With the possible exception of slang and vers libre, the most pernicious literary crime of this unsettled age is the attempted destruction of standard English spelling by fanatical so-called reformers. In the younger days of our language every man was his own orthographical authority. Not only were the works of different authors marked by dissimilar spelling, but one writer would frequently vary his usage within the compass of a single sentence, even signing his own name as the fancy of the moment dictated. The ill effects of such a system are obvious, and we need but glance at the early colonial documents of New England to perceive how confusing it was.

But increasing civilisation, acting as a check to the vagaries of individuals, gradually evolved an approximately uniform orthography, which was well established by du works of the exact and polished Augustan writers, and settled with fair definitivenes by Dr. Johnson’s epoch-making dictionary. This process of adjustment was by no means abrupt, radical, or artificial; being a mere selection and perpetuation of the best models, with the almost imperceptible abandonment of the less desirable forms. Of the benefits of this crystallisation it is scarce necessary to speak. The use of correct English, now become uniform, spread with marvellous facility throughout all classes of society; reaching every home in our northern American colonies by means of the famous old New-England Primer. The spelling-bee arose as a recognised Yankee institution, and the isolated farmer attained an orthographical level equal to that of his more cultivated urban brother.
Another and less rational side of the situation, however, had existed since the reign of Queen Elizabeth. Sir Thomas Smith, Secretary of State to that splendid monarch, brought forward a radical and artificial scheme of phonetic spelling which defied every law of conservatism and natural growth.’ Part of his system required new alphabetical characters which cannot be exhibited here, but as specimens the following may be given: priesthood, “prestud”; name, “nam”; glory, “glori”; shame, “zam”.

After England had ceased laughing at the eccentric precepts of Sir Thomas, there arose a celebrated teacher, one Dr. Gill, who became even more ridiculous in his departures from good taste. Some of his few innovations which can be spelled with ordinary letters are: gracious, “grasius”; seem, “sjm”; love, “luv”; cannot, “kanot”!

In 1634 Mr. Charles Butler published a treatise on bees wherein he displayed freakish mode of spelling which he had invented, and which approached, though scarcely equalled, the follies of Smith and Gill.

During the reign of Charles I there was a phonetic tendency which broke out in such forms as “erth” for earth, “dais” for days, and the like. Soon after this, Bishop Wilkins put forward an “ideal” orthography; which, however, he had the sense to know the public would never adopt.

There is in the author’s library an edition of Erasmus Darwin’s poems, printed in New York in 1805, and containing a novel system of representing the elision of vowels in verse. Unmark’d is here spelled “unmade”; parch’d, “parcht”; touch’d, “toucht”; lock’d”, “lockt”, and so on. However, despite all these attempts at disturbing the normal development of our spelling, no radical change has yet been seriously accepted or considered.

But the present age is eminently one of folly and radicalism. The metrical sins of the contemporary “poets” are grave and manifold; the colloquial atrocities of the prose writer are, if anything, more numerous and abominable still. For the first time in history our orthography is in danger of a deliberate destruction which will, if successful, obliterate all natural uniformity of spelling and plunge us backward three centuries into a state wherein no two men can spell alike. Each particular “reforming” fanatic has his own favourite degree of change; and unless conventional forms be guarded with the greatest assiduity, we shall by the artificial tearing down of our language attain a chaos equal to that of Chaucer’s time. Etymology, that invaluable aid to precise expression, would be extirpated, should the modern vagaries come into use.

As yet only America seems tainted by the insidious propaganda of the “spelling reformers”, but Old England itself has some very ridiculous examples, and is in ultimate danger. Most offensively does the evil appear in certain of the amateur press associations, whose personnel, mainly youthful, fall an easy prey to new fallacies. While some venture no further into the vice than to write “thru”, “tho”, and “thoro” for through, though, and thorough, others display more serious symptoms, and are liable to commit the worst excesses of perverted orthography. Are there not enough sound critics in amateurdom to conduct a systematic campaign, both by example and precept, against “simplified” spelling? Most of the scholarly element are known to be opposed to the pernicious practice, and most writers in the United refrain commendably from it; but in other associations it runs rampant and unchecked. It is here respectfully suggested that those publishers who, though using normal spelling themselves, yet print “simplified” contributions without amendment, take a definite stand for the purity of their mother-tongue, and revise all matter received to the authoritative forms of Webster, Worcester, or Stormonth.

The radicalism of today will soon become but a memory, and the present generation of free poets, peace advocates, socialistic cranks, users of slang, simplified spellers, and the like, will look back with blushes on their former folly. Is it not best, then, to assist in the extinction of the spark which if unchecked may seriously disturb our etymological and orthographical precision and uniformity? Individual influence is slight among us, but a concerted effort to save amateurdom from corrupt usages may be felt even outside the boundaries of our little world.