At no time was progress in the making of general dictionaries so rapid as during the second half of the 19th century. It is to be seen in three things: in the perfecting of the theory of what a general dictionary should be; in the elaboration Methods. of methods of collecting and editing lexicographic materials; and in the magnitude and improved quality of the work which has been accomplished or planned. Each of these can best be illustrated from English lexicography, in which the process of development has in all directions been carried farthest. The advance that has been made in theory began with a radical change of opinion with regard to the chief end of the general dictionary of a language. The older view of the matter was that the lexicographer should furnish a standard of usage—should register only those words which are, or at some period of the language have been, “good” from a literary point of view, with their “proper” senses and uses, or should at least furnish the means of determining what these are. In other words, his chief duty was conceived to be to sift and refine, to decide authoritatively questions with regard to good usage, and thus to fix the language as completely as might be possible within the limits determined by the literary taste of his time. Thus the Accademia della Crusca, founded near the close of the 16th century, was established for the purpose of purifying in this way the Italian tongue, and in 1612 the Vocabolario degli Accademici della Crusca, long the standard of that language, was published. The Académie Française, the first edition of whose dictionary appeared in 1694, had a similar origin. In England the idea of constructing a dictionary upon this principle arose during the second quarter of the 18th century. It was imagined by men of letters—among them Alexander Pope—that the English language had then attained such perfection that further improvement was hardly possible, and it was feared that if it were not fixed by lexicographic authority deterioration would soon begin. Since there was no English “Academy,” it was necessary that the task should fall to some one whose judgment would command respect, and the man who undertook it was Samuel Johnson. His dictionary, the first edition of which, in two folio volumes, appeared in 1755, was in many respects admirable, but it was inadequate even as a standard of the then existing literary usage. Johnson himself did not long entertain the belief that the natural development of a language can be arrested in that or in any other way. His work was, however, generally accepted as a final authority, and the ideas upon which it was founded dominated English lexicography for more than a century. The first effective protest in England against the supremacy of this literary view was made by Dean (later Archbishop) Trench, in a paper on “Some Deficiencies in Existing English Dictionaries” read before the Philological Society in 1857. “A dictionary,” he said, “according to that idea of it which seems to me alone capable of being logically maintained, is an inventory of the language; much more, but this primarily.... It is no task of the maker of it to select the good words of the language.... The business which he has undertaken is to collect and arrange all words, whether good or bad, whether they commend themselves to his judgment or otherwise.... He is an historian of [the language], not a critic.” That is, for the literary view of the chief end of the general dictionary should be substituted the philological or scientific. In Germany this substitution had already been effected by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm in their dictionary of the German language, the first volume of which appeared in 1854. In brief, then, the modern view is that the general dictionary of a language should be a record of all the words—current or obsolete—of that language, with all their meanings and uses, but should not attempt to be, except secondarily or indirectly, a guide to “good” usage. A “standard” dictionary has, in fact, been recognized to be an impossibility, if not an absurdity.
This theoretical requirement must, of course, be modified considerably in practice. The date at which a modern language is to be regarded by the lexicographer as “beginning” must, as a rule, be somewhat arbitrarily chosen; while considerable portions of its earlier vocabulary cannot be recovered because of the incompleteness of the literary record. Moreover, not even the most complete dictionary can include all the words which the records—earlier and later—actually contain. Many words, that is to say, which are found in the literature of a language cannot be regarded as, for lexicographic purposes, belonging to that language; while many more may or may not be held to belong to it, according to the judgment—almost the whim—of the individual lexicographer. This is especially true of the English tongue. “That vast aggregate of words and phrases which constitutes the vocabulary of English-speaking men presents, to the mind that endeavours to grasp it as a definite whole, the aspect of one of those nebulous masses familiar to the astronomer, in which a clear and unmistakable nucleus shades off on all sides, through zones of decreasing brightness, to a dim marginal film that seems to end nowhere, but to lose itself imperceptibly in the surrounding darkness” (Dr J. A. H. Murray, Oxford Dict. General Explanations, p. xvii). This “marginal film” of words with more or less doubtful claims to recognition includes thousands of the terms of the natural sciences (the New-Latin classificatory names of zoology and botany, names of chemical compounds and of minerals, and the like); half-naturalized foreign words; dialectal words; slang terms; trade names (many of which have passed or are passing into common use); proper names and many more. Many of these even the most complete dictionary should exclude; others it should include; but where the line shall be drawn will always remain a vexed question.
Another important principle upon which Trench insisted, and which also expresses a requirement of modern scientific philology, is that the dictionary shall be not merely a record, but also an historical record of words and their uses. From the literary point of view the most important thing is present usage. To that alone the idea of a “standard” has any application. Dictionaries of the older type, therefore, usually make the common, or “proper” or “root” meaning of a word the starting point of its definition, and arrange its other senses in a logical or accidental order commonly ignoring the historical order in which the various meanings arose. Still less do they attempt to give data from which the vocabulary of the language at any previous period may be determined. The philologist, however, for whom the growth, or progressive alteration, of a language is a fact of central importance, regards no record of a language as complete which does not exhibit this growth in its successive stages. He desires to know when and where each word, and each form and sense of it, are first found in the language; if the word or sense is obsolete, when it died; and any other fact that throws light upon its history. He requires, accordingly, of the lexicographer that, having ascertained these data, he shall make them the foundation of his exposition—in particular, of the division and arrangement of his definitions, that sense being placed first which appeared first in order of time. In other words, each article in the dictionary should furnish an orderly biography of the word of which it treats, each word and sense being so dated that the exact time of its appearance and the duration of its use may as nearly as possible be determined. This, in principle, is the method of the new lexicography. In practice it is subject to limitations similar to those of the vocabulary mentioned above. Incompleteness of the early record is here an even greater obstacle; and there are many words whose history is, for one reason or another, so unimportant that to treat it elaborately would be a waste of labour and space.
The adoption of the historical principle involves a further noteworthy modification of older methods, namely, an important extension of the use of quotations. To Dr Johnson belongs the credit of showing how useful, when properly chosen, they may be, not only in corroborating the lexicographer’s statements, but also in revealing special shades of meaning or variations of use which his definitions cannot well express. No part of Johnson’s work is more valuable than this. This idea was more fully developed and applied by Dr Charles Richardson, whose New Dictionary of the English Language ... Illustrated by Quotations from the Best Authors (1835-1836) still remains a most valuable collection of literary illustrations. Lexicographers, however, have, with few exceptions, until a recent date, employed quotations chiefly for the ends just mentioned—as instances of use or as illustrations of correct usage—with scarcely any recognition of their value as historical evidence; and they have taken them almost exclusively from the works of the “best” authors. But since all the data upon which conclusions with regard to the history of a word can be based must be collected from the literature of the language, it is evident that, in so far as the lexicographer is required to furnish evidence for an historical inference, a quotation is the best form in which he can give it. In fact, extracts, properly selected and grouped, are generally sufficient to show the entire meaning and biography of a word without the aid of elaborate definitions. The latter simply save the reader the trouble of drawing the proper conclusions for himself. A further rule of the new lexicography, accordingly, is that quotations should be used, primarily, as historical evidence, and that the history of words and meanings should be exhibited by means of them. The earliest instance of use that can be found, and (if the word or sense is obsolete) the latest, are as a rule to be given; while in the case of an important word or sense, instances taken from successive periods of its currency also should be cited. Moreover, a quotation which contains an important bit of historical evidence must be used, whether its source is “good,” from the literary point of view, or not—whether it is a classic of the language or from a daily newspaper; though where choice is possible, preference should, of course, be given to quotations extracted from the works of the best writers. This rule does not do away with the illustrative use of quotations, which is still recognized as highly important, but it subordinates it to their historical use. It is necessary to add that it implies that the extracts must be given exactly, and in the original spelling and capitalization, accurately dated, and furnished with a precise reference to author, book, volume, page and edition; for insistence upon these requirements—which are obviously important, whatever the use of the quotation may be—is one of the most noteworthy of modern innovations. Johnson usually gave simply the author’s name, and often quoted from memory and inaccurately; and many of his successors to this day have followed—altogether or to some extent—his example.
The chief difficulty in the way of this use of quotations—after the difficulty of collection—is that of finding space for them in a dictionary of reasonable size. Preference must be given to those which are essential, the number of those which are cited merely on methodical grounds being made as small as possible. It is hardly necessary to add that the negative evidence furnished by quotations is generally of little value; one can seldom, that is, be certain that the lexicographer has actually found the earliest or the latest use, or that the word or sense has not been current during some intermediate period from which he has no quotations.
Lastly, a much more important place in the scheme of the ideal dictionary is now assigned to the etymology of words. This may be attributed, in part, to the recent rapid development of etymology as a science, and to the greater abundance of trustworthy data; but it is chiefly due to the fact that from the historical point of view the connexion between that section of the biography of a word which lies within the language—subsequent, that is, to the time when the language may, for lexicographical purposes, be assumed to have begun, or to the time when the word was adopted or invented—and its antecedent history has become more vital and interesting. Etymology, in other words, is essentially the history of the form of a word up to the time when it became a part of the language, and is, in a measure, an extension of the history of the development of the word in the language. Moreover, it is the only means by which the exact relations of allied words can be ascertained, and the separation of words of the same form but of diverse origin (homonyms) can be effected, and is thus, for the dictionary, the foundation of all family history and correct genealogy. In fact, the attention that has been paid to these two points in the best recent lexicography is one of its distinguishing and most important characteristics. Related to the etymology of words are the changes in their form which may have occurred while they have been in use as parts of the language—modifications of their pronunciation, corruptions by popular etymology or false associations, and the like. The facts with regard to these things which the wide research necessitated by the historical method furnishes abundantly to the modern lexicographer are often among the most novel and interesting of his acquisitions.
It should be added that even approximate conformity to the theoretical requirements of modern lexicography as above outlined is possible only under conditions similar to those under which the Oxford New English Dictionary was undertaken (see below). The labour demanded is too vast, and the necessary bulk of the dictionary too great. When, however, a language is recorded in one such dictionary, those of smaller size and more modest pretensions can rest upon it as an authority and conform to it as a model so far as their special limitations permit.
The ideal thus developed is primarily that of the general dictionary of the purely philological type, but it applies also to the encyclopaedic dictionary. In so far as the latter is strictly lexicographic—deals with words as words, and not with the things they denote—it should be made after the model of the former, and is defective to the extent in which it deviates from it. The addition of encyclopaedic matter to the philological in no way affects the general principles involved. It may, however, for practical reasons, modify their application in various ways. For example, the number of obsolete and dialectal words included may be much diminished and the number of scientific terms (for instance, new Latin botanical and zoological names) be increased; and the relative amount of space devoted to etymologies and quotations may be lessened. In general, since books of this kind are designed to serve more or less as works of general reference, the making of them must be governed by considerations of practical utility which the compilers of a purely philological dictionary are not obliged to regard. The encyclopaedic type itself, although it has often been criticized as hybrid—as a mixture of two things which should be kept distinct—is entirely defensible. Between the dictionary and the encyclopaedia the dividing line cannot sharply be drawn. There are words the meaning of which cannot be explained fully without some description of things, and, on the other hand, the description of things and processes often involves the definition of names. To the combination of the two objection cannot justly be made, so long as it is effected in a way—with a selection of material—that leaves the dictionary essentially a dictionary and not an encyclopaedia. Moreover, the large vocabulary of the general dictionary makes it possible to present certain kinds of encyclopaedic matter with a degree of fulness and a convenience of arrangement which are possible in no single work of any other class. In fact, it may be said that if the encyclopaedic dictionary did not exist it would have to be invented; that its justification is its indispensableness. Not the least of its advantages is that it makes legitimate the use of diagrams and pictorial illustrations, which, if properly selected and executed, are often valuable aids to definition.
On its practical side the advance in lexicography has consisted in the elaboration of methods long in use rather than in the invention of new ones. The only way to collect the data upon which the vocabulary, the definitions and the history are to be based is, of course, to search for them in the written monuments of the language, as all lexicographers who have not merely borrowed from their predecessors have done. But the wider scope and special aims of the new lexicography demand that the investigation shall be vastly more comprehensive, systematic and precise. It is necessary, in brief, that, as far as may be possible, the literature (of all kinds) of every period of the language shall be examined systematically, in order that all the words, and senses and forms of words, which have existed during any period may be found, and that enough excerpts (carefully verified, credited and dated) to cover all the essential facts shall be made. The books, pamphlets, journals, newspapers, and so on which must thus be searched will be numbered by thousands, and the quotations selected may (as in the case of the Oxford New English Dictionary) be counted by millions. This task is beyond the powers of any one man, even though he be a Johnson, or a Littré or a Grimm, and it is now assigned to a corps of readers whose number is limited only by the ability of the editor to obtain such assistance. The modern method of editing the material thus accumulated—the actual work of compilation—also is characterized by the application of the principle of the division of labour. Johnson boasted that his dictionary was written with but little assistance from the learned, and the same was in large measure true of that of Littré. Such attempts on the part of one man to write practically the whole of a general dictionary are no longer possible, not merely because of the vast labour and philological research necessitated by modern aims, but more especially because the immense development of the vocabulary of the special sciences renders indispensable the assistance, in the work of definition, of persons who are expert in those sciences. The tendency, accordingly, has been to enlarge greatly the editorial staff of the dictionary, scores of sub-editors and contributors being now employed where a dozen or fewer were formerly deemed sufficient. In other words, the making of a “complete” dictionary has become a co-operative enterprise, to the success of which workers in all the fields of literature and science contribute.
The most complete exemplification of these principles and methods is the Oxford New English Dictionary, on historical principles, founded mainly on materials collected by the Philological Society. This monumental work originated in the suggestion of Trench that an attempt should be made, under the direction of the Philological Society, to complete the vocabulary of existing dictionaries and to supply the historical information which they lacked. The suggestion was adopted, considerable material was collected, and Mr Herbert Coleridge was appointed general editor. He died in 1861, and was succeeded by Dr F. J. Furnivall. Little, however, was done, beyond the collection of quotations—about 2,000,000 of which were gathered—until in 1878 the expense of printing and publishing the proposed dictionary was assumed by the Delegates of the University Press, and the editorship was entrusted to Dr (afterwards Sir) J. A. H. Murray. As the historical point of beginning, the middle of the 12th century was selected, all words that were obsolete at that date being excluded, though the history of words that were current both before and after that date is given in its entirety; and it was decided that the search for quotations—which, according to the original design, was to cover the entire literature down to the beginning of the 16th century and as much of the subsequent literature (especially the works of the more important writers and works on special subjects) as might be possible—should be made more thorough. More than 800 readers, in all parts of the world, offered their aid; and when the preface to the first volume appeared in 1888, the editor was able to announce that the readers had increased to 1300, and that 3,500,000 of quotations, taken from the writings of more than 5000 authors, had already been amassed. The whole work was planned to be completed in ten large volumes, each issued first in smaller parts. The first part was issued in 1884, and by the beginning of 1910 the first part of the letter S had been reached.