speech. My grammatical progress will imitate the action of the mind in the formation of a sentence, with a due regard to peculiarities of idiom. As a child first learns the name of a thing, I begin with the noun, as soon as I have clearly explained the principles of pronunciation; and as the child demonstrates its progress in thinking by connecting an action or suffering with the object named, I shall proceed at once to the verbs. The verb is the life of a language, and he who knows the verbs thoroughly has mastered the chief difficulty of his task. The remaining kinds of words will be taught and discussed in the same natural order. These lessons will contain, if I may so speak, two grammars. Presuming that I may find two classes of readers—one anxious for knowledge by the most easy and rapid manner, the other with more preparation, inelination, and leisure for study—I have so shaped my labour as to combine in a form sufficiently marked, though not separated, an elementary grammar which
shall give the before-mentioned indispensabla foundation and skeleton; and a grammatical treatise which shall, with philosophical reasons, satisfactorily explain the ornaments, the delicacies, the accidents, and exceptions of the language.
As I have said, I shall not divide my grammar into parts of speech, but into paragraphs. In the paragraphs I shall distinctly mark the line of separation between the elementary grammar and the grammatical treatise by the title of “ADDITIONAL REMARKs.” The student who only desires to learn the language sufficiently to enable him to read, speak, and write with tolerable accuracy, need only attend to the numbered paragraphs; but he who would learn the language thoroughly, must follow me closely and carefully in all I may find occasion to say in the additional remarks.
Each paragraph will be complete in itself—a decided step in the knowledge of the language. Every principle of the language will be clearly illustrated by examples, including vocabularies and exercises.
I have now only to ask the earnest and patient attention of my pupil readers.
I.—ON THE PRONUNCIATION OF ITALIAN.
I shall teach the pronunciation of the Italian language in more detail than is generally pursued in English tuition. The profit to be derived from the study of any living language is much less if we are unable to pronounce it correctly. We can make little practical use of our theoretical acquirements, if in communication with those to whom this language is the mother tongue; we can neither make ourselves understood when we speak, nor understand when we are spoken to. And besides, no man, though he may gather the sense, can relish or even comprehend the beauties or delicacies of great poets, and prose writers, too, in any language, and more especially in that of Italy, without an accurate knowledge of the sounds. In reading such poets as Ariosto or Tasso, the pleasure does not consist altogether in appreciating the thoughts, or even shades of thoughts, but in the faculty to enjoy that divine harmony to which they have attuned the language. One may relish the beauty of the rose, but if he be deprived of the sense of smell, he can admire only a lifeless beauty. Such students of the Italian poets, to use a more homely figure, may read their poetry with the satisfaction with which one might admire a Turkey carpet, who has seen the reverse side only. There is no insuperable or even very considerable difficulty in mastering Italian pronunciation; but a thoughtful attention to some leading principles, and a student-like diligence, are conditions essential to success. My thoughtful and industrious pupils will very soon find that a prolixity in this the very outset of my labours which might seem trifling, is really most important—one of the fundamental parts of the language. I am aware that I am writing for the most part for adult readers; but let them for a little space forget the dignity of manhood; for every learner of a language, be he as old as Cato was when he learnt Greek, should be regarded as a child learning to express his thoughts. Indeed, the more he is taught aforeign tongue as the child his mother's speech, the better for him. A living language can never be accurately and completely expressed by signs. They who profess the contrary only mislead the uninformed. But a tolerable approach to accuracy in fixing pronunciation may be made by letter-signs representing analogous sounds familiar to the ear in one's own language. If one has made himself so familiar with the imitated sounds, as to have acquired a considerable vocal command of the leading ones, he may very soon accurately and permanently acquire them, by a few brief communications with an educated native. Perhaps the most useful beginning I can make, is to point out the leading errors which Englishmen commit in pronouncing Italian. The reason of this is, that men are apt to transfer involuntarily the peculiarities of their own language to that which they are studying. The first effort, therefore, in learning to pronounce Italian, should be to forget your native peculiarities. In the mastery of the pronunciation of the continental languages, and particularly of Italian, the Englishman's great difficulty is in the vowels. The Englishman, perhaps from childhood, has heard no vowel sounds but those of his own island—his four sounds of a, his four sounds of o, his three sounds of u, his two sounds of e, and his two sounds of i–sounds little swayed by rule, and changing continually. He begins Italian, but carrying to the study the complex vocal habit of his language, it must be some time before he can comprehend and practise the simplicity and permanence of the sound of one Italian a, one Italian i, one Italian u, two Italian e's, and two Italian o's. He therefore pronounces no vowel purely, and wherever he may move in Italy, his insular nativity will be instantly recognised by the facchino of any village inn, from his inveterate habit of giving to the Italian a that most comical of sounds to a Tuscan ear, of a in hat and fat. Another radical error committed by Englishmen in pronouncing Italian, arises from two opposite principles, which may be said to be the fundamental rules of the accentuation of the languages. In English, every word has its leading, marked, or strongly accented syllable—generally speaking, the root of the word; and it follows that while this syllable is distinctly marked by the voice, the subordinate unaccented syllables fade away in the utterance into an airy nothingness that can hardly be described. It is quite different with Italian. It has its accented syllables just as in English, but the accent on the one does not destroy the vocal enunciation of the others. On the contrary, full and substantial justice must be done to every syllable, each being clearly sounded, full and roundly with the vowels, and in a resonant or vibrating tone with the consonants. The contrast may be observed in the pronunciation of any of the many words of a kindred sound in both languages derived from the same classic stock. Take the following:—
English. Italian. Difficulty Diffi-col-tá. Voluntarily. Vo-lon-ta-ria-men-te. Detestably. De-te-sta-bil-men-te. Generously. Ge-me-ro-sa-men-te. Indifferently. In-diffe-ren-te-mon-te. Repetition. Re-pe-ti-zi-o-ne.
This peculiarity of the English language, it may be remarked, is the great obstacle which every English poet has encountered in the effort to naturalise the classic measures of antiquity. Contrasted with the open limpid vocalisation of Italy, the promm.ciation of the English is to an Italian so obscure or indistinct, as very frequently not to be even understood. It might be presumed that in a word so sonorous as detestabilmente or colontariamente it would be impossible to miss the true sounds, yet an Englishman will, generally speaking, so slur over what he would from the analogy of his own language conceive to be the subordinate parts of the word, as to be often quite unintelligible to an Italian.
A third and radical difference between the two languages, as regards the principles of pronunciation, proceeds from what may be termed the vocal mechanism or the physical principles of enunciation. Shortly stated, the physical difference is this: in England, they speak from the mouth; in Italy, from the ehest. The Englishman whispers his words through the palate, tongue, teeth, or lips; the Italian throws them out with the vigour of his lungs. When, therefore, the Englishman attempts the pronunciation of Italian after his accustomed mode, he confines the open sounds of Italy to the limited mechanism of his hissing or lisping articulation above the throat, and turns Italian melody into harmonious discord, now a croak, now a hiss.
These are the radical differences and difficulties which my readers must strive to overcome. This is only to be accomplished by a constant recollection of these points of difference in connection with the rules I am about to state and illustrate, and by reading aloud, with a clear and distinct voice uttered from the chest, every Italian word which I may have occasion to give in the course of the grammar.
LESSONS IN MUSIC.—XIV.
ILLUSTRATIons of MENTAL EFFECT of FAH AND LAH. 1. In pursuance of our design to illustrate the proper mental effect of each note of the scale, we intend in this lesson to illustrate the fourth and the sixth–FAH and LAH. But let us afresh guard our pupils against misunderstanding. The mental effects of which we speak do not reside in the musical sound itself, but in the association with which the mind invests each note as it rises, clothing and colouring it with the relationship it holds to other sounds just heard, and which still linger on the ear. In other words, the key must be “established” by
singing its common chord, or, yet more clearly, by adding also its TE and FAH, before the distinctive character and mental effect of any particular note is felt. The more completely “the ear is filled ” with the other notes of the key, especially with those of opposite effect, the more clearly will the note to be illustrated be “brought out.” Let the pupils also remember that these mental effects are modified in a marked manner by rate of movement, as well as by the accompanying harmony and other circumstances. We shall first give the result of our own observations, and then follow them by illustrations which will enable the pupil to test the truth of our assertions. 2. The general character of suspense and expectancy belongs both to FAH and LAH, but more strongly to the former. When FAH is held at any length the mind is conscious of an urgent and increasing desire for its solution in ME. But to LAH is allowed a greater independence, and it does not so soon demand its rest in soh. Dr. Bryce compares ME and soh to objects lying at rest on the ground, while LAH is “thrown loose and detached, with little indication of return,” and FAH is “in the act of alighting.” We have often likened LAH to the “skyrocket ’’ which mounts with an upward aim, but having reached its height shines beautifully for a moment, and then softly and elegantly descends. Such comparisons must, of necessity, be “far fetched.” But you cannot form a comparison, or judge of one, without minutely observing the things compared. If, by our far-fetched comparisons we secure your doing this we are quite satisfied. Let the pupil observe for himself, and he will presently form a more perfect mental conception of the thing itself than any description or any language can convey. 3. If the mental impressions produced by FAH and LAH be . further sought, it will soon be noticed that they have an effect, when sung slowly, which would lead us to denominate
FAH as the desolate or awe-inspiring NoTE. LAH as the weeping or sorrowful NoTE.
The names thus given help greatly to fix the attention, and many adults as well as children have been very thankful for the aid they give to the mind's command over the voice. We have seen many a class who could not at first strike LAH correctly, but were unable to mistake when told that they must make it a “weeping note.” But it should be borne in mind that neither these nor any other single or ordinary terms of language can fittingly describe the mental effect which shall belong to a certain note of the scale under all its modifications of pitch, force, length, etc. We can only describe it proximately. But the effort to do so, or only to perceive the proximate truth of the description, kindles thought and feeling. If you were teaching others to understand these points, your best plan would be first to produce the effect, and then to get your pupils to describe your own impressions of it, with as much variety of language as possible. For instance, you might sing a short phrase to words or figures, and ask your pupils to describe the effect of the note which fell to such a word or figure. Another good exercise would be for you, after the mental effect of a note has been described or perceived, to sing a short phrase or tune to figures, and to ask your pupils which figure such a note was sung to. Thus the true conception and recognition of the mental effect of the notes will be reached. The mind is quicker than our words, and will form the idea long before we can express it. Thus it often is with some word in a new language which has no perfect synonyme in our own, much study of dictionary, context, and concordance, with many endeavours to express it, at last brings us to the thought, and we enter on the luxury of mental translation, which is pleasanter to us than the verbal, but could not have been reached without its aid. Thus may our pupils be able to study and mentally enjoy the beautiful tunes we lay before them. 4. If you notice the modification of these notes by rate of movement, you will find that while they give PATHos to a tune when sung slowly, they give a peculiar LIGHTNEss and ELEGANCE to it when sung quickly. 5. A correspondent, Mr. Peyton (who has for years adopted this plan of teaching his pupils the mental effect of notes in the first stages of their course), has reminded us that the mental effect of FAH is strikingly illustrated in Handel's song, “Holy Lord.” It opens with the calm utterance of the word “Holy” on ME, and then uses the awe-inspiring note on its very next emphasis. Presently, having repeated the same word with
In like manner Mendelssohn, when he wished to express the tender parental care of God, the “overshadowing of his wings,” the “yearning" of his love, to the words, “The Lord is mindful of his own"—travels into a new key on purpose to obtain the effect of FAH. Our pupils, who may be puzzled by the “transition” into a new key, must have patience with us. At the proper place, we shall be pleased to explain to them this exceedingly interesting subject at length. It is enough at present for them to understand that in the first instance below, the note son is treated, by ear and voice, as though it had suddenly become Doh, and the best way of pronouncing it is—by throwing the two syllables together thus, s' Doh ; and that in the next instance below, the new Doh becomes son again, as it was before, and it is to be pronounced, in sol-faing, D' son. Notwithstanding this little difficulty, we could not exclude you from so beautiful an example of the mental effect of FAH.
But the grandest manifestation of the power of the “awe-inspiring” note is to be found at the close of Handel's Hallelujah Chorus—where he employs it on nearly all the accented notes of the male voice parts (tenor and bass), while the treble voices hold clear and aloft the key-note. Never did music breathe forth the spirit of solemn awe so mightily as in this passage. That the pupil may be able to study it both now and at other stages of his course, we here print it, accompanied by our interpreting notation. It is put into the key of c. The highest “part " is the first treble, the next the second treble or alto, the next the tenor, and the lowest the bass. Our old notation
In trying to recall illustrations of FAH and LA, there came stealing into our memory the peculiarly mysterious, almost sad, and certainly awe-inspiring effect of the last note in that rising phrase, “Not there, not there, my child,” in Mrs. Hemans's song. “I hear thee speak of a better land.” We knew mot to what note of the scale to ascribe the effect as it dwelt on our memory. Turning to the piece, we were, at first, surprised to find that the word “child" is sung to a long note on upper Doh! But, who we looked at the accompanying harmony, this mysterious * plex effect was at once explained—for the bass gives two * cented notes, the first on lower LAH, the second on upper Fo we mention this not only to illustrate these notes, but to *" the influence of harmony, and to suggest what boundless variety may spring from the simple mental effects of the seven notes we are studying, when the various groupings of harmony, the : ing of “transition,” and the changes of rhythmical move” are employed to develop them. - th
In the next lesson we hope to complete our illustrations." " mental effects of FAH and LAH, and to supply some exercio** these notes for the pupil.
LESSONS IN ARCHITECTURE.—X. miles from the city, in the neighbourhood of Palestrina, made
a circuit of nearly a mile, and then passing through a deep subARCHITRAVES, ARCHES, AND VAULTED ROOFS.
terranean drain, discharged the main body of its water into the In our last lesson we attributed the application, if not the in- Campus Martius, or field of Mars, at Rome, where the asFention, of the arch to the Romans, and showed how this semblies of the people were held for elections, etc. There are ingenious people employed it in all their great and remarkable no remains of this aqueduct existing at the present time. The edifices. According to Frontinus, who was appointed the curator next was the Anio Vetus or old Anio aqueduct, constructed about or superintendent of public works by the Emperor Nerva, Rome | 273 B.C., which received this name because it brought the
was supplied by water by nine great aqueducts; to these he waters of the Anio, a tributary of the Tiber, into the city of added five more, and the number was increased by succeeding Rome. The commencement of this aqueduct was at the disemperors to twenty altogether. The arches required in the tance of 30 miles from the city, and it consisted chiefly of a construction of these aqueducts may be more easily conceived winding drain which was carried through an extent of 43 miles. than described. The most remarkable of them may be here The third was the Aqua Marcia, so called because it owed its erec
tion to Quintus Marcius Rex, about 145 B.C., which originated The first was the Aqua Appia, or Appian water, so called in a spring about 60 miles distant from Rome, made a circuit because it was constructed by the censor Appius Claudius, in of three miles, and then, forming a vault of 16 feet in diameter, 442 A.U.C., that is in the 442nd year from the building of the ran 60 miles along a series of arcades at the elevation of city (Ab Urbe Condita), this being the year 311 B.C., or before 70 feet. At certain intervals of this aqueduct vents were the birth of Christ. This aqueduct commenced about seven formed for disgorging the collected air; and it was occasion