OUR MOTHER TONGUE

Press, Volume LXXII, Issue 21808, 13 June 1936, Page 17

OUR MOTHER TONGUE

RANDOM NOTES

[Br PROFESSOR ARNOLD WALL.]

How We Know An interested reader of these notes asks me how we know what were the old pronunciations of words. Unless we wish to go further back than about 150 years we know from the Pronouncing Dictionaries which followed one another in an unbroken line from 1773, when Dr William Kenrick published his "New Dictionary." In these books the pronunciation of every word was indicated by an ingenious phonetic system. Before that time we can be sure of the pronunciation of all common and familiar words by consulting the learned works on the English language, which were published from about 1546 onwards at intervals of about 30 years. Nearly all these books advocated a phonetic system of spelling, and all give renderings of passages of English in phonetic script. The best of these are those of Sir Thomas Smith (1568); John Hart (1569); William Bullokar (1580); Alexander Gill (1619); Dr. John Wallis (1653); Bishop Wilkins (1668); and Dr. John Jones (1701). Many of these books, such as those of Gill and Wallis, are in Latin, and after 1660 they became truly scientific in their method and outlook; both Wallis and Wilkins were among the founders of the Royal Society.

A Monstrosity “Electrocute.” What is this? It is a monstrosity, a “malform.” Yet it has established itself in spite of the condemnation of all right-speak-ing people. It was modelled on “execute.” “to hang or behead,” which is. in that sense, a monstrosity, too. For “to execute” is to “follow up,” or “carry out” a sentence or decree, and it was wrong to speak of “executing” the man instead of the sentence. “Execute” represents Latin “ex-sequi,” “exsecutus.” but “electrocute” represents, if anything, an imaginary Latin “electrocutire,” whose second element is “cutirc,” “to strike,” and the abstract noun from it should be “electrocussion.” But it is too late to protest; we can only regret.

Not So Bad “Monumental Mason/’ A correspondent asks if this should not rather be “Monument Mason.” No; “monumental” is not wrong here. Adjectives are very frequently used like this, not exactly and literally qualifying the noun, but making with it a sort of compound whose meaning is other than the sum of the meanings of its parts. Thus wo have “military tailor,” “yachting cap,” and so on, and I remember the chemists’ “boating ointment” in the Cambridge of my time, which certainly did not mean an ointment that took trips in boats, and a racing editor is not necessarily a rapid sprinter. “Valuator.” In questioning this word my correspondent was on firmer ground. No such word is recognised as English at all in the Oxford Dictionary. “Valuer” is surely good enough, but some people can never be satisfied with three syllables if they can anyhow contrive four. “Infer” for “imply.” The critical reader who draws my attention to this usage is theoretically right in objecting to it. The Latin original means, among other things “to deduce” or “conclude” (from .facts), but not “to imply.” However, the word has been used in the latter sense for so long and by writers of such standing (e.g., Sir Walter Scott) that it has won its place in our speech and in our dictionaries. “Effectuate.” This same reader has been surprised by this word, which was unfamiliar to him, but it is a well-established English word, however useless and pretentious it may appear. “Clique.” But he is quite right in objecting to the pronunciation of this word as “click” instead of (approximately) “cleek.” I have heard this “click” in New Zealand, but not from the lips of well-educated people, and have regarded it as a mere vulgarism.

Thro’ and Tho’ “Tho’.” A student reader of these notes having been sat upon for writing “tho”’ and “thro”’ asks for a ruling on these forms. They are, of course, traditional, and in a sense perfectly good, yet they are not used in ordinary printed English, except in poetry. Tennyson used them, just as he used “plow” for “plough,” etc., but that may be called poetic license. After all a line must be drawn somewhere, for we all, when writing informally or for our own eye, use abbreviations which would not do in print and very few of these are allowed out without being dressed up properly. The line is certainly drawn so as to separate “tho’ ” and “though,” and even the invaluable may not go abroad in that guise. “Persons are not permitted to appear in bathing-cos-tume except in the immediate vicinity of the beach.”

Myself “Myself.”- A rather too critical correspondent asks for an opinion on the use of “myself” in “my wife and myself thank you.” Though “I” is perhaps better here “myself” is not wrong, and when the phrase is objective “myself” must be used as in “on behalf of my wife and myself.” In older English “myself” could be used alone in the nominative, as by Shakespeare, “myself beheld, etc.” The idioms of “self” are often illogical and essentially ungrammatical, but they established themselves during the anarchic Middle Ages and cannot be displaced now, e.g., “he said so himself” where “himself” is really nominative but is in the objective form., “Rise up.” The same critic would object to this, but I cannot support him. The idiom is old, frequent in the Authorised Version of the Bible, and is just as good as “sit down.” Objection not sustained.

Octopi Again “Octopi.” A candid critic to whom I am indebted for many helpful suggestions challenges my statement in a previous note that “octopi” is permissible. I hate “octopi” as much as he does, would never recommend it. and hope I shall never see or hear it, yet I am compelled to countenance it if I am to be just. The case is not so simple as my critic thinks. It is true, as he says, that the word, though Latin in respect to its termination, is formed of Greek elements; and that the Greek plural must be “podes,” not “pi”; and that “octopus” was unknown to classical Latin. As counsel for the defence I should submit that the Romans, when they adopted a Greek word of this group, inflected it as Latin, so they took “polypus” (from “polus” and

“pous”) and treated it as Latin with both its genitive and its plural in -i. Now “polypi,” which is admittedly correct in English, is exactly parallel to “octopi” which the Romans would certainly have used if they had had the word. As things are the inconsistency in English is only justified by the fact that “polypus” existed in classical Latin and “octopus” did not. This distinction is far too fine for the plain man. and it is, I think, at least questionable whether we act wisely in maintaining it. Suppose some scholar should discover a classical “octopus” lurking in some neglected author, or possibly an “octopi,” an improbable but not impossible thing—where would our distinction be then?

“Alternately” for “alternatively.” The same kind friend first mentioned supplies me with an example of this error, which he has often seen in print. It is from the “Field” of February 29, 1936, where a writer recommends for a dog’s eye a certain dressing “or alternately” another. One can only call this a vulgarism and take the offender to task when the opportunity offers. A very similar error is “unchartered seas” for “uncharted,” noticed by the same correspondent; this is probably due to sheer carelessness.