speculation, if I may not term it an important inquiry, concerning the principle of their identity. We often speak of "the same words," and of "different words;" but wherein does the sameness or the difference of words consist? Not in their pronunciation; for the same word may be differently pronounced; as, p=at'ron or p=a'tron, m=at'ron or m=a'tron. Not in their orthography; for the same word may be differently spelled; as, favour or favor, music or musick, connexion or connection. Not in their form of presentation; for the same word may be either spoken or written; and speech and writing present what we call the same words, in two ways totally different. Not in their meaning; for the same word may have different meanings, and different words may signify precisely the same thing. This sameness of words, then, must consist in something which is to be reconciled with great diversity. Yet every word is itself, and not an other: and every word must necessarily have some property peculiar to itself, by which it may be easily distinguished from every other. Were it not so, language would be unintelligible. But it is so; and, therefore, to mistake one word for an other, is universally thought to betray great ignorance or great negligence, though such mistakes are by no means of uncommon occurrence. But that the question about the identity of words is not a very easy one, may appear from the fact, that the learned often disagree about it in practice; as when one grammarian will have an and a to be two words, and an other will affirm them to be only different forms of one and the same word.
OBS. 6.--Let us see, then, if amidst all this diversity we can find that principle of sameness, by which a dispute of this kind ought to be settled. Now, although different words do generally differ in orthography, in pronunciation, and in meaning, so that an entire sameness implies one orthography, one pronunciation, and one meaning; yet some diversity is allowed in each of these respects, so that a sign differing from an other only in one, is not therefore a different word, or a sign agreeing with an other only in one, is not therefore the same word. It follows thence, that the principle of verbal identity, the principle which distinguishes every word from every other, lies in neither extreme: it lies in a narrower compass than in all three, and yet not singly in any one, but jointly in any two. So that signs differing in any two of these characteristics of a word, are different words; and signs agreeing in any two, are the same word. Consequently, if to any difference either of spelling or of sound we add a difference of signification everybody will immediately say, that we speak or write different words, and not the same: thus dear, beloved, and deer, an animal, are two such words as no one would think to be the same; and, in like manner, use, advantage, and use, to employ, will readily be called different words. Upon this principle, an and a are different words; yet, in conformity to old usage, and because the latter is in fact but an abridgement of the former, I have always treated them as one and the same article, though I have nowhere expressly called them the same word. But, to establish the principle above named, which appears to me the only one on which any such question can be resolved, or the identity of words be fixed at all, we must assume that every word has one right pronunciation, and only one; one just orthography, and only one; and some proper signification, which, though perhaps not always the same, is always a part of its essence. For when two words of different meaning are spelled or pronounced alike, not to maintain the second point of difference, against the double orthography or the double pronunciation of either, is to confound their identity at once, and to prove by the rule that two different words are one and the same, by first absurdly making them so.
OBS. 7.--In no part of grammar is usage more unsettled and variable than in that which relates to the figure of words. It is a point of which modern writers have taken but very little notice. Lily, and other ancient Latin grammarians, reckoned both species and figure among the grammatical accidents of nearly all the different parts of speech; and accordingly noticed them, in their Etymology, as things worthy to be thus made distinct topics, like numbers, genders, cases, moods, tenses, &c. But the manner of compounding words in Latin, and also in Greek, is always by consolidation. No use appears to have been made of the hyphen, in joining the words of those languages, though the name of the mark is a Greek compound, meaning "under one." The compounding of words is one principal means of increasing their number; and the arbitrariness with which that is done or neglected in English, is sufficient of itself to make the number of our words a matter of great uncertainty. Such terms, however, having the advantage of explaining themselves in a much greater degree than others, have little need of definition; and when new things are formed, it is very natural and proper to give them new names of this sort: as, steamboat, railroad. The propriety or impropriety of these additions to the language, is not to be determined by dictionaries; for that must be settled by usage before any lexicographer will insert them. And so numerous, after all, are the discrepancies found in our best dictionaries, that many a word may have its day and grow obsolete, before a nation can learn from them the right way of spelling it; and many a fashionable thing may go entirely out of use, before a man can thus determine how to name it. Railroads are of so recent invention that I find the word in only one dictionary; and that one is wrong, in giving the word a hyphen, while half our printers are wrong, in keeping the words separate because Johnson did not compound them. But is it not more important, to know whether we ought to write railroad, or rail-road, or rail road, which we cannot learn from any of our dictionaries, than to find out whether we ought to write rocklo, or roquelo, or roquelaur, or roquelaure, which, in some form or other, is found in them all? The duke of Roquelaure is now forgotten, and his cloak is out of fashion.
OBS. 8.--No regular phrase, as I have taught in the second rule above, should be needlessly converted into a compound word, either by tacking its parts together with the hyphen, or by uniting them without a hyphen; for, in general, a phrase is one thing, and a word is an other:
