guage. Partly, however, from ignorance, partly from carelessness, and partly perhaps from stupidity, our scholars transferred the pronunciation of the more popular learned language to that which was less known; and with the help of time and constant usage, so habituated themselves to identify the accented with the long syllable, according to the analogy of the Latin, that they began seriously to doubt the possibility of pronouncing otherwise. English scholars have long ceased to recognise its existence, and persist in reading Greek as if the accentual marks meant nothing at all. Even those who allow (like Mr W. G. Clark and Professor Munro) that ancient Greek accent denoted an elevation of voice or tone, are still of opinion that it is impossible to reproduce it in modern times. "Here and there," says the former (Cambridge Journal of Philology, vol. i. 1868), "a person may be found with such an exquisite ear, and such plastic organs if speech, as to be able to reproduce the ancient distinction between the length and tone of syllables accented and unaccented, and many not so gifted may fancy that they reproduce it when they do nothing of the kind. For the mass of boys and men, pupils as well as teachers, the distinction is practically impossible." But, in spite of such pessimist views, it may, on the whole, be safely asserted that since the appearance of a more philosophical spirit in philology, under the guidance of Hermann, Boeckh, and other master-minds among the Germans, the best grammarians have come to recognise the importance of this element of ancient Hellenic enunciation, while not a few carry out their principles into a consistent practice. The only circumstance, indeed, that prevents our English scholars from practically recognising the element of accent in classical teaching, is the apprehension that this would interfere seriously with the practical inculcation of quantity; an apprehension in which they are certainly justified by the practice of the modern Greeks, who have given such a predominance to accent, as altogether to subordinate, and in many cases completely overwhelm quantity; and who also, in public token of this departure from the classical habit of pronunciation, regularly compose their verses with a reference to the spoken accent only, leaving the quantity—as in modern language generally—altogether to the discretion of the poet. But, as experiment will teach any one that there is no necessity whatever in the nature of the human voice for this confusion of two essentially different elements, it is not unlikely that English scholars will soon follow the example of the Germans, and read Greek prose at least systematically according to the laws of classical speech, as handed down to us by the grammarians of Alexandria and Byzantium. In the recitation of classical verse, of course, as it was not constructed on accentual principles, the skilful reader will naturally allow the musical accent, or the emphasis of the rhythm to over bear, to a great extent, or altogether to overwhelm, the accent of the individual word; though with regard to the recitation of verse, it will always remain a problem how far the ancients themselves did not achieve an "accentuum cum quantitate apta conciliatio," such as that which Hermann (De emendanda ratione, &c.) describes as the perfection of a polished classical enunciation. A historic survey of the course of learned opinion on the subject of accent, from the age of Erasmus down to the present day, forms an interesting and important part of Professor Blackie's essay quoted above. See Pennington's work on Greek Pronunciation, Cambridge, 1844; the German work on Greek Accent by Göttling (English), London, 1831; and Blackie's essay on the Place and Power of Accent, in the Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, 1870-71.
If there is any perplexity regarding the nature or influence of classical accent, there is none about English. It does not conflict or combine with the modulations of quantity. It is the sole determining element in our metrical system. Almost the very earliest of our authors, the Venerable Bede, notices this. In defining rhythm he says—"It is a modulated composition of words, not according to the laws of metre, but adapted in the number of its syllables to the judgment of the ear, as are the verses of our vulgar poets" (Bede, Op. vol. i. p. 57, ed. 1553). We have, of course, long vowels and short, like the Greeks and the Romans, but we do not regulate our verse by them; and our mode of accentuation is sufficiently despotic to occasionally almost change their character, so that a long vowel shall seem short, and vice versa. In reality this is not so. The long vowel remains long, but then its length gives it no privilege of place in a verse. It may modify the enunciation, it may increase the roll of sound, but a short vowel could take its place without a violation of metre. Take the word far, for example; there the vowel a, is long, yet in the line
"O Moon, far-spooming Ocean bows to thee,"
it is not necessary that the a in far should be long; a short vowel would do as well for metrical purposes, and would even bring out more distinctly the accentuation of the syllable spoom.
Originally English accent was upon the root, and not upon inflectional syllables. Göttling finds the same principle operating in Greek, but in that language it certainly never exercised the universal sway it does in the earlier forms of English. In the following passage from Beowulf, the oldest monument of English literature, belonging, in its first form, to a period even anterior to the invasion of Britain by the Angles and Saxons, we shall put the accented or emphatic syllables in italics:—
 | A table should appear at this position in the text. See Help:Table for formatting instructions. |
It will be observed that in these verses the accent (not to be confounded with the mark which is used in Anglo-Saxon to show that the vowel over which it is placed is long) i,invariably on a monosyllable, or on the root part of a word of more than one syllable. The passage is also a good illustration of what has previously been stated, that the metre or rhythm in English is determined not by the vowel-quantity of a syllable, but by the stress of the voice on particular syllables, whether the vowels are long or short. In the older forms of English verse the accent is somewhat irregular; or, to put it more accurately, the number of syllables intervening between the recurrent accents is not definitely fixed. Sometimes two or more intervene, sometimes none at all. Take, for example, the opening lines of Langland's poem, entitled the Vision of Piers the Plowman:—
Whan soft was the sonne,
I shope me in shroudes,
As I a shepe were,
In habit as an heremite
Unholy of workes,
Went wide in this world
Wonders to here.
Ae on a May mornynge
On Maluerne hulles,
Me byfel a ferly,
Of fairy, me thoughte;
I was wery forwandred,
And went me to reste
Under a brode banke
By a bornes side.
And as I lay and lened,
And loked in the waters,
I slombred in a slepyng,
It sweyued so marye."
But no matter how irregular the time elapsing between the
I. — 11
