The grammatical term, too, is 'súpine'. Later introductions also have

this stress, as 'bóvine', 'cánine', 'équine'. The last word is not

always understood. At any rate Halliwell-Phillips, referring to a

well-known story of Shakespeare's youth, says that the poet probably

attended the theatre 'in some equine capacity'. As it is agreed that

'bovine' and 'equine' lengthen the former vowel, we ought by analogy

to say 'c[=a]nine', as probably most people do. Words of more than two

syllables have the stress on the antepenultima and the vowel is short,

as in 'libertine', 'adulterine', but of course '[=u]terine'. When

heavy consonants bring the stress on to the penultima, the _i_ is

shortened, as in 'clandest[)i]n(e)', 'intest[)i]n(e)', and so in like

disyllables, as 'doctr[)i]n(e)'. The modern words 'morphin(e)' and

'strychnin(e)', coined, the one from Morpheus and the other from the

Greek name of the plant known to botanists as _Withania somnifera_,

correctly follow 'doctrine' in shortening the _i_, though another

pronunciation is sometimes heard.

STEMS IN -TUDIN. These shorten the antepenultima, as 'plenitude',

'solitude', with the usual exceptions, such as 'fortitude'.

STEMS IN -TION. These words retain the suffix, which in early days

was disyllabic, as it sometimes is in Shakespeare, for instance in

Portia's

Before a friend of this descriptión

Shall lose a hair through Bassanio's fault.

Thus they came under the 'alias' rule, and what is now the penultimate

vowel is long unless it be _i_. Examples are 'nation', 'accretion',

'emotion', 'solution', while _i_ is shortened in 'petition',

'munition', and the like, and left short in 'admonition' and

others. In military use an exception is made by 'ration', but the

pronunciation is confined to one sense of the word, and is new at

that. I remember old soldiers of George III who spoke of 'r[=a]tions'.

Perhaps the ugly change is due to French influence.

Originally the adjectives from these words must have lengthened the

fourth vowel from the end long, as n[=a]t[)i][)o]nal, but when _ti_

became _sh_ they came to follow the rule of Latin trisyllables in our

pronunciation.

STEMS IN -IC. Of these words we have a good many, both Latin and

Greek. Those that came direct keep the stress on the vowel which was

antepenultimate and is in English penultimate, and this vowel is short

whatever its original quantity. Examples are 'aquatic', 'italic',

'Germanic'. Words that came through French threw the stress back, as

'lúnatic'. Skeat says that 'fanatic' came through French, but he can

hardly be right, for the pronunciation 'fánatic' is barely three score

years old. There is no inverted stress in Milton's

Fanátic Egypt and her priests.

As for 'unique' it is a modern borrowing from French, and of late

'ántique' or 'ántic', as Shakespeare has it, has followed in one of

its senses the French use. It is a pity in face of Milton's

With mask and ántique Pageantry,

and it obscures the etymological identity of 'antique' and 'antic',

but the old pronunciation is irredeemable. At least the new avoids the

homophonic inconvenience.

Greek words of this class used as adjectives mostly follow the

same rule, as 'sporadic', 'dynamic', 'pneumatic', 'esoteric',

'philanthropic', 'emetic', 'panegyric'. As nouns the earlier

introductions threw the stress back, as 'heretic', 'arithmetic',

but later words follow the adjectives, as 'emetic', 'enclitic',

'panegyric'. As for 'politic', which is stressed as we stress both by

Shakespeare and by Milton, it must be under French influence, though

Skeat seems to think that it came straight from Latin.

STEMS IN -OS. These words agree in being disyllabic, but otherwise

they are a tiresome and quarrelsome people. For their diversity in

spelling some can make a defence, since 'horror', 'pallor', 'stupor'

came straight from Latin, but 'tenor', coming through French, should

have joined hands with 'colour', 'honour', 'odour'. The short vowel is

inevitable in 'horror' and 'pallor', the long in 'ardour', 'stupor',

'tumour'. The rest are at war, 'clamour', 'colour', 'honour',

'dolour', 'rigour', 'squalor', 'tenor', 'vigour' in the short

legion, 'favour', 'labour', 'odour', 'vapour' in the long. Their

camp-followers ending in -ous are under their discipline, so that,

while 'cl[)a]morous', 'r[)i]gorous', 'v[)i]gorous' agree with

the general rule, '[=o]dorous' makes an exception to it. All

the derivatives of _favor_ are exceptions to the general rule,

for 'favourite' and 'favorable' keep its long _a_. Of course

'l[)a]b[=o]rious' is quite in order, and so is 'v[)a]pid'.

STEMS IN -TOR AND -SOR. These words, when they came through French,

threw the stress back and shortened the penultimate, _[=o]r[=a]torem_

becoming _orateur_, and then '[)o]r[)a]tor', with the stress on the

antepenultimate. Others of the same type are 'auditor', 'competitor',

'senator', and Shelley has

The sister-pest, congrégator of slaves,

while 'amateur' is borrowed whole from French and stresses its ultima.

Trisyllables of course shorten the first vowel, as 'cr[)e]ditor',

'j[)a]nitor'. Polysyllables follow the stress of the verbs; thus

'ágitate' gives 'ágitator' and 'compóse' gives 'compósitor'. To the

first class belongs 'circulator', 'educator', 'imitator', 'moderator',

'negotiator', 'prevaricator', with which 'gladiator' associates

itself; to the second belongs 'competitor'. Words which came straight

from Latin keep the stress of the Latin nominative, as 'creator',

'spectator', 'testator', 'coadjutor', 'assessor', to which in Walton's

honour must be added 'Piscator' and 'Venator'. On 'curator' he who

decides does so at his peril. On one occasion Eldon from the Bench

corrected Erskine for saying 'cúr[)a]tor'. 'Cur[=a]tor, Mr. Erskine,

cur[=a]tor.' 'I am glad', was the reply, 'to be set right by so

eminent a sen[=a]tor and so eloquent an or[=a]tor as your Lordship.'

Neither eminent lawyer knew much about it, but each was so far right

that he stuck to the custom of his country. On other grounds Erskine

might be thought to have committed himself to 'tést[)a]tor', if not

quite to the 'testy tricks' of Sally in Mrs. Gaskell's 'Ruth'.

STEMS IN -ERO AND -URO. Adjectives of this type keep the Latin stress,

which thus falls on the ultima, and shorten or obscure the penultimate

vowel, as 'mature', 'obscure', 'severe', 'sincere', but of course

'[=a]ustere'. Of like form though of other origin is 'secure'. Nouns

take an early stress, as 'áperture', 'sépulture', 'líterature',

'témperature', unless two mutes obstruct, as in 'conjécture'. Of the

disyllables 'nature' keeps a long penultima, while 'figure' has it

short, not because of the Latin quantity, but because of the French.

The lonely word 'mediocre' lengthens its first vowel by the 'alias'

rule and also stresses it. Whether the penultima has more than a

secondary stress is a matter of dispute.

STEMS IN -ARI. These words have the stress on the antepenultima,

which they shorten, as in 'secular' or keep short as in 'jocular',

'familiar', but of course 'pec[=u]liar'.

_ON CERTAIN GREEK WORDS._

It will have been seen that Greek words are usually treated as Latin.

Thus 'crisis' lengthens the penultima under the 'apex' rule, while

'critical' has it short under the general rule of polysyllables.

Other examples of lengthening are 'bathos', 'pathos', while the long

quantity is of course kept in 'colon' and 'crasis'. For the 'alias'

rule we may quote '[=a]theist', 'cryptog[=a]mia', 'h[=o]meopathy',

'heterog[=e]neous', 'pandem[=o]nium', while the normal shortenings

are found in 'an[)o]nymous', 'eph[)e]meral', 'pand[)e]monium',

'[)e]r[)e]mite'. Ignorance of English usage has made some editors

flounder on a line of Pope's:

Yes, or we must renounce the Stagirite.

The birthplace of Aristotle was of course Stag[=i]ra or, as it is now

fashionable to transcribe it, Stageira, as Pope doubtless knew, but

the editors who accuse him of a false quantity in Greek are on the

contrary themselves guilty of one in English. The penultima in English

is short whether it was long or, as in 'dynamite' and 'malachite',

short in Greek.

There is, however, one distinct class of Greek words in which the

Latin rule is not followed. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries

there were scholars who rightly or wrongly treated the Greek accent as

a mark of stress. It is clear that this habit led to an inability to

maintain a long quantity in an unstressed syllable. Shakespeare must

have learnt his little Greek from a scholar who had this habit, for he

writes 'Andrón[)i]cus' and also

I am misánthr[)o]pos and hate mankind.

Of course all scholars shortened the first vowel of the word, and

doubtless Shakespeare shortened also the third. Busby also thus

spoke Greek with the result that Dryden in later life sometimes

wrote epsilon instead of eta and also spoke of 'Cleoménes' and

'Iphig[=e]n[)i]a'. As a boy at Westminster he wrote

Learn'd, Vertuous, Pious, Great, and have by this

An universal Metempsuchosis.

Macaulay with an ignorance very unusual in him rebuked his nephew for

saying 'metamórph[)o]sis', and Dr. Johnson, had he been living, would

have rebuked Macaulay. For the sake of our poets we ought to save

'apothé[)o]sis', which is in some danger. Garth may perhaps be

forgotten,

Allots the prince of his celestial line

An Apotheosis and rights divine,

but 'Rejected Addresses' should still carry weight. In the burlesque

couplet, ascribed in the first edition to the younger Colman and

afterwards transferred to Theodore Hook, we have

That John and Mrs. Bull from ale and tea-houses

May shout huzza for Punch's apotheosis.

It need hardly be said that 'tea-houses' like 'grandfathers' has the

stress on the antepenultimate.

There are other words of Greek origin which now break the rules,

though I believe the infringement to be quite modern. First we have

the class beginning with _proto_. It can hardly be doubted that our

ancestors followed rule and said 'pr[)o]tocol', and 'pr[)o]totype',

and I suspect also 'pr[)o]tomartyr'. There seems, however, to be

a general agreement nowadays to keep the Greek omega. As for

'protagonist' the word is so technical and is often so ludicrously

misunderstood that writers on the Greek drama would do well to retain

the Greek termination and say 'protagonistes'; for 'protagonist' is

very commonly mistaken and used for the opposite of 'antagonist'.

Next come words beginning with _hypo_ or _hyph_. In a disyllable the

vowel is long by the 'apex' rule, as in 'hyphen'. In longer words

it should be short. So once it was, and we still say 'hypocaust',

'hypocrit', 'hypochondria' (whence 'hypped'), 'hypothesis', and

others, but a large group of technical and scientific words seems

determined to have a long _y_. It looks as though there were a belief

that _y_ is naturally long, though the French influence which gives us

't[=y]rant' does not extend to 'tyranny'. I do not know what Mr. Hardy

calls his poem, but I hope he follows the old use and calls it 'The

D[)y]nasts'. It might be thought that 'd[)y]nasty' was safe, but it

is not. Some modern words like 'dynamite' have been misused from their

birth.

Another class begins with _hydro-_ from the Greek word for water. None

of them seem to be very old, but probably 'hydraulic' began life with

a short _y_. Surely Mrs. Malaprop, when she meant 'hysterics' and said

'hydrostatics', must have used the short _y_. Of course 'hydra' which

comes from the same root follows the 'apex' rule.

Words beginning with _hyper-_ seem nowadays always to have a long _y_

except that one sometimes hears 'h[)y]perbole' and 'h[)y]perbolical'.

Of course both in _hypo-_ and in _hyper-_ the vowel is short in Greek,

so that here at least the strange lengthening cannot be ascribed to

the Grecians. The false theory of a long _y_ has not affected 'cynic'

or 'cynical', while 'Cyril' has been saved by being a Christian

name. We may yet hope to retain _y_ short in 'cylinder', 'cynosure',

'lycanthropy', 'mythology', 'pyramid', 'pyrotechnic', 'sycamore',

'synonym', 'typical'. As for 'h[=y]brid' it seems as much a caprice

as '[=a]crid', a pronunciation often heard. Though 'acrid' is a false

formation it ought to follow 'vivid' and 'florid'. The 'alias' rule

enforces a long _y_ in 'hygiene' and 'hygienic'.

On the matter of Greek names the lettern and the pulpit are grievous

offenders. Once it was not so. The clergymen of the old type and

the scholars of the Oxford Retrogression said T[)i]m[=o]th[)e][)u]s,

because they had a sense of English and followed, consciously or

unconsciously, the 'alias' rule. If there was ever an error, it was

on the lips of some illiterate literate who made three syllables of

the word. Now it seems fashionable to say T[=i]m[)o]th[)e][)u]s. The

literate was better than this, for he at least had no theory, and

frank ignorance is to be forgiven. It is no shame to a man not to know

that the second _i_ in 'Villiers' is as mute as that in 'Parliament'

or that Bolingbroke's name began with Bull and ended with brook, but

when ignorance constructs a theory it is quite another matter. The

etymological theory of pronunciation is intolerable. Etymology was

a charming nymph even when men had but a distant acquaintance with

her, and a nearer view adds to her graces; but when she is dragged

reluctant from her element she flops like a stranded mermaid. The

curate says 'Deuteronómy', and on his theory ought to say 'económy'

and 'etymológy'. When Robert Gomery--why not give the reverend

poetaster his real if less elegant name--published his once popular

work, every one called it 'The Omnípresence of the Deïty', and Shelley

had already written

And, as I look'd, the bright omnípresence

Of morning through the orient cavern flowed.

It is true that Ken a century earlier had committed himself to

Thou while below wert yet on high

By Omniprésent Deity,

and later Coleridge, perhaps characteristically, had sinned with

There is one Mind, one omniprésent Mind,

but neither the bishop nor the poet would have said 'omniscíence', or

'omnipótence'.

Another word to show signs of etymological corruption is

'[)e]volution'. It seems to have been introduced as a technical term

of the art of war, and of course, like 'd[)e]volution', shortened

the _e_. The biologists first borrowed it and later seem desirous of

corrupting it. Perhaps they think of such words as '[=e]gress', but

the long vowel is right in the stressed penultimate.

One natural tendency in English runs strongly against etymology.

This is the tendency to throw the stress back, which about a century

ago turned 'contémplate' into 'cóntemplate' and somewhat later

'illústrate' into 'íllustrate'. Shakespeare and Milton pronounced

'instinct' as we pronounce 'distinct' and 'aspect' as we pronounce

'respect'. Thus Belarius is made to say

'Tis wonder

That an invisible instínct should frame them

To royalty unlearn'd,

and Milton has

By this new felt attraction and instinct,

and also

In battailous aspéct and neerer view.

The retrogression of the stress is in these instances well

established, and we cannot quarrel with it; but against some very

recent instances a protest may be made. One seems to be a corruption

of the War. In 1884 the _N.E.D._ recognized no pronunciation of it

save 'allý', as in Romeo's

This gentleman, the prince's neer Alie.

The late Mr. B.B. Rogers in his translations of Aristophanes has of

course no other pronunciation. His verses are too good to be spoiled

by what began as a vulgarism. Another equally recent vulgarism, not

recognized by the _N.E.D._ and bad enough to make George Russell turn

in his grave, is 'mágazine' for 'magazíne'. It is not yet common, but

such vulgarisms are apt to climb.

In times not quite so recent the word 'prophecy' has changed, not

indeed its stress, but the quantity of its final vowel. When Alford

wrote 'The Queen's English', every one lengthened the last vowel, as

in the verb, nor do I remember any other pronunciation in my boyhood.

Now the _N.E.D._ gives the short vowel only. Alford to his own

satisfaction accounted for the long vowel by the diphthong _ei_ of

the Greek. It is to be feared that his explanation would involve

'dynast[=y]' and 'polic[=y]', even if it did not oblige us to turn

'Pompey' into 'Pomp[=y]'. In this case it may be suspected that

the noun was assimilated to the verb, which follows the analogy of

'magnify' and 'multiply'. The voice of the people which now gives

us 'prophec[)y]' seems here to have felt the power of analogy and

assuredly will prevail.

_ON PROPER NAMES._

It is to be hoped that except in reading Latin and Greek texts we

shall keep to the traditional pronunciation of proper names as it

is enshrined in our poetry and other literature. We must continue to

lengthen the stressed penultimate vowel in Athos, Cato, Draco, Eros,

Hebrus, Lichas, Nero, Otho, Plato, Pylos, Remus, Samos, Titus, Venus,

and the many other disyllables wherein it was short in the ancient

tongues. On the other hand we shall shorten the originally long

stressed antepenultimate vowel in Brasidas, Euripides, Icarus,

Lavinia, Lucilius, Lydia, Nicias, Onesimus, Pegasus, Pyramus, Regulus,

Romulus, Scipio, Sisyphus, Socrates, Thucydides, and many more.

Quin, and the actors of his day, used to give to the first vowel in

'Cato' the sound of the _a_ in 'father'. They probably thought that

they were Italianizing such names. In fact their use was neither Latin

nor English. They were like the men of to-day who speak of the town

opposite Dover as 'Cally', a name neither French nor English. A town

which once sent members to the English Parliament has a right to an

English name. Prior rhymed it with 'Alice' and Browning has

When Fortune's malice

Lost her Calais.

Shakespeare, of course, spelt it 'Callis', and this form, which was

first evicted by Pope, whom other editors servilely followed, ought

to be restored to Shakespeare's text. In the pronunciation of Cato the

stage regained the English diphthong in the mouth of Garrick, whose

good sense was often in evidence. It is recorded that his example

was not at once followed in Scotland or Ireland. If there was any

Highlander on the stage it may be hoped that he gave to the vowel the

true Latin sound as it appears in 'Mactavish'.

A once well-known schoolmaster, a correspondent of Conington's, had

a daughter born to him whom in his unregenerate days he christened

Rosa. At a later time he became a purist in quantities, and then he

shortened the _o_ and took the voice out of the _s_ and spoke of her

and to her as Rossa. The mother and the sisters refused to acknowledge

what they regarded as a touch of shamrock and clung persistently

to the English flower. The good gentleman did not call his son

Sol[=o]mon,[2] though this is the form which ought to be used by

those who turn the traditional English 'Elk[)a]nah' into 'Elk[=a]nah',

'Ab[)a]na' into 'Ab[=a]na', and 'Zeb[)u]lun' into 'Zeb[=u]lun'. If

they do not know

Poor Elk[)a]nah, all other troubles past,

For bread in Smithfield dragons hiss'd at last,

yet at least they ought to know

Of Abb[)a]na and Pharphar, lucid streams.

The malison of Milton on their heads! If the translators of the Bible

had foreseen 'Zeb[=u]lun', they would have chosen some other word than

'princes' to avoid the cacophony of 'the princes of Zeb[=u]lun'.

[Footnote 2: But pedantry would not suggest this. The New Testament

has [Greek: Solomôn], and the Latin Christian poets have the _o_ short.

True, the Vatican Septuagint has [Greek: Salômôn], but there the vowel

of the first syllable is _a_.--H.B.]

That these usages were familiar is evident from the pronunciation of

proper, especially Biblical, names. Thus 'B[=a]bel' and 'B[)a]bylon',

'N[=i]nus' and 'N[)i]neveh', were spoken as unconsciously as

M[=i]chael' and 'M[)i]chaelmas'. Nobody thought of asking the quantity

of the Hebrew vowels before he spoke of 'C[=a]leb' and 'B[=a]rak', of

'G[)i]deon' and 'G[)i]lead', of 'D[)e]borah' and 'Ab[)i]melech', of

'[=E]phraim' and 'B[=e]lial'. The seeming exceptions can be explained.

Thus the priest said 'H[)e]rod' because in the Vulgate he read

'H[)e]rodes', but there was no Greek or Latin form to make him say

anything else than 'M[=e]roz', 'P[=e]rez', 'S[=e]rah', 'T[=e]resh'.

He said '[)A]dam' because, although the Septuagint and other books

retained the bare form of the name, there were other writings in

which the name was extended by a Latin termination. There was no like

extension to tempt him to say anything but 'C[=a]desh', '[=E]dom',

'J[=a]don', 'N[=a]dab'. I must admit my inability to explain

'Th[)o]mas', but doubtless there is a reason. The abbreviated form was

of course first 'Th[)o]m' and then 'T[)o]m'. Possibly the pet name has

claimed dominion over the classical form. As in the _herba impia_

of the early botanists, these young shoots sometimes refuse to be

'trash'd for overtopping'.

A story is told of an eccentric Essex rector. He was reading in

church the fourth chapter of Judges, and after 'Now D[)e]borah, a

prophetess', suddenly stopped, not much to the astonishment of

the rustics, for they knew his ways. Then he went on 'Deb[)o]rah?

Deb[)o]rah? Deb[=o]rah! Now Deb[=o]rah, a prophetess', and so on.

Probably a freak of memory had reminded him that the letter was

omega in the Septuagint. It will be remembered that Miss Jenkyns in

_Cranford_ liked her sister to call her Deb[=o]rah, 'her father having

once said that the Hebrew name ought to be so pronounced', and it will

not be forgotten that the good rector was too sound a scholar to read

'Deb[=o]rah' at the lettern.

An anecdote of Burgon's is to the point. He had preached in St. Mary's

what he regarded as an epoch-making sermon, and afterwards he walked

home to Oriel with Hawkins, the famous Provost. He looked for comment

and hoped for praise, but the Provost's only remark was, 'Why do

you say Emm[=a]us?' 'I don't know; isn't it Emm[=a]us?' 'No, no;

Emm[)a]us, Emm[)a]us.' When Hawkins was young, in the days of George

III, every one said Emmaus, and in such matters he would say, 'I will

have no innovations in my time.' On the King's lips the phrase, as

referring to politics, was foolish, but Hawkins used it with sense.

PS.--I had meant to cite an anecdote of Johnson. As he walked in the

Strand, a man with a napkin in his hand and no hat stept out of a

tavern and said, 'Pray, Sir, is it irréparable or irrepáirable that

one should say?'--'The last, I think, Sir, for the adjective ought to

follow the verb; but you had better consult my dictionary than me,

for that was the result of more thought than you will now give me time

for.' The dictionary rightly gives _irréparable_, and both the rule

and example of the Doctor's _obiter dicta_ (literally _obiter_) are

wrong.

J.S.

MISCELLANEOUS NOTES AND CORRESPONDENCE

* * * * *

ADDENDA TO HOMOPHONES IN TRACT II

Several correspondents complain of the incompleteness of the list

of Homophones in Tract II. The object of that list was to convince

readers of the magnitude of the mischief, and the consequent

necessity for preserving niceties of pronunciation: evidence of its

incompleteness must strengthen its plea. The following words may be

added; they are set here in the order of the literary alphabet.

Add to Table I (p. 7)

band, [^1] _a tie_, [^2] _a company_.

bend, [^1] _verb_, [^2] _heraldic sub._

bay, [^1] _tree_, [^2] _arm of sea_, [^3] _window_,

[^4] _barking of dog_, and '_at bay_',

[^5] _a dam_, [^6] _of antler_, [^7] _a colour_.

blaze, [^1] _of flame_, [^2] _to sound forth_.

bluff, [^1] _adj. & sub. = broad = fronted_,

[^2] _blinker_, [^3] _sub. and v. confusing_ [^1] _and_ [^2].

boom, [^1] _to hum_, [^2] _= beam_.

cant, [^1] _whine_, [^2] _to tilt_.

chaff, [^1] _of wheat_, [^2] _= chafe (slang)_.

cove, [^1] _a recess_, [^2] _= chap (slang)_.

file, [^1] _string_, [^2] _rasp_, [^3] _= to defile_.

grave, [^1] _sub._, [^2] _adj._

hind, [^1] _fem. of stag_, [^2] _a peasant_, [^3] _adj. of behind_.

limb, [^1] _member_, [^2] _edge_, [^3] limn.

limber, [^1] _shaft of cart (verb in artillery)_,

[^2] _naut. subs._, [^3] _adj. pliant_.

loom, [^1] _subs._, [^2] _v._

nice, gneiss.

ounce, [^1] _animal_, [^2] _a weight_.

plash, [^1] _= pleach_, [^2] _a puddle_.

port, [^1] _demeanour, & military v._,

[^2] _haven_, [^3] _gate & naut.= port-hole_,

[^4] _= larboard_, [^5] _a wine_.

shingle, [^1] _a wooden tile_, [^2] _gravel_,

[^3] (_in pl._) _a disease_.

shrub, [^1] _a bush_, [^2] _a drink_.

smack, [^1] _a sounding blow_, [^2] _a fishing boat_, [^3] _taste_.

throw, throe.

Also note that _so_ should be added to _sew, sow_, and that the words

_leech_, _leach_, are not sufficiently credited with etymological

variety: [see below p. 33].

To Table II add

when, _wen_.

To Table VIII

The following words, the absence of which has been noted, are not true

homophones:--

crack

fool

fume

gentle

interest

palm

stem

trip

To Table IX add

must [^1] _obs? new wine_, [^2] _verb._

The Pronunciation of English Words Derived from the Latin Society for Pure English Tract 4 · 第 2 / 4 段