10. +Monosyllables.+-- The stripping off of the inflexions of our language cut a large number of words down to the root. Hundreds, if not thousands, of our verbs were dissyllables, but, by the gradual loss of the ending +en+ (which was in Anglo-Saxon +an+), they became monosyllables. Thus +bindan+, +drincan+, +findan+, became +bind+, +drink+, +find+; and this happened with hosts of other verbs. Again, the expulsion of the guttural, which the Normans never could or would take to, had the effect of compressing many words of two syllables into one. Thus +haegel+, +twaegen+, and +faegen+, became +hail+, +twain+, and +fain+. --In these and other ways it has come to pass that the present English is to a very large extent of a monosyllabic character. So much is this the case, that whole books have been written for children in monosyllables. It must be confessed that the monosyllabic style is often dull, but it is always serious and homely. We can find in our translation of the Bible whole verses that are made up of words of only one syllable. Many of the most powerful passages in Shakespeare, too, are written in monosyllables. The same may be said of hundreds of our proverbs-- such as, “Cats hide their claws”; “Fair words please fools”; “He that has most time has none to lose.” Great poets, like Tennyson and Matthew Arnold, understand well the fine effect to be produced from the mingling of short and long words-- of the homely English with the more ornate Romance language. In the following verse from Matthew Arnold the words are all monosyllables, with the exception of _tired_ and _contention_ (which is Latin):-- “Let the long contention cease; Geese are swans, and swans are geese; Let them have it how they will, Thou art tired. Best be still!” In Tennyson’s “Lord of Burleigh,” when the sorrowful husband comes to look upon his dead wife, the verse runs almost entirely in monosyllables:-- “And he came to look upon her, And he looked at her, and said: ‘Bring the dress, and put it on her, That she wore when she was wed.’” An American writer has well indicated the force of the English monosyllable in the following sonnet:-- “Think not that strength lies in the big, _round_ word, Or that the _brief_ and _plain_ must needs be weak. To whom can this be true who once has heard The cry for help, the tongue that all men speak, When want, or fear, or woe, is in the throat, So that each word gasped out is like a shriek _Pressed_ from the sore heart, or a _strange_, wild _note_ Sung by some _fay_ or fiend! There is a strength, Which dies if stretched too far, or spun too fine, Which has more height than breadth, more depth than length; Let but this _force_ of thought and speech be mine, And he that will may take the sleek fat _phrase_, Which glows but burns not, though it beam and shine; Light, but no heat,-- a flash, but not a blaze.”