IT has been said that in certain points of style no two persons would agree in their decision. The expression is too strong, but what is really meant is certainly true. Almost every question of style finds different answers.

This has been noted as an objection to the forming of proof-readers’ associations, the objectors assuming that none of the differences of opinion can be overcome. A contrary assumption must be the basis of accomplishment, and must be proved to be true, if anything is accomplished. Discussion must be had, full and free; every opinion that finds expression must be carefully considered, and all opinions carefully compared, in order to select the best. With this object clearly agreed upon, and always kept in view, and with each member of the association pledged to support the decision of the majority, would not much good result, at least in the way of agreement in matters that are commonly left to the proof-reader’s decision?

Except for the fact that nothing can be too foolish to find a parallel in history, the assertion might be made that our proof-readers could not be foolish enough to persist in holding individual opinions obstinately in the face of real proof that they are erroneous, or even that some other opinion is really more common and therefore better. An instance that happens to present itself for comparison is the tulipomania, or “craze for tulips,” in Holland early in the seventeenth century. People were so crazy then as to sell and resell tulipbulbs at ridiculously high prices, even to the extent of creating a financial panic. Human nature is the same now as then; and although the matter of choosing between variant spellings, or other variations of style, never will create a financial panic, lack of agreement in choice does cause much annoyance, and even in some cases loss of money, by stealing compositors’ time through unnecessary changing of type. The “stylomaniac” is as foolish, relatively, as were the old Dutch tulipomaniacs.

Nothing could be more advantageous to a proof-reader than a full record of forms that could be followed without change. Such a record does not exist, and probably could not be made really exhaustive. It is doubtful whether any book or periodical ever fully reproduced the spelling of any dictionary, for the simple reason that lexicographers do not recognize the practical needs of printers. Spellings, word-divisions, and capitalization have never had, in the making of a dictionary, such analogical treatment as they must have to furnish thoroughly reliable guidance for printers; yet the dictionary is and must be the principal authority.

One remarkable instance of false leading has arisen through the old-time omission of technical words in dictionaries. Indention has always been the printers’ word for the sinking in of the first line of a paragraph, yet many printers now say indentation, because it was discovered that indention was not in the dictionary. The right word is given by our recent lexicographers. Drew’s “Pens and Types” protests strongly against indentation, and MacKellar’s “American Printer” uses indention, which is probably an older word than the other. Old-time printers knew too much of Latin to put any reference to saw-teeth in their name for paragraph-sinkage, and indentation is properly applicable only to something resembling saw-teeth.

Printers and proof-readers must often reason from analogy in deciding how to spell. They have not the time to look up every word, and so they often differ from their authority in spelling. Every one knows how to spell referee, and, because of the similarity of the words, many have rightly printed conferee. A letter to the editor asked why a certain paper did this, and the editor answered that he would see that it did not happen again—because Webster and Worcester had the abominable spelling conferree! Why Webster ever spelled it so is a mystery, especially as it violates his common practice. Why Worcester copied Webster in this instance is a deeper mystery, since he had been employed on the Webster dictionary and made his own as much different in spelling as he could with any show of authority. The revisers of the Webster work have corrected the misspelling, and the other new dictionaries spell the word correctly.

Word-divisions are a source of much annoyance. Here again we have the lexicographers to thank, for no one of them has given us a practical guide. There are many classes of words that should be treated alike in this respect, and not one of these classes is so treated in any dictionary. Here is a short list from the “Webster’s International”:

The one thing needed here is simplification. We should be at liberty to decide, without contradiction by our highest authorities, that if conductive is divided after the t, productive should have the same division. The difference arises from a false etymological assumption. One of the words is held to be made of two English elements—a word and a suffix—and the other is treated like its Latin etymon. True science would take the Latin etymon as the source of every word ending in ive, and divide every one of them between the consonants, regardless of the fact that some such words did not exist in Latin. It is sufficient that they all follow the Latin model, as conductivus. Many other terminations are properly on the same footing, as ant, ent, or; they are not real English formative suffixes. In every word like those mentioned ending in tive after another consonant, the division should be between the consonants. This would be truly scientific, as no real scholarly objection can be made, and it leaves the right division in each instance unmistakable, no matter how little may be known of Latin or etymology.

Simplification is the great need in all matters of form or style—the easy and scientific conclusion that in all exactly similar instances the one reasoning applies, with the one result. The men who rank as our highest authorities as to spelling, and who should be best qualified to lead us, lack one necessary accomplishment—a practical knowledge of the art preservative. Their efforts now are largely devoted to what they call spelling-reform, but their kind of reform is spoiling reform. English spelling is said by them to be absurdly difficult to learn, and they say they desire to make it easy by spelling phonetically. The matter is one of large detail, the phonetic spelling has many learned advocates, and there is a true scientific basis for many radical changes; but what is proposed as our ultimate spelling will be harder to learn, as it is now indicated, than is our present spelling.

Reform is needed, but not of the kind advocated by those who now pose as reformers. Universal agreement on a choice between traveler and traveller, theatre and theater, etc., would be highly advantageous; changing have to hav, etc., is merely whimsical, especially as some of the “et cÆteras” are not so simple as they claim to be—notably the arbitrary use of both c and k for the k sound.

Our philologists are not likely to do for us what we very much need to have done.

Why should not the proof-readers do it for themselves—and also for the whole English-speaking world?