Questions at Issue in Our English Speech

by Edwin W. Bowen

Another class of former pronunciations surviving now as an Irishism, or at best as a provincialism merely, is exemplified by such words as nature, creature and picture. In Dryden’s and Pope’s time these words were pronounced “nater,” “crater” and “picter.”[10] These pronunciations are preserved still in the Yankee dialect, as shown in Lowell’s inimitable Biglow Papers, and of course they are frequently heard on Irish lips. But they long ago dropped out of the speech of polite society. There is one notable exception found in the word figure. The variant pronunciation of this word as “figer” survives in standard English as a heritage from the seventeenth century.

Quite as instructive an illustration of survivals in pronunciation, is furnished by the British pronunciation of clerk and Derby. The English, as is well known, pronounce these words as if written “clark” and “Darby.” They used to pronounce clergy with the same vowel sound, and many other words besides. But it is a significant sign of the approaching change in British usage in respect to these words that a recent British dictionary, the New Historical, in commenting on clerk admits that the American pronunciation of this word has become somewhat frequent of late in London and its neighborhood. (Are we to look upon this as a result of the much-discussed American invasion?) But our British cousins are still wedded to their Derby (Darby) and show no sign of abandoning either the old pronunciation or the custom. Even we Americans cling tenaciously to serjeant and show but little inclination to make that conform speedily to the analogy of other words of its class and to pronounce it in accordance with the spelling. But, no doubt, this word, also, in the course of time, will yield to the pressure of analogy, and our time-honored serjeant, with the flight of years, is destined to be classed among those pronunciations that have lost caste. The early orthoepists uniformly pronounced this entire class of words as our British cousins pronounce them at the present time, that is, as if they were written “clark,” “sarjeant” and so on. Indeed, it is the spelling that has been the main factor in effecting the change in the pronunciation of these words. There is a strong tendency in English to pronounce a word as it is written, and this tendency has been asserting itself with ever increasing force since English spelling has been crystallized and thereby rendered less subject to preference or caprice.

A constantly recurring question, which never ceased to vex the spirit of the early orthoepists, was, where to place the accent in the case of contemplate, demonstrate, illustrate and similar words of classical origin. The question at issue here is whether the stress shall fall upon the antepenultimate or the penultimate. Even with all the accumulated knowledge of the centuries we are no nearer a solution of this perplexing question than were the Elizabethans. Shakespeare could say indifferently cónfiscate or confíscate, démonstrate or demónstrate. Here the battle has been waged between the scholars, on the one hand, who insist upon strict propriety, and the uninitiated, on the other, who follow the line of least resistance and by intuition place the accent upon the initial syllable. As is evident at a glance, these words come to us from the classics. The scholars therefore, somewhat pedantically, insist upon retaining the stress on the syllable which bore it in the original Latin or Greek. Per contra, the common people, who know “little Latin and less Greek” and care not a fig for the original accent, instinctively throw the stress upon the first syllable, in keeping with their feeling for their mother tongue. This feeling for the language, which the Germans call “Sprachgefühl,” is, after all, a safer guide than the rules laid down by the pedants. Candor compels us to admit that the popular tendency is more in harmony with the genius of our vernacular. But the scholars have made a brave fight for what we may demoniate abstract propriety, and the result, thus far, is a drawn battle. Each side has scored some points, and each side has had to make some concessions. Thus balcony, academy, decorous and metamorphosis, to cite a few concrete examples, have finally triumphed over the earlier pedantic pronunciations, which required the accent on the penult of these words. Horizon, on the other hand, stands as a monument of a concession to the learned, since this word in Elizabethan times had the stress on the initial syllable, as had also the name of the month July. Popular usage in favor of the received pronunciation of auditor, senator, victory, orator and many similar words has achieved a decided triumph over the early orthoepists, who, it was very obvious, were fighting a losing battle in their efforts to retain the classical accent.

It follows that pronunciation is the resultant product of several forces which are silently but constantly acting upon the living language. There are, to be sure, various methods of pronunciation, but the standard is that sanctioned by the most cultivated circles of society. Now, it is the function of the pronouncing dictionary, and its sole reason for existence, to determine and record the usage of the most cultured classes. But here is where the rub comes. This is the stumbling-block in the way of the lexicographers. It may seem, upon first blush, that the task of the orthoepist is easy enough. But not so in actual practice. Countless and insuperable difficulties soon begin to loom up a little ahead in the path of the intending orthoepist, and he finds, to his regret and his occasional disgust, that the way he has marked out for himself is not strewn with roses. It is an arduous undertaking which holds out but meager hope of successful accomplishment, to make an accurate record of the pronunciation received in any large class of society. The labor and trouble are multiplied many times when an attempt is made to determine the best orthoepical usage in a democracy. There is really no absolute standard of pronunciation in English and there can not be, from the very nature of the case, as Professor Lounsbury has clearly demonstrated in his recent luminous book on this subject.

Yet it is unquestionably true that the pronouncing dictionary is constantly making for uniformity of pronunciation. There is far less difference in English orthoepy at the beginning of the twentieth century, even despite the present diversity of good usage, than there was at the beginning of the eighteenth century. A glance at the history of the usage, if we may trust Professor Lounsbury, an eminent authority on English pronunciation, will readily convince the reader of this fact. This result is the direct outgrowth of the increased facilities for intercourse between communities, and of the gradual diffusion of education which the last two centuries have witnessed. With the spread of education there go along those habits of speech which are generally recognized to be in accord with best usage and which therefore have most to commend them to popular favor. But till men cease to exercise the right of choice in the mode of utterance, till men prefer, for the sake of uniformity, to say exclusively “hóstǐle” and not “hostĩle,” “sérvǐle” and not “servle,” “rise” and not “rice,” to mention an example of variant usage, so long will there probably be a diversity of pronunciation and the consequent need for the pronouncing dictionary. This consummation so devoutly to be wished we may expect at the Greek Kalends. We may rest assured, therefore, that the pronouncing dictionary is here to stay.

Every man has his preference as to his pronouncing dictionary, which he regards with more or less confidence and, may be, reverence, as his final authority. To this he resorts in all orthoepical questions, for final solution. This, of course, is a legitimate function of the pronouncing dictionary. The fact is, the vocabulary of the average educated man is so extremely limited and the vocabulary of the language so extremely copious that there are thousands of words of a technical character which even the most accomplished scholars have never once heard uttered. The average educated man who knows that English spelling is a very untrustworthy guide to pronunciation is perforce driven to consult his Webster, or his Worcester, or his Standard, or mayhap his Century. Only then can he pronounce an unfamiliar English word with any assurance of propriety.

Notwithstanding the fact that every educated man has his favorite dictionary, it is probably true that no man’s pronunciation is in entire accord with the dictionary he habitually follows. The late Mr. Ellis gave a suggestive test which I believe has never been successfully challenged. “I do not remember,” said he, “ever meeting with a person of general education, or even literary habits, who could read off, without hesitation, the whole of such a list of words as: bourgeois, demy, actinism, velleity, batman, beaufin, brevier, rowlock, fusil, flugleman, vase, tassel, buoy, oboe, archimandrite, etc., and give them in each case the same pronunciation as is assigned in any given pronouncing dictionary now in use.” Let the reader try these test words and see whether he pronounces this short list according to any received authority in use at the present day.

It may not prove an altogether unprofitable inquiry how our pronouncing dictionaries are made. Such an inquiry, if pursued, may teach us somewhat of the methods of the orthoepists to ascertain good usage. The method formerly adopted was very much after this fashion: The lexicographer studies in his own library the pronouncing dictionary of everybody who has taken the pains to compile one, whether he be an Englishman, an Irishman, a Scotchman, or an American. He compares these several dictionaries and records their variations. From these he selects those pronunciations which, for any special reason, commend themselves to his individual taste or judgment. These are usually such pronunciations as he is accustomed to hear or himself to use. These are published with the stamp of the lexicographer’s authority and approval, and the dictionary is sent out into the world as so-and-so’s record of the most approved usage.

This was doubtless the way pronouncing dictionaries used to be compiled. But we may believe that this method is not the course ordinarily followed by the authors of our best modern dictionaries. If our best standard dictionaries to-day were made in this fashion, their authority would richly deserve to be heavily discounted for such carelessness of method. But greater efforts are made by the most recent orthoepists, we may believe, to determine the accepted usage in polite society. Yet, after all, the personal equation enters as an important factor into the compilation of every pronouncing dictionary. The author or authors who compile the dictionary naturally follow their own preferences and prejudices in the matter of pronunciation; and their results, even at best, repose on very restricted and imperfect observation. An orthoepist ought not to be cocksure and dogmatic. Indeed, the proper attitude of the author of a dictionary is that of the late Mr. Ellis. It was quite natural that a man of his superior scholarship and rare orthoepical attainments should have been frequently asked as to the proper pronunciation of a particular word.

“It has not unfrequently happened,” observes Mr. Ellis in his monumental work on “Early English Pronunciation,” in reference to his practice, when appealed to as an authority, “It has not unfrequently happened that the present writer has been appealed to respecting the pronunciation of a word. He generally replies that he is accustomed to pronounce it in such or such a way, and has often to add that he has heard others pronounce it differently, but that he has no means of deciding which pronunciation ought to be adopted, or even of saying which is the more customary.”