Questions at Issue in Our English Speech

by Edwin W. Bowen

The pronouncing dictionary, therefore, is a modern production; it was hardly known before the first quarter of the eighteenth century. It is held by some scholars, notably Professor Lounsbury in his “Standard of Pronunciation in English,” that the pronouncing dictionary was called into existence by the desire on the part of the imperfectly educated middle class to know what to say and how to say it. This desire became stronger and stronger as the members of that growing class of England’s population rose by degrees into social prominence. Possessing little culture and few social advantages, and lacking confidence in their meager training, such people were not willing to exercise the right of private judgment, and consequently they sought out an authority and guide. They were eager to learn the modes of speech which obtained in the most highly cultured circles, the jus et norma loquendi of the nobility. It was natural therefore, since the occasion appeared to demand it, that self-appointed guides should come forward and offer to conduct the multitudes of social pariahs through the wilderness of orthoepical embarrassment into the Canaan of polite usage. Such was probably the origin of the pronouncing dictionary.

It will prove interesting to consider some of the pronunciations authorized by the early orthoepists as reflecting contemporary usage. How unlike current usage many of those early pronunciations are, the reader will see for himself. But first a word as to the orthoepists themselves.

The earliest of the eighteenth century orthoepists is Baily. His dictionary enjoyed the enviable distinction of being the first authority on English pronunciation during the first half of the eighteenth century. But Baily’s supremacy was eclipsed by Johnson, whose epoch-marking dictionary appeared in 1755. Johnson claimed to record the most approved method of English orthoepy, and his prestige as a man of letters contributed speedily to establish his dictionary as the ultimate authority on English pronunciation. It is to be observed, however, that Johnson only indicated the syllable on which the accent falls. This left much to be desired as a pronouncing dictionary. So, in 1766, Buchanan, a Scotchman, gave to the world his dictionary which challenged Johnson’s pre-eminence. A few years later, in 1780, to be accurate, Sheridan published his dictionary. Sheridan was an Irishman by birth, as has been said, the son of the famous British orator and dramatist, Richard Brinsley Sheridan, whose plays are so favorably known to us through Mr. Jefferson’s interpretation. Sheridan’s nationality was used by his competitors to prejudice the public against his dictionary and to discount it as an authority on English pronunciation. Still Sheridan enjoyed a considerable vogue.

In 1791 Walker published his dictionary. The reputation of this work, in a revised form, extended far into the last century, so we are informed by the late Mr. Ellis in his authoritative work on English pronunciation. Walker, like Sheridan, was an actor, but unlike his rival he was an Englishman by birth. He did not fail to draw attention to the advantage this circumstance would naturally give him in the popular estimation, in advertising the merits of his book. In his treatment of the principles of pronunciation, however, Walker shows a feeble grasp of his subject, and the most serious criticism upon his book is that he was unduly influenced by the spelling in ascertaining the pronunciation of a word. “In almost every part of his principles,” says Mr. Ellis, speaking of Walker’s work, “and in his remarks upon particular words throughout his dictionary, one will see the most evident marks of insufficient knowledge and of that kind of pedantic self-sufficiency which is the true growth of half-enlightened ignorance.” Such drastic criticism upon the author of a dictionary which was esteemed the highest authority on English pronunciation during the first half of the last century does not invite confidence in the results of our early orthoepists. Rather it makes us feel that none of them is perhaps entitled to credit. Probably Doctor Johnson shared this feeling when he exclaimed in the preface to his dictionary, Quis autem custodiet ipsos custodes?

So much for the lexicographers of the eighteenth century. Let us now consider some of the pronunciations authorized by them, which have long since been discarded. These will serve as illustrations to bring home to the mind of the reader the truth that our speech is slowly but surely and constantly changing, and that English pronunciation, unlike English spelling, has never been stereotyped in a fast, unvarying form. They will also show how indispensable an auxiliary to our crystallized, conventional spelling has the pronouncing dictionary become.

An interesting illustration is furnished by the word asparagus. The popular pronunciation of this word in the eighteenth century was sparrow-grass. This was felt by the orthoepists, however, to be a vulgar corruption of the word, and they therefore strove with concerted effort to stem the popular tide and to make the pronunciation conform to abstract propriety as indicated by the spelling. Walker, in commenting upon the pronunciation of the word, remarks, as if apologizing for the theoretically correct form which he recommends, that “the corruption of the word into sparrow-grass is so general that asparagus has an air of stiffness and pedantry.” Another word with a no less interesting history is cucumber. This word used to be generally pronounced cowcumber. The popular pronunciation of this word as well as of asparagus, once so universal, has survived even up to the present in the lingo of the illiterate whites of New England and in the Negro dialect. This vulgar pronunciation which was a thorn in the flesh to the eighteenth century lexicographers, it is instructive to note in passing, was not the result of mere caprice, but was warranted by an old variant spelling of the word. This historic spelling, long since discarded altogether by the users of English, was formerly very prevalent and in good literary usage. Hence little wonder that the vulgar pronunciation for a long time contested the supremacy with the mode of utterance now universally accepted. Even so high an authority as Mr. Pepys refers in his “Diary” to a certain man as “dead of eating cowcumbers.” It was not till wellnigh the middle of the last century that the orthoepists Knowles and Smart ventured to denounce cowcumber along with sparrow-grass as vulgar and therefore tabooed in polite circles.

It is a well-established fact in the history of English pronunciation that in the seventeenth century and far into the following century such words as spoil, toil, boil, and so on, were pronounced, even in best usage, precisely as they are uttered to-day in the Negro dialect and by the illiterate whites among us, that is, just as if they were written “spile,” “tile” and “bile.” This is conclusively proved by the rhymes of Dryden and Pope.[9] It is further evident from the rhymes of the poets of the latter half of the eighteenth century that this archaic pronunciation persisted almost down to the beginning of the last century. This pronunciation was regarded by the orthoepists as antiquated and vulgar, and they did not fail to denounce it in strong terms, warning against its use. In 1773 Kenrick records with mingled regret and disgust that it would appear affected to pronounce such words as boil, join and many others otherwise than as “bile” and “jine.” But toward the close of the eighteenth century the present pronunciation began to prevail and “the banished diphthong,” as Nares records with triumphant delight, “seemed at length to be upon its return.” This same orthoepist informs us, and we may well believe him, that it was the authority of the poets, who had pilloried the offensive pronunciation in their verse, that retarded the progress of the received sound of the diphthong which finally triumphed.

The early lexicographers were divided on the pronunciation of vase. Indeed, two centuries have not sufficed to unite their successors in perfect harmony on this question. The word to-day vacillates between four received pronunciations. The great unwashed pronounce vase to rhyme with base and case. Some pronounce the word as if written “vaz” with “the broad a.” Others, associating it with its French equivalent, pronounce the word “vauze.” Others still pronounce it so as to rhyme with amaze and gaze. Of these four pronunciations the first is the most prevalent to-day, as it also was two centuries ago. According to the Century Dictionary, the word was introduced into English during the latter half of the seventeenth century, and after the analogy of words of its class, it would naturally be pronounced so as to rhyme with case and base. But the recency of the word and its familiar association with art have given rise to the attempt to make it conform to the analogy of the French pronunciation and sound it as if written “vauze.” The early occasional spelling of the word as vause doubtless contributed somewhat to the extension of this latter pronunciation. This French pronunciation, says the Century, is now affected by many. It is worth while to remark, however, that while the Century recognizes the French pronunciation, it still gives the preference to the old historic pronunciation, viz., that rhyming with case and base.

Now, in the eighteenth century some of the orthoepists favored one pronunciation and some another. Sheridan, Scott, Kenrick, Perry and Buchanan declared for the pronunciation rhyming with case and base. On the other hand, Smith, Johnston and Walker expressed themselves in favor of “vaze.” Walker says that he has uniformly heard it so pronounced, but adds the significant remark that the word is pronounced according to the French fashion “sometimes by people of refinement; but this, being too refined for the general ear, is now but seldom heard,” This French pronunciation, however strange the comment may appear to us in view of his wide acquaintance with English usage, the late Mr. A. J. Ellis averred was the most familiar to him. So the struggle between the several pronunciations of vase continues still, and no one can say which will ultimately prevail.

Another interesting illustration of vacillation of usage two centuries ago is furnished in the pronunciation of either and neither. Like the word vase, these words show incidentally how long a time two pronunciations of the same word may linger in good usage before either supplants the other. There is to-day probably as much variation in the pronunciation of either and neither as there was a century and a half ago. Early in the eighteenth century the i sound was conceded by some of the orthoepists as permissible in these words. Two authorities, Buchanan and Johnston, declared for the new pronunciation, that is, “ither” and “nither.” But since they were both Scotchmen, their authority was discounted. On the other hand, Sheridan and Walker recommended the e sound and used their influence to bespeak for it general endorsement. They recognized the i sound, to be sure, but only on sufferance. From that day to the present the battle has waged more or less fiercely between the advocates of these respective pronunciations of either and neither. Which will ultimately prevail, it is impossible to determine. It may be said, however, that analogy and history are on the side of the e sound. Yet the i sound appears to be encroaching at present on the former pronunciation. There is still another pronunciation of these words which we now rarely hear. I refer to the old dialectical pronunciation as “ather” and “nather.” This pronunciation was current in Doctor Johnson’s time, though it probably did not enjoy the sanction of good usage. On being asked one day whether he regarded “ither,” or “ether” as the proper pronunciation of either, the old Doctor is said to have blurted out in his characteristic crabbed manner, “Nather, Sir!” This pronunciation survives now only as an Irishism.