more marked and interesting than in the varying practise of spelling
on both sides of the Atlantic. Let us note some of the chief points of
variation.
Our British cousins assume an exasperating air of superiority when they
mention the matter of our spelling and, as self-appointed conservators
of the language, point out what they are pleased to style the offensive
eccentricities of American spelling. The British journals ever and anon
draw attention to our manner of writing such words as _favor_, _honor_,
_center_, _program_, _almanac_, _tire_, _curb_, _check_ and _criticize_
and the like, which they spell _favour_, _honour_, _centre_,
_programme_, _almanack_, _tyre_, _kerb_, _cheque_ and _criticise_.
Now, in the case of most of these words, we submit that the American
spelling is nearer the historical spelling, simpler and more logical
than the British method. As for the words typified by _honor_, our
method is simpler and nearer to the ultimate etymology. These words,
it hardly need be observed, are borrowed from the Latin through the
French. The British maintain that for this reason the spelling ought
to conform to the French fashion. But they overlook the fact that
these words have not always been written in English according to the
French manner of writing. Dr. Johnson, the eminent lexicographer of the
eighteenth century, wrote _honor_ beside _honour_, _neighbor_ beside
_neighbour_, _harbor_ beside _harbour_ and the like. Indeed, the great
Cham allowed himself considerable latitude in the matter of English
orthography. Moreover, the Norman-French forms of these words were
written in a variety of ways, as _our_, _eur_, _ur_, and also _or_.
Even on the historical ground, therefore, there is not lacking some
authority for the American spelling. If the English were consistent,
they would be forced by the logic of their argument to write uniformly
_governour_, _errour_, _emperour_, _oratour_, _horrour_ and _dolour_ as
well as _honour_ and _favour_. But practise shows their glaring lack
of consistency, since they do not spell these words ordinarily with
_u_. It ought not to be regarded as a reproach upon American spelling,
because in our desire for simplicity and uniformity we have rejected
the _u_ in this entire class of words like _honor_, thus making the
spelling more in keeping with the Latin derivation. We can at least lay
claim to simplicity and consistency. If we are provincial, we can not
be charged with arbitrariness in our spelling.
As for the writing of _center_, _meter_, _meager_ and words of this
kind, the American method has as much history and logic in its favor
as the British spelling has. Analogy, too, if that may be cited as
an argument, supports our spelling, for we all write _perimeter_,
_diameter_, never otherwise, whether we be American or English. The
word _center_, according to Lowell, who was no mean authority on
matters pertaining to our speech, “is no Americanism; it entered the
language in that shape and kept it at least as late as Defoe.” “In the
sixteenth and in the first half of the seventeenth century,” declares
Professor Lounsbury, in reference to the spelling of _center_ and
similar words, “while both ways of writing these words existed side
by side, the termination _er_ is far more common than _re_. The first
complete edition of Shakespeare’s plays was published in 1624. In that
work _sepulcher_ occurs thirteen times; it is spelled eleven times
with _er_. _Scepter_ occurs thirty-seven times; it is not once spelled
with _re_, but always with _er_. _Center_ occurs twelve times, and in
nine instances out of the twelve it ends in _er_.” John Bellows, in
the preface to his excellent French-English and English-French pocket
dictionary, states that “the Act of Parliament legalizing the use of
the metric system in this country [England] gives the words meter,
liter, gram, etc., spelt on the American plan.” It is evident, then,
that our way of writing these words is quite as logical and as much
warranted by the history of our tongue as the British spelling.
The American orthography is clearly in advance of the British in the
word _almanac_. This word is not rightly entitled to the final _k_, as
the English spell it. This superfluous letter is a mere survival from
a former way of writing, no longer in vogue. It has been rejected in
_music_, _public_, _optic_ and similar words which are written alike
on both sides of the Atlantic. In Johnson’s dictionary and also in
our King James’s version of the Scriptures the old spelling generally
occurs. Indeed, Johnson appended the excrescent _k_ to well-nigh
all words of this class. Strange to say, there is one word of this
class which preserves the _k_ even in American English, and that is
_hammock_. This is but an exception which goes to prove that even
American English with its revised orthography is still far from being
phonetic.
In regard to words ending in _ize_, usage in Great Britain has
established the writing _ise_, as in _civilise_. However, new
formations even there are usually made to terminate in _ize_, which is
generally adopted in America. Yet American spelling sometimes exhibits
_ise_, after the English fashion. The British writing is derived
from the French, whereas the American harks back to the original
Greek suffix. The British spelling of _tyre_, _kerb_, _programme_ and
_cheque_ perhaps has as much to commend it as the American _tire_,
_curb_, _program_ and _check_. Usage in America varies in the case of
_program_, the more conservative still clinging to _programme_. _Tyre_
and _kerb_ are but little employed here. These words are merely variant
forms which British usage has adopted. The spelling _cheque_, in
general use in Great Britain for our bank check, has resulted through
the influence of the word _exchequer_ with which it is connected.
The usual American spelling of _wagon_ is held up to public obloquy by
British journalists, who regard _waggon_ as the orthodox orthography.
Skeat, who gives both forms in his etymological dictionary, asserts
that the doubling of the _g_ is simply a device to show that the
preceding vowel is short. In the early history of the language when the
etymological spelling was in vogue, pedants had recourse to this method
of changing the form of a word to make it phonetic, as they claimed.
In point of fact, by their practise they made the language far less
phonetic. Spenser and other early English authors write the word after
the American fashion. Horace Greeley once made a departure from our
American usage and wrote _waggon_, saying by way of apology, when his
attention was called to it, that “they used to build wagons heavier in
the good old times when he learned to spell.”
It is not to be supposed for a moment, however, that our utilitarian
disregard of tradition is so strong as to have eliminated all useless
letters in our American spelling. There is many a word in which an
epenthetic letter is still retained merely because the traditional
spelling shows it. _Sovereign_, _comptroller_, _island_ and _rhyme_ may
be cited as examples in point. Perhaps it ought to be added that the
emended spelling _rime_ for _rhyme_ appears to be meeting with favor in
certain philological circles.
There is one class of words which does not exhibit a uniform method
of writing, either in Great Britain or in America. This class is
typified by the words _traveler_, _counselor_, _worshiper_ and the
like. It will be readily seen that these words are all derivatives,
formed from the primary by the addition of a suffix; and the writing
vacillates between a single and a double consonant preceding the
suffix. According to the well-known principle of English orthography,
these words are not entitled to a double consonant, and therefore
should never be written _traveller_, _counsellor_ and _worshipper_. The
rule is, if the final syllable of a word ending in a single consonant
and preceded by a short vowel is accented, the final consonant, on
the addition of a suffix beginning with a vowel, is doubled; but
never otherwise. Thus we write _offered_, _deviled_ and the like, but
_referred_, _transferred_ and _jammed_. Hence the orthodox spelling
should be _traveler_, _counselor_, _worshiper_, _unrivaled_ and the
like. But practise shows that either spelling is regarded as correct
on both sides of the Atlantic. These words are survivals from a former
period in the history of the language when more latitude was allowed
in English orthography and there was no hard and fast line drawn, no
fixed standard. The proper historical spelling, it is interesting to
note, is with one consonant, as in _counselor_ derived ultimately from
the Latin _consilarius_. While either spelling is considered correct,
British usage favors the double consonant (_counsellor_) and American
the single (_counselor_). Here again as elsewhere American spelling
inclines to simplification and would make these words conform to the
general rule of English orthography as laid down above. Strange to say,
British usage shows one exception in the word _paralleled_, which it
has adopted (and not _parallelled_). Here we find another instance of
the striking inconsistency of British orthography. It may be a shocking
thing to say, but investigation will prove it true, that if those
British critics who censure our spelling so severely, as offending
their esthetic sense, were more familiar with the history of the
language, they would, without doubt, have far less comment to make upon
the so-called eccentricities of American spelling.
It remains to notice some apparent exceptions to the rule of English
orthography stated above. Noteworthy among these are the words
_handicapped_ and _kidnapped_, which are written alike in British and
American English. But they can be explained and are only apparent
exceptions. A moment’s reflection is sufficient to convince one that
_handicap_ and _kidnap_ are not simple words, but in reality compounds
in which the last element has not completely lost its identity in
combination. Because of the consciousness of the independent words
_cap_ and _nap_ in these compounds, they conform to the rule as a
matter of fact and therefore double the final consonant, on the
addition of a suffix beginning with a vowel. Hence, if they are
exceptions, they must be considered exceptions which prove the rule.
The few points we have drawn attention to in this imperfect little
sketch are enough to show how unphonetic and illogical is our English
spelling. Many of the eccentricities of our orthography, according
to Skeat, have resulted from the futile attempts of pedants in the
sixteenth century to make English spelling etymological and to make it
conform to the classics, from which a vast multitude of words had been
introduced into our speech. These conscious attempts at etymological
spelling gave rise to endless confusion and disorder. But other causes,
such as analogy and mere caprice, also contributed to this end. Thus
we are to explain the writing of the word _female_, for example. This
word, coming from the Latin _femella_ through the French _femelle_
into English, was originally written _femelle_ and would probably
have retained this form to the present time. But because of a fancied
connection with the word _male_, the spelling was changed to _female_.
In a similar manner is to be explained the spelling of numerous other
words in our language which seem perfectly natural and logical on first
blush.
AUTHORITY IN ENGLISH PRONUNCIATION.
For wellnigh two centuries a popular belief has prevailed throughout
the English-speaking world that there should be a standard of
pronunciation, which should be followed in all those countries where
English is the native tongue. Many people, holding this view, assume
that some such norm is unconsciously observed by men of education
and culture, who, because of their influence and rank, are generally
conceded the right to establish the customs of speech. It is but
natural, therefore, that men with greater or less claim to culture
and education should take it upon themselves from time to time to
determine the supposed standard of pronunciation. Thus as far back as
the beginning of the eighteenth century we find that the orthoepists
of that period undertook to ascertain and record the pronunciation of
English as practised in polite society.
Now, the early orthoepists discovered, apparently to their
astonishment, that English pronunciation, even in the most cultured
circles, far from being fixed by ironclad rules, was quite an elastic
thing, allowing considerable latitude. Indeed, two centuries ago
pronunciation in English, as reflected by the best usage, was no more
uniform than it is to-day. Then as now, men recognized no fixed and
absolute standard of English pronunciation. They followed their own
tastes and individual preferences, despite the orthoepical suggestions
and recommendations of their contemporaries. Prejudice and caprice,
too, in those days, as in the present time, were factors to be reckoned
with, so that the path of the would-be authority on pronunciation was
beset with no slight difficulty.
It must not be inferred, however, that the orthoepists themselves were
a unit and in perfect harmony as to current usage. On the contrary,
they were frequently far apart in recording the pronunciation
sanctioned by the best society and differed quite as much as their
worthy successors of the present day. They sometimes indulged in
vituperation and severe censure at each others’ expense and made no
attempt to conceal their disapproval of a rival’s authority, which
they expressed in plain, vigorous Anglo-Saxon. Some of their sarcastic
remarks furnish spicy and entertaining reading to the student who is
willing to plod his way through the dreary waste of those forgotten
dust-covered tomes.
The most conspicuous among the eighteenth century orthoepists were
Baily, Johnson, Buchanan, Sheridan and Walker. Some of these were
Scotch, and some Irish, and some, of course, English. Quite naturally
it struck the fancy of an Englishman as somewhat humorous, not to say
absurd, for an Irishman or a Scotchman to pose as an authority on
English pronunciation. So the damaging taunt of foreign nationality
and consequent lack of acquaintance with English usage was flaunted
in the face of Buchanan and Sheridan, natives of Scotland and Ireland,
respectively.
When Doctor Johnson was informed of Sheridan’s plan of producing an
English dictionary that was designed to indicate the pronunciation of
each word, he ridiculed the idea of an Irishman’s presuming to teach
Englishmen how to speak their native language as utterly absurd.
“Why, Sir,” growled the autocrat of eighteenth century literature,
“my dictionary shows you the accent of words, if you can but remember
them.” Then on being reminded that his dictionary does not give
the pronunciation of the vowels, “Why, Sir,” continued he, in his
characteristic surly manner, “consider how much easier it is to learn
a language by the ear than by any marks. Sheridan’s dictionary may do
very well; but you can not always carry it about with you; and when
you want the word, you have not the dictionary. It is like the man
who has a sword that will not draw. It is an admirable sword, to be
sure; but while your enemy is cutting your throat, you are unable to
use it. Besides, Sir, what entitles Sheridan to fix the pronunciation
of English? He has, in the first place, the disadvantage of being an
Irishman; and if he says he will fix it after the example of the best
company, why they differ among themselves. I remember an instance: when
I published the plan of my dictionary, Lord Chesterfield told me that
the word _great_ should be pronounced to rhyme to _state_; and Sir
William Yonge sent me word that it should be pronounced so as to rhyme
to _seat_, and that none but Irishmen would pronounce it _grait_. Now,
here were two men of the highest rank, the one the best speaker in the
House of Lords, the other the best speaker in the House of Commons,
differing entirely.”
As this quotation shows clearly and forcibly, even the usage of the
very best speakers in England in the eighteenth century was far from
uniform and harmonious, as has been intimated in the opening paragraph.
Moreover, it is evident from the striking illustration Johnson uses
that English pronunciation must have varied much more two centuries
ago than it does to-day; for no two speakers of national reputation,
such as the leaders of the two chambers of Parliament presumably must
have been, would differ so radically at the present time in their
pronunciation. The truth is, in those good old days men paid but little
attention either to pronunciation or to spelling. It is a fact not
so widely known as it deserves to be, that English orthography two
centuries ago was just emerging from a state of confusion and chaos;
and law and order were then for the first time beginning to appear. The
result is the conventional spelling which only since the eighteenth
century has been stereotyped in the form now so familiar to all
educated people. And not even yet, as we know, has English orthography
had its perfect work. As late as Doctor Johnson’s time, the spelling of
many English words had not yet been crystallized, and not a few words
could be spelled in two distinct ways, either of which was recognized
as correct. For instance, the spelling of _soap_, _cloak_, _choke_ and
_fuel_, to select only a few examples, as recorded in his dictionary,
vacillated between “sope,” “cloke,” “choak,” “fewel” and the present
accepted spelling of these words. These variant spellings, long since
rejected, now seem to us either attempts at phonetic spelling or quaint
and curious imitations of Chaucerian orthography. Having discussed
elsewhere[8] the subject of English spelling, I dismiss the matter here
with this passing reference.
The crystallized form of English spelling which has been brought about
mainly through the influence of the printing-press in the last few
centuries we accept as a matter of course, little thinking of the
difficulties innumerable which the printer and the “gentle” reader
encountered three centuries ago. But the very existence of a standard
orthography, as a moment’s reflection will show, has necessitated as
its indispensable adjunct the pronouncing dictionary.
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.