The Art of Writing Speaking the English Language | Page 7

a general way, and if this were all that is needed, we should all be
good spellers if we were able to read fluently. But it is not all. The
observation of the general form of a word is not the observation that
teaches spelling. We must have the habit of observing every letter in
every word, and this we are not likely to have unless we give special
attention to acquiring it.
The "visualization" method of teaching spelling now in use in the
schools is along the line of training the eye to observe every letter in a
word. It is good so far as it goes; but it does not go very far. The reason
is that there is a limit to the powers of the memory, especially in the
observation of arbitrary combinations of letters. What habits of
visualization would enable the ordinary person to glance at such a
combination as the following and write it ten minutes afterward with no
aid but the single glance: hwgufhtbizwskoplmne? It would require some
minutes' study to memorize such a combination, because there is
nothing to aid us but the sheer succession of forms. The memory works
by association. We build up a vast structure of knowledge, and each
new fact or form must be as securely attached to this as the new wing
of a building; and the more points at which attachment can be formed
the more easily is the addition made.
The Mastery of Irregular Words.
Here, then, we have the real reason for a long study of principles,
analogies, and classifications. They help us to remember. If I come to
the word colonnade in reading, I observe at once that the double n is an
irregularity. It catches my eye immediately. "Ah!" I reflect almost in
the fraction of a second as I read in continuous flow, "here is another of
those exceptions." Building on what I already know perfectly well, I
master this word with the very slightest effort. If we can build up a
system which will serve the memory by way of association, so that the
slight effort that can be given in ordinary reading will serve to fix a

word more or less fully, we can soon acquire a marvellous power in the
accurate spelling of words.
Again: In a spelling-book before me I see lists of words ending in ise,
ize, and yse, all mixed together with no distinction. The arrangement
suggests memorizing every word in the language ending with either of
these terminations, and until we have memorized any particular word
we have no means of knowing what the termination is. If, however, we
are taught that ize is the common ending, that ise is the ending of only
thirty-one words, and yse of only three or four, we reduce our task
enormously and aid the memory in acquiring the few exceptions. When
we come to franchise in reading we reflect rapidly, "Another of those
verbs in ise!" or to paralyse, "One of those very few verbs in yse!" We
give no thought whatever to all the verbs ending in ize, and so save so
much energy for other acquirements.
If we can say, "This is a violation of such and such a rule," or "This is a
strange irregularity," or "This belongs to the class of words which
substitutes ea for the long sound of e, or for the short sound of e."
We have an association of the unknown with the known that is the most
powerful possible aid to the memory. The system may fail in and of
itself, but it more than serves its purpose thus indirectly in aiding the
memory.
We have not spoken of the association of word forms with sounds, the
grouping of the letters of words into syllables, and the aid that a careful
pronunciation gives the memory by way of association; for while this is
the most powerful aid of all, it does not need explanation.
The Mastery of Regular Words.
We have spoken of the mastery of irregular words, and in the last
paragraph but one we have referred to the aid which general principles
give the memory by way of association in acquiring the exceptions to
the rules. We will now consider the great class of words formed
according to fixed principles.

Of course these laws and rules are little more than a string of analogies
which we observe in our study of the language. The language was not
and never will be built to fit these rules. The usage of the people is the
only authority. Even clear logic goes down before usage. Languages
grow like mushrooms, or lilies, or bears, or human bodies. Like these
they have occult and profound laws which we can never hope to
penetrate,---which are