BAD SPELLERS.

Timaru Herald, Volume CXXXIII, Issue 18760, 26 December 1930, Page 13

BAD SPELLERS.

DEFENDED BY BELLOC. Time was (writes Mr Hilaire Belloc in the “New Statesman”) when I trembled at the thought of a misspelt word; but now that I have recognised spelling for the least part of scholarship, and, indeed, hardly a part of scholarship at all, I care less for it than a doit—whatever that may be. Our fathers cared so little for the ridiculous thing that they did not even spell their own names the same way throughout their lives, and as for common words, they seem to have had an instinct which I cannot but applaud for ennobling them with repetitions of letters and flourishes, with the pretty trick of using a “y” for an “i” and doubling consonants. In general they were all for festooning and decorating, which is a very honest and noble taste. When they said of a man “I esteem hym ne moore than a pygge,” one knows what they meant and one feels their contempt vibrating. Spelling is a great breeder of hatred among the nations and of divisions, misapprehensions, wars—or, as our fathers more splendidly put it (to a roll of drums) “Warres”; as also of Dissencyous and Broils. Here myself I confess to the weakness; to see “labour” spelt “labor” makes me see red. It makes all that is ancient in England see red; and the more openly we admit it the better for international and domestic peace. Now, that this word “labor” should be so abhorent to the intimate taste of the English mind is a very good reply to the pedants who will defend spelling as a reminder of the origin of words. “Labor” is right. “Labour” is a twisted thing, coming round by way of a dead French usage. You may say, of course, if you like, that, even so, it teaches you a little history and that at least such spelling reminds you that the gentry were French before they were English. But if you say this you lie; for it teaches people nothing of the sort, and such few people as hear this truth about the English gentry only fall into a passion and disbelieve it.

Spelling also panders to the vices of men, and more particularly to social pride. Many a man has lost his soul by putting a redundant “e” at the end of his name to borrow a false rank therefrom. I could quote you the case of at least one peer whose father actually had the name of his titular village misspelt on the map in order to make himself look mediaeval. So it is with the people who use two little f’s instead of one big f at the beginning of their surnames. They are fools. In same way men with foreign names, if those

are of a common sort, will respell them into English; but if they are of the nobler kind it is the other way about—they will turn them from plain English into something Frenchified so as to look as though they were descended, not from tripe-sellers, as they are indeed, but from great barons of the thirteenth century. Thus a man called Roach, because one of his forbears had a fishface will call himself “de la Roche”; or a man called Lemon because his forbear was too yellow will call himself "T.’Hemon,” which is ridiculous. Spell, therefore, at your own sweet will. I not only give you leave of charter so to do, but will at call support you with argument. Only I warn you of one thing; if you do, you are in for lifelong war with the printers, and they are a powerful and close corporation.