Again, the Italians still retain the sound of our v in all names of persons and places which have come down from the ancients. As we have before observed, such words would be less subject to alteration than any others. Thus, Valeria, Virginia, Vittoria, Virgilia, Octavia, and Livia may be adduced as examples of the names of persons; and Volterra, Venetia, Verona, Vesuvio, Velabro, among many others, as names of places. Is it possible that such names were pronounced Werona, Wenetia, Waleria, or, worse still, Liwia and Octawia (which are almost impossibly cacophonous)? At all events, we cannot recall a single name of a person or place in which v has the sound of u in Italian, whether occurring in the beginning or the middle of the word. On the contrary, there are a number of words beginning with u which, in various parts of Italy, still retain the sound of our v; as, for instance, uomo, which is sometimes pronounced vomo.*

The story told by Cicero, in his "De Divinatione," has been by some thought to show that the v was pronounced as u. When Marcus Crassus carried his army to Brundisium, a hawker of Caunean figs cried out, "Cauneas," which some interpreted as a bad omen, as he seemed to be saying " Cave ne eas," beware of going. But if the Eolic digamma was a v-if the Greeks are right in their modern pronunciation-then the hawker very nearly said, " Cave ne eas," as the Italians would pronounce it.

The Germans themselves, who claim that the consonant v of the ancient Latins was sounded like w, in their own language, singularly

devitorem. ("Martii Tullii Ciceronis Orationum Frag. inedita ex Membranis Palimpsestis," by Amadeus Peyron, p. 183.)

Peyron says that in the codices of the tenth century b and v are interchanged in more than a thousand instances, and this is also the case with e and i.

The lines of Terentius Maurus give additional weight to this view. He says:

"Graeca diphthongus ou literis nostris vacat,

Sola vocalis quod v complet hunc satis sonum."

Here, of course, he refers to the vowel v or u, and not to the consonant v.

* Again, compare in Latin such words as fatidicus, fatum, fatuus, vates, vaticinus, which are also written ratidicus, etc.-all derived from fatus-and it is clear that between the sound of the ƒ and the v there was but a slight distinction. Still further, if v had only the sound of u, what was the object of writing uva, or uvesco, or uvea? It was simply superfluous. Or how would it be possible to pronounce uvula? In the letters of Marcus Aurelius to Fronto we also find fribola for frivola (lib. ii., lib. vi.), and civo for cibo (“ De Eloquentia "); and in Fronto, vibo for vivo (lib. i., lib. viii.); and Isidorus, speaking of the habit of writing thus, says, "Birtus, boluntas, bita et his similia, quæ Afri scribendo vitiant omnino rejicienda sunt, et non per b sed per v scribenda."

enough, generally pronounce the w like our v, though they never seem accurately to distinguish between them. Vossius says: "V efferebant ut Germani duplex w; nempe pronunciabant winum, wallum, widua, wacillare, unde nostrum wijn, wall, widuwe, waggelen," etc.; but the fact is that, instead of pronouncing these words with a w, and saying, as we do, wine and widow, they commonly pronounce Wein, Vine; Witwe, Vitve; Was, Vas; Wilhelm, Vilhelm; though there is a sort of burr of w in some provinces, and in others almost a clear w. Their principles and their practice are, therefore, a little at variance.

It also seems that, so far from the Latins and Italians accepting the sound of the w in German names, they changed it into gu, and the name Wilhelm, for instance, becomes Guilelmus; Walter, Gualterus; which they certainly would never have done had the sound been represented by the v.

с

As to the qu, it would also seem probable that, in some cases at least, it had the sound of k or hard c, since we find in many words the c used for the qu, as in quotidie, cotidie; quum, cum; loquutus, locutus; quur, cur; and others. In the letters of Fronto and Marcus Aurelius, according to the palimpsest MS. discovered by Cardinal Mai, this peculiarity constantly appears, and even cur is spelled qur. How far this went it is impossible to determine, but it is even possible that, after all, the Italian, French, and Spanish chi and qui may represent in sound the Latin qui. This, at least, would seem to be indicated by the double pun of Cicero, who, being requested to give his vote for the son of a cook, answered, "Ego quoque tibi jure favebo," punning on the word quoque, as well as jure.

Time and space will only allow us to speak briefly of the letter 8, which, we are told in the syllabus, in the beginning and end of words, and at the beginning of syllables and before consonants, is always sharp (as the s in sin) in Italian, and should be so in Latin. This, certainly, is not always the case in Italian. It not uncommonly has the sound of z, as in deserto, which is pronounced dezerto, or misura, which is mezura.

But, more than even in the sound of the letters, it is to be feared that in accents our English pronunciation is entirely wrong. We almost always throw the accent backward instead of forward, and probably are as wrong in so doing as if we should pronounce French in like manner. Indeed, this is precisely the vice to which all English are prone in speaking French. Our ordinary accent of Latin words conveys no correct notion of their quantity. It is almost

impossible in our spoken Latin to distinguish a spondee from a trochee or an iambus, and it is only when we scan a verse that we accentuate the words according to their real quantity and rhythm. But, after all, is it possible that the Romans did not clearly express the rhythm of their verses in reading or declaiming them, or that the accent of words in verse was totally different in reading from what it was in speaking? Did not the poet follow the real accent and quantity of the word as spoken? Is it credible that in speaking they threw the accent backward, and said, for instance, Dulces moriens reminiscitur Argos, and in reading threw the accent forward and said, Dulcēs moriens Argōs? We have laid down elaborate rules and classifications to indicate the quantity of words, which when spoken ordinarily are totally different in quantity and accent; so that our pronunciation gives us no real clew to the quantity of any word, to enable us to distinguish a spondee from an iambus or a trochee. Is there any living language in which so extraordinary a peculiarity occurs? Is any nation forced to consult dictionaries, and encumber its memory with rules of prosody varying from those of common speech, in order to write verse in its own language? Yet this is precisely what we are forced to do in Latin, and this of itself would be sufficient to prove that our pronunciation is false.

(To be continued.)

VII.

SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW IN FINANCE.

THE citizens of the United States are of the opinion generally that a paper currency, in the form of United States notes ("greenbacks") or national-bank notes, is at once more economical and more convenient in use than the metals, whether gold or silver. Two questions remain which are open to serious dispute:

1. Shall the paper currency be redeemable in coin?

2. Whether so redeemable or not, shall it be exclusively of greenbacks, exclusively of national-bank notes, or a currency composed in part of each ?

The notion that a government may make a declaration upon a piece of paper, that the piece of paper on which the declaration is made is one dollar or one thousand dollars, the difference being a difference of typography alone, is a very modern notion, which one of its advocates attempts to dignify by calling it "the American system of finance." As a notion it is American, but as a system it has as yet no existence in this or in any other country. Experiments containing everything that is proposed by the advocates of this experiment, and something advantageous in addition thereto, have been tried, and in every instance they have failed.

The French notes called assignats asserted first their value respectively, and they were also made receivable for all public and private obligations and debts. The national domain was pledged for their redemption, the penalty of death was declared against counterfeiters, the nation promised to recompense informers, and art contributed an effigy of the goddess of justice holding the scales evenly balanced, and an effigy of the goddess of liberty announcing the rights of man. Yet, in spite of all these declarations, safeguards, and inducements, the French assignats became utterly worthless, and were stowed away in closets and garrets until the civil war in America, when the neglected accumulations were brought out and sold to the manufacturers of new paper. Every quality of

goodness which the genius of our American financial reformers has yet suggested may be found in the French assignats, with the promise of redemption added thereto; and yet they depreciated in purchasing power, and disappeared finally from the business channels of the country.

Again, the experiment was tried by the Southern Confederacy during the civil war. The notes of that government were endowed with every quality that is proposed for the currency to be issued under "the American system of finance," to all which was added a stipulation as to redemption-remote and contingent, to be sure, but not more harmful, it would seem, than a pledge perpetual of non-payment. In the end it could be said truthfully of that American system of finance, that a householder would carry his money to market in a basket, and take home his dinner in his waistcoat pocket.

Our own experience was the same in kind, though not so disastrous in the results. The greenback bore a declaration of its value, supported by the promise of the Government to pay the holder thereof, at a time future but not specified, a sum in gold or silver coin equal to the value declared. It was receivable by the Government for postage, for excise and direct taxes, and it was a legal tender for all private debts; and yet, in spite of its qualities and uses, and the obligations it carried with it, the greenback depreciated until it was worth in gold no more than thirty-five cents on the dollar.

The advocates of "the American system of finance" have one position only; and if that be indefensible, then their scheme is a failure altogether. It is this: A government, by its official and absolute decree, can give to that which has no appreciable value in itself a continuing, commercial purchasing power. The attempt to do this was made in fact, though not in form, by France, by the Southern Confederacy, and by the United States, and in each instance the undertaking was a failure. Further, it is to be said that the history of the world furnishes no evidence of the success of the experiment in any country or in any age. Is it urged that the failure in all these cases was due to circumstances? If so, then the power claimed for a government is not an absolute power, but only a capacity to do a certain thing when the circumstances are all favorable. There have been three trials by three different governments, under differing conditions, at times quite remote from each other, and each and every of the trials was a signal failure. Thus far all