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after the other, with the mouth. But these sounds or noises are not all alike. They are constantly changing; and if we observe closely, we shall see that this difference comes from the fact that they are made at different places in the mouth, or by putting the parts of the mouth—as the lips or tongue, for example-into different positions. Thus, when we say pie, the first thing we do is to bring the two lips close together, and press them against each other—and nobody can say this word with his mouth open. But if instead of this word we say thy, the lips are not brought together at all, but we begin by putting the point of the tongue just between the edges of of the upper and lower teeth.

From this example it is obvious, that the mouth is an instrument, or piece of musical machinery, for making sounds by different touches or applications of its parts, which are generally called organs of speech. We ought, then, to find out how many touches this instrument has, if it is our object to study the nature of all the music which it is capable of making-and, at any rate, to find the number which it actually uses in playing that particular tune which we call the English language. This we can do by attending carefully while we speak, for a short time, inasmuch as we are constantly repeating each of these touches.

The result will be found to be, that there are only three actual touches that we make with the two lips, producing the three sounds which are generally ropresented by the letters p, b and m, as at the beginning of pie, by and my; and that two others are made by putting the upper teeth upon the lower lip, usually represented by f and v, as in the beginning of the words fie and vie, and so on.

It will be seen that in each of the words used as examples, there is another sound besides the one made by the lips, and which follows it and completes the word. This last sound, which is the same as the word eye, is in some

of those words represented by ie, and in the others by y; and it differs from the first in the fact that it is not made by a perfect touch of the organs, but by merely putting them in a certain position and breathing through them with the voice. This sort of sounds is called vowels, while those made by the perfect touches are called con

sonants.

Now it appears by a thorough investigation, that in speaking the English language, we use no less than thirty six of these touches, and partial touches or shapings of the organs; in other words, we make that number of vowel and consonant sounds. The true idea of representing the language would then be, to have a letter in the alphabet for each of these sounds, and to use the same letter invariably for the same touch or shaping of the organs; and in that case spelling, or the right manner of making up a written word, would be as plain as the right manner of putting the Arabic figures together to represent any given number and besides this, the letters so put together would make known the precise pronunciation of each word. If this were the case, the whole business of teaching a child to read, spell and write, (except, in the last case, the manual business of making the letters,) would consist in pointing out the mechanism of the mouth, with its different touches and shapings, and the sounds made by, them, together with the letters that represent them. 'The whole of this, except the period necessary to learn the alphabet itself, would not require a week's time; whereas it now generally costs eight or ten years of more or less continuous labor in our schools, to learn these arts—and when learned, they are so imperfect that nobody can tell how to pronounce a word correctly by seeing it written. The reason of this imperfection is, that we have not enough letters in our alphabet to represent the sounds in our language, and that we do not always represent the same sound by the same letter-nor by any one letter, but fre

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quently use two, three or four letters for one sound. have not space for many examples; but the matter will be understood by reference to the case above, where precisely the same sound is represented by eye, ie and y, in different words, all of which must be learned arbitrarily, and a failure to know it is stigmatized as bad spelling. Again, for the first sound in the word thy-that is, the sound produced by the touch described above, as putting the tongue between the edges of the upper and lower teeth-there is no letter at all in our alphabet, and we use for it the two letters t and h. But these letters represent different touches or shapings of the organs, as will be felt if we pronounce tie and high, and observe that we have not brought the point of the tongue near the edges of the teeth; and so in a multitude of other cases, showing our language to be so badly represented, that it can hardly be said—if we may use a Hibernian expression-to be represented at all.

Phonotypy is simply a correction of all this irregularity, by adding a few new letters to the alphabet, rejecting two or three that are useless, (like the q, which always sounds like k) and then always using the same letter for the same sound. It may be learned in half an hour, by any person who can now read. But although it is so simple a change, its importance can hardly be estimated, as respects the cause of general education. Among its minor advantages, it saves about one fifth of the space and cost of all printed matter in books, newspapers, &c.

Phonography has a different alphabet, used only in writing by the pen, corresponding precisely to the phonotypic alphabet, but employing letters or characters so simple in their shapes that we need only move the hand once to make any one of them. Let the reader take up his pen and make the letter m or w, and he will find that he has moved his hand as many as six times in making either letter. Now, if each of these movements had made a

whole letter, he would have written a long word in the same length of time. By applying this principle, and adding the saving to what is gained in Phonotypy, the result is, that by Phonography a person may write almost six times as fast as by the old method-which is equal to the rapidity of ordinary speech. Phonographic writing, among those who understand it, is used for correspondence, and all the purposes, in fine, for which the old style of writing is used.

SUNSHINE AND SHADE.

BY JAMES T. FIELDS.

IN Glory's lighted halls

A thousand bright eyes shine;
Red banners flame the walls-
Red runs the noble wine.

Gay gallant men are there,
Plumed high in crimson hue→→
Crimson, the only wear

For joy like this to view.

But ah! from Glory's halls

Nor wine, nor waving plume

To yon low cottage walls

Are wafting sweet perfume!

Spread, Victory, wide your fame,
And all your flags unroll!
To Grief you offer but a name---
Blood-written on the soul!

A PICTURE OF THE PRAIRIE.

BY ALBERT PIKE.

THE world of Prairie which lies at a distance of more than three hundred miles west of the inhabited portions of the United States, and south of the river Arkansas and its branches, has been rarely, and parts of it never, trodden by the foot or beheld by the eye of an Anglo-American. Rivers rise there in the broad level waste, of which, mighty though they become in their course, the source is unexplored. Deserts are there, too barren of grass to support even the hardy buffalo-and in which water, except in here and there a hole, is never found. Ranged over by the Comanches, the Pawnees, the Caiwas, and other equally wandering, savage and hostile tribes, its very name is a mystery and a terror. The Pawnees have their villages entirely north of this part of the country; and the war parties-always on foot-are seldom to be met with to the south of the Canadian, except close in upon the edges of the white and civilized Indian settlements. Extending on the south to the Rio del Norte, on the north to a distance unknown, eastwardly to within three or four hundred miles of the edge of Arkansas Territory, and westwardly to the Rocky Mountains, is the range of the Comanches. Abundantly supplied with good horses from the immense herds of the Prairie, they range, at different times of the year, over the whole of this vast country. Their war and hunting parties follow the buffalo continually. In the winter they may be found in the south, encamped along the Rio del Norte, and under the mountains--and in the summer on the Canadian, and to the north of it, and on the Pecos. Sometimes they haunt the Canadian in the winter, but not so commonly as in the

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