Class _h^_Lv.i_ 
 
 Book-iVJLSL- 
 
 \ WO 
 
WORDS AND THEIR USES, 
 
 PAST AND PRESENT. 
 
 A STUDY OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 
 
 By RICHARD GRANT WHITE. 
 
 ) » O ' 1 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 S H E L D O X A N D COMPAX Y, 
 
 498 and 500 Broadway. 
 
 1 870. 
 
 
Hi* 
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, 
 
 By RICHARD GRANT WHITE, 
 
 J n the Ofnce of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 Stereotyped at the Boston Stereotype Foundry, 
 No. 19 Spring Lane. 
 
To James Russell Lowell. 
 
 My dear Sir : 
 
 When jour forefather met mine, as he probably did, some 
 two hundred and thirty or forty years ago, in the newly laid 
 out street of Cambridge (and there is reason for believing that 
 the meeting was likely to be about where Gore Hall now stands), 
 yours might have been somewhat more grimly courteous than 
 he doubtless was, had he known that he saw the man one of 
 whose children in the eighth generation was to pay one of his, 
 at the same remove, even this small tribute of mere words ; and 
 mine might have lost some of his reputation for inflexibility had 
 he known that he was keeping on his steeple-crown before him 
 without whom there would be no " Legend of Brittany," no 
 "Sir Launfal," no " Commemoration Ode." no "Cathedral," 
 no " Biglow Papers," — without whom our idea of the New 
 England these men helped to found would lack, in these latter 
 days, some of the strength and the beauty which make it 
 worthy of our respect, our admiration, and our love, — and 
 without whom the great school that was soon set up where 
 they were standing, to be the first and ever the brightest light 
 of learning in the land, would miss one of its most shining 
 ornaments. 
 
 We may be sure that both these honored men spoke English 
 in the strong and simple manner of their time, of which you 
 have well said that it was " a diction which we should be glad 
 to buy back from desuetude at almost any cost," and which 
 
 (O 
 
TO JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 
 
 you have done so much to illustrate, to perpetuate, and to en- 
 rich. I have as little faith as I believe you have in the worth 
 of a school-bred language. Strong, clear, healthy, living 
 speech springs, like most strong, living things, from the soil, 
 and grows according to the law of life within its seed. But 
 pruning and training may do something for a nursery-bred 
 weakling, and even for that which springs up unbidden, and 
 grows with native vigor into sturdy shapeliness. It is because 
 you have shown this in a manner which makes all men of New 
 England stock your debtors, and proud of their indebtedness, 
 that at the beginning of a book which seeks to do in the weak- 
 ness of precept what you have done by the strength of example, 
 I acknowledge, in so far as I may presume to do so, what is 
 owing to you by all j r our countrymen, and also record the 
 high respect and warm regard with which I am, and hope ever 
 to be, 
 
 Faithfully your friend, 
 
 Richard Grant White. 
 
 New York, Attg-ust 3, 1870. 
 
 (2) 
 
PREFACE 
 
 THE following pages contain the substance of the 
 articles which appeared in The Galaxy in the years 
 1867, 1868, and 1869, under the title now borne by 
 this volume. Some changes in the arrangement of 
 the subjects of those articles, some excisions, and a few 
 additions, have been made ; but after reading, with a 
 willingness to learn, nearly all the criticisms with which 
 I was favored, I have found reason for abandoning 
 or modifying very few of my previously expressed 
 opinions. 
 
 The purpose of the book is the consideration of the 
 right use and the abuse of words and idioms, with an 
 occasional examination of their origin and their history. 
 It is occupied almost exclusively with the correctness 
 and fitness of verbal expression, and any excursion into 
 higher walks of philology is transient and incidental. 
 
 Soon after taking up this subject I heard a story 
 of a professor at Oxford, who, being about to address 
 a miscellaneous audience at that seat of learning, illus- 
 trated some of his positions by quotations in the original 
 from Arabic writers. A friend venturing to hint that this 
 
 3 
 
4 PREFACE. 
 
 might be caviare to his audience, he replied, " O, every- 
 body knows a little Arabic.'' Now, I have discovered 
 that everybody does not know a little Arabic ; and more, 
 that there are men all around me, of intelligence and 
 character, who, although they cannot be called illiterate, 
 — as peasants are illiterate, — know so very little of 
 the right use of English, that, without venturing beyond 
 the limits of my own yet imperfect knowledge of my 
 mother tongue, I might undertake to give the instruc- 
 tion that I find many of them not only need, but 
 desire. 
 
 The need is particularly great in this country ; of 
 which fact I have not only set forth the reasons, but 
 have endeavored to explain them with such detail as 
 would enable my readers to see them for themselves, and 
 take them to heart, instead of merely accepting or reject- 
 ing my assertion. Since I first gave these reasons in The 
 Galaxy, they have been incidentally, but earnestly and 
 impressively, presented by Professor Whitney in his 
 book on Language and the Study of Language. 
 Summing up his judgment on this point, that eminent 
 philologist says, " The low-toned party newspaper is 
 too much the type of the prevailing literary influence 
 by which the style of speech of our rising generation 
 is moulding. A tendency to slang, to colloquial in- 
 elegances, and even vulgarities, is the besetting sin 
 against which we, as Americans, have especially to 
 guard and to struggle." 
 
 What Professor Whitney thus succinctly declares, I 
 have endeavored to set forth at large and to illustrate. 
 Usage in the end makes language ; determining not 
 
PREFACE. 5 
 
 only the meaning of words, but their suggestiveness, 
 and also their influence. For the influence of man 
 upon language is reciprocated by the influence of lan- 
 guage upon man ; and the mental tone of a community 
 may be vitiated by a yielding to the use of loose, coarse, 
 low, and frivolous phraseology. Into this people fall 
 by the mere thoughtless imitation of slovenly exem- 
 plars. A case in point — trifling and amusing, but not, 
 therefore, less suggestive — recently attracted my atten- 
 tion. Professor Whitney mentions, as one of his many 
 illustrations of the historical character of word-making, 
 that we put on a " pair of rubbers" because, when 
 caoutchouc was first brought to us, we could find no 
 better use for it than the rubbing out of pencil-marks. 
 But overshoes of this material are not universally called 
 " rubbers." In Philadelphia, with a reference to the 
 nature of the substance of which they are made, they 
 are- called "gums." A Philadelphia gentleman and 
 his wife going to make a visit at a house in New 
 York, where they' were very much at home, he entered 
 the parlor alone ; and to the question, " Why, where 
 is Emily?" answered, " O, Emily is outside cleaning 
 her gums upon the mat ; " whereupon there was a 
 momentary look of astonishment, and then a peal of 
 laughter. Now, there is no need whatever of the use 
 of either of the poor words rubbers or gums in this 
 sense. The proper word is simply overshoes, which 
 expresses all that there is occasion to tell, except to 
 a manufacturer or a salesman. There is neither neces- 
 sity nor propriety in our going into the question of the 
 fabric of what we wear for the protection of our feet, 
 
O PREFACE. 
 
 and of saying that a lady is either rubbing her rubbers 
 or cleaning her gums upon the mat ; no more than 
 there is in our saying that a gentleman is brushing his 
 wool (meaning his coat), or a lady drying her eyes 
 with her linen (meaning her handkerchief). Lan- 
 guage is generally formed by indirect and unconscious 
 effort ; but when a language is subjected to the constant 
 action of such degrading influences as those which 
 threaten ours, it may be well to introduce into its devel- 
 opment a little consciousness. The difference between 
 saying, He donated the balance of the lumber, and He 
 gave the rest of the timber, is perhaps trifling; but man's 
 language, like man himself, grows by a gradual accre- 
 tion of trifles, and the sum of these, in our case, is 
 on the one hand good English, and on the other bad. 
 Therefore they are not unworthy of any man's serious 
 attention. 
 
 Language is rarely corrupted, and is often enriched, 
 by the simple, unpretending, ignorant man, who takes 
 no thought of his parts of speech. It is from the man 
 who knows just enough to be anxious to square his 
 sentences by the line and plummet of grammar and 
 dictionary that his mother tongue suffers most grievous 
 injury. It is his influence chiefly which is resisted in 
 this book. I have little hope, I must confess, of un- 
 doing any of the harm that he has done, or of pluck- 
 ing up any monstrosity that, planted by him, has struck 
 root into the popular speech ; particularly if it seems 
 fine, and is not quite understood by those who use it. 
 
 Transpire and predicate — worthy pair — will be used, 
 I fear, the one to mean happen, and the other found ; 
 
PREFACE. 7 
 
 things will continue to be being" done, and the gentle* 
 manly barkeeper of the period will call his grog-shop a 
 sample-room, notwithstanding all that I have said, and 
 all that abler men and better scholars than I am may- 
 say, to the contrary. But, although I do not expect to 
 purge away corruption, I do hope to arrest it in some 
 measure by giving hints that help toward wholesome- 
 ness. 
 
 This book may possibly correct some of the pre- 
 vailing evils against which it is directed ; but I shall 
 be satisfied if it awakens an attention to its subject that 
 will prevent evil in the future. Scholars and philolo- 
 gists need not be told that it is not addressed to them ; 
 but neither is it written for the unintelligent and entirely 
 uninstructed. It is intended to be of some service to 
 intelligent, thoughtful, educated persons, who are in- 
 terested in the study of the English language, and in 
 the protection of it against pedants on the one side and 
 coarse libertines in language on the other. 
 
 On the etymology of words I have said little, because 
 little was needed. The points from which I have re- 
 garded words are in general rather those of taste and 
 reason than of history ; and my discussions are philo- 
 logical only as all study of words must be philological. 
 The few suggestions which I have made in etymology 
 I put forth with no affectation of timidity, but with 
 little concern as to their fate. Etymology, which, as 
 it is now practised, is a product of the last thirty 
 years, fulfils towards language the function which the 
 antiquarian and the genealogist discharge in the making 
 of the world's history. The etymologist of the present 
 
8 PREFACE. 
 
 day follows, as he should follow, his word up step by 
 step through the written records of past years, until 
 he finds its origin in the fixed form of a parent language. 
 The disappearance of every letter, the modification 
 of every sound, the introduction of every new letter, 
 must be accounted for in accordance with the analogy 
 of the language at the period when the change, real 
 or supposed, took place. Thus etymology has at last 
 been placed upon its only safe bases, — research and 
 comparison, — and the origin of most words in modern 
 languages is as surely determinable as that of a mem- 
 ber of any family which has a recorded history. 
 
 I have only to add he're that in my remai'ks on what 
 I have unavoidably called, by way of distinction, British 
 English and " American " English, and in my criticism 
 of the style of some eminent British authors, no insin- 
 uation of a superiority in the use of their mother tongue 
 by men of English race in " America " is intended, no 
 right to set up an independent standard is implied. 
 Of the latter, indeed, there is no fear. When that new 
 "American" thing, so eagerly sought, and hitherto 
 so vainly, does appear, if it ever do appear, it will not 
 be a language, or even a literature. 
 
 This bookjwas prepared for the press in the autumn of 1869. 
 An unavoidable and unexpected delay in its appearance has 
 enabled me to add a few examples in illustration of my views, 
 which I have met with since that time ; but it has received no 
 other additions. 
 
 R. G. W. 
 
 New York, July 8, 1870. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. page 
 
 Introduction 13 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Newspaper English. Big Words for Small 
 
 Thoughts 28 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 British English and "American" English 44 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 Style 63 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 Misused Words 80 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 Some Briticisms 183 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 Words that are not Words 199 
 
 (9) 
 
IO CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Formation of Pronouns. — Some. — Adjectives in En. 
 
 — -Either and Neither. — Shall and Will. . . 239 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 Grammar, English and Latin 274 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 The Grammarless Tongue 295 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 Is Being Done 334 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A Desultory Denunciation of English Dictiona- 
 ries 364 
 
 Conclusion 392 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 I. How the Exception proves the Rule 403 
 
 II. Controversy , . . . 412 
 
 Index 427 
 
WORDS AND THEIR USES, 
 
 (ii) 
 
"They be not wise, therefore that say, what care I for man's wordes and utterance, 
 if hys matter and reasons be good ? Such men, say so, not so much of ignorance, as 
 eyther of some singular pride in themselves, or some speciall malice of other, or for 
 some private and parciall matter, either in Religion or other kynde of learning. For 
 good and choice meates, be no more requisite for helthy bodyes, than proper and apt 
 wordes be for good matters, and also playne and sensible utterance for the best and 
 deepest reasons ; in which two poyntes standeth perfect eloquence, one of the fayrest 
 and rarest giftes that God doth geve to man." 
 
 Ascham's Scholemaster, fol. 46, ed. 1571. 
 
 "Seeing that truth consisteth in the right ordering of names in our affirmations, a 
 man that seeketh precise truth had need to remember what every name he useth stands 
 for, and to place it accordingly, or else he will find himselfe entangled in words as a 
 bird in lime-twiggs. The more he struggles the more belimed." 
 
 Hobbes's Leviathan, I. 4. 
 
 "F. Must we always be seeking after the meaning of words? 
 
 "H. Of important words we must, if we wish to avoid important error. The 
 meaning of these words especially is of the greatest consequence to mankind, and 
 seems to have been strangely neglected by those who have made most use of them." 
 Tooke, Diversions of Purley, Part II., ch. 1. 
 
 " Mankind in general are so little in the habit of looking steadily at their own mean- 
 ing, or of weighing the words by which they express it, that the writer who is careful 
 to do both will sometimes mislead his readers through the very excellence which qual- 
 ifies him to be their instructor ; and this with no other fault on his part than the mod- 
 est mistake on his part of supposing in those to whom he addresses himself an intel- 
 lect as watchful as his own." 
 
 Coleridge, The Friend, II., 2d Landing Place. 
 
 ( 12 ) 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ONE of the last judgments pronounced in philo- 
 logy is, that words are merely arbitrary sounds 
 for the expression and communication of ideas ; 
 that, for instance, a man calls the source of light 
 and heat the sun, because his mother taught him 
 so to call it, and that is the name by which it is 
 known to the people around him, and that if he 
 had been taught in his childhood, and by example 
 afterwards, to call it the moon, he would have done so 
 without question. But this truth was declared more 
 than two hundred years ago by Oliver Cromwell in 
 his reply to the committee that waited upon him 
 from Parliament to ask him to take the title of king. 
 In the course of his refusal to yield to their request, 
 he said, — 
 
 " Words have not their import from the natural power of 
 particular combinations of characters, or from the real efficacy 
 of certain sounds, but from the consent of those that use them, 
 and arbitrarily annex certain ideas to them, which might have 
 been signified with equal propriety by any other." 
 
 This conclusion, be it new or old, is sound; 
 but it would be very weak reasoning that would 
 draw from the fact that language is formed, on the 
 whole, by consent and custom, an argument in favor 
 
 x 3 
 
14 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 of indifference as to the right or wrong of usage. 
 For, although he was so earnestly entreated thereto, 
 and although it would have obviated some difficulty 
 in the administration of the government, Crom- 
 well, notwithstanding his opinion as to the arbitrary 
 meaning of words, refused to be called a king, be- 
 cause king meant something that he was not, and 
 had associations which he wished not to bring up. 
 And although words are arbitrary to the individual, 
 to the race or the nation, they are growths, and are 
 themselves the fruit and the sign of the growth of 
 the race or the nation itself, and have, like its mem- 
 bers, a history, and alliances, and rights of birth, 
 and inherent powers which endure as long as they 
 live, and which they can transmit, although some- 
 what modified, to their rightful successors. 
 
 But although most words are more immutable, 
 as well as more enduring, than men are, some of 
 them within the memory of one generation vary 
 both in their forms and in the uses which they serve, 
 doing so according to the needs and even the 
 neglect of the users. And thus it is that living 
 languages are always changing. Spoken words 
 acquire, by use and from the varying circumstances 
 of those who use them, other and wider significa- 
 tions than those which they had originally ; inflec- 
 tions are dropped, and construction is modified, 
 its tendency being generally towards simplicity. 
 Changes in inflection and construction are found not 
 to be casual or capricious, but processes according 
 to laws of development; which, however, as in the 
 case of all laws, physical or moral, are deduced from 
 the processes themselves. The apparent operation 
 
INTRODUCTION. 1 5 
 
 of these laws is recognized so submissively by some 
 philologists that Dr. Latham has propounded the 
 dogma that in language whatever is, is right; to 
 which he adds another, as a corollary to the for- 
 mer, that whatever was, was wrong. But even 
 if we admit that in language whatever is — that is, 
 whatever usage obtains generally among the people 
 who speak a language as their mother tongue — is 
 right, that is, fulfils the true function of language, 
 which is to serve as a communication between man 
 and man, it certainly therefore follows that, what- 
 ever was, was also right; because it did, at one 
 time, obtain generally, and did fulfil the function of 
 language. 
 
 The truth is, that, although usage may be com- 
 pulsory in its behests, and thus establish a govern- 
 ment de facto , which men have found that they 
 must recognize whether they will or no, in lan- 
 guage, as in all other human affairs, that which is 
 may be wrong. There is some other law in lan- 
 guage than the mere arbitrary will of the users. 
 Language is made for man, and not man for 
 language ; but yet no man, no number of men, how- 
 ever great, can of purpose change the meaning of 
 one monosyllable. For, unless the meaning of words 
 is fixed during a generation, language will fail to 
 impart ideas, and even to communicate facts. Unless 
 it is traceable through the writings of many gen- 
 erations in a connected course of normal develop- 
 ment, language becomes a mere temporary and 
 arbitrary mode of intercourse ; it fails to be an ex- 
 ponent of a people's intellectual growth ; and the 
 speech of our immediate forefathers dies upon their 
 
l6 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 lips, and is forgotten. Of such misfortune there is, 
 however, not the remotest probability. 
 
 The recognition of the changes that the English 
 language has been undergoing from the time when 
 our Anglo-Saxon, or rather our English forefathers, 
 took possession of the southern part of Britain, is 
 no discovery of modern philology. The changes, 
 and the inconvenience which follows them, w r ere 
 noticed four hundred years ago by William Caxton, 
 our first printer — a "simple person," as he de- 
 scribes himself, but an observant, a thoughtful, and 
 a very intelligent man, and one to whom English 
 literature is much indebted. He was not only a 
 printer, but a writer ; and as a part of his literary 
 labor he translated into English a French version of 
 the ^Eneid, and published it in the year 1490. In 
 Caxton's preface to that book is a passage which 
 is interesting in itself, and also germane to our sub- 
 ject. I will give the passage entire, and in our 
 modern orthography : — 
 
 " And when I had advised me in this said book, I deliberated 
 and concluded to translate it into English, and forthwith took a 
 pen and ink and wrote a leaf or twain, which I oversaw again to 
 correct it; and when I saw the fair and strange terms therein, I 
 doubted that it should not please some gentlemen which late 
 blamed me, saying, that in my translations I had over-curious 
 terms which could not be understonden of common people, and 
 desired me to use old and homely terms in my translations ; and 
 fain would I satisfy every man ; and so to do, took an old book 
 and read therein; and certainly the English was so rude and 
 broad that I could not well understand it. And also my Lord 
 Abbot of Westminster did shew to me of late certain evidences 
 written in old English, for to reduce it into our English now 
 used, and certainly it was written in such wise that it was more 
 like Dutch than English. I could not reduce ne bring it to be 
 understonden. And certainly our language now used varyeth 
 
INTRODUCTION. 17 
 
 far from what was used and spoken when I was born. For we 
 Englishmen ben born under the domination of the Moon, which 
 is never steadfast, but ever wavering, waxynge one season and 
 waneth and decreaseth another season, and that common Eng- 
 lish that is spoken in one Shire varieth from another. Inso- 
 much that in my days it happened that certain merchants were 
 in a ship in Tamis [Thames] for to have sailed over the sea into 
 Zealand, and for lack of wind they tarried at Forland, and went 
 to land for to refresh them. And one of them named Sheffield, 
 a mercer, came into an house and axed for meat, and specially 
 he axed for eggs. And the good wife answered that she could 
 speak no French; and the merchant was angry; for he also 
 could speak no French, but would have had the eggs, and she 
 understood him not. And then at last another said that he would 
 have eyren ; then the good wife said that she understood him 
 well. Lo, what should a man in these days write? eggs or 
 cyren f Certainly it is hard to please every man, because of 
 diversity and change of language. For in these days every man 
 that is in any reputation in this country will utter his communi- 
 cation and matters in such manner and terms that few men shall 
 understand them ; and some honest and great clerks have been 
 with me and desired me to write the most curious terms that I 
 could find. And thus between plain, rude, and curious, I stand 
 abashed." 
 
 My chief purpose in giving this passage in our 
 regulated spelling is, that the reader may notice 
 how entirely it is written in the English of to-day. 
 Except axed, which we have heard used ourselves, 
 and eyren, which Caxton himself notices as obso- 
 lete, ben, ne, and under stonden, are the only words 
 in it which have not just the form and the meaning 
 that we now give to them ; and but for these five 
 words and a little quaintness of style, the passage 
 in its construction and its idiom might have been 
 written yesterday. And yet the writer was born in 
 the reign of Henry IV., and died a hundred years 
 before Shakespeare wrote his first play. He says, 
 too, in another part of his preface, that he wrote in 
 2 
 
1 8 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 the idiom and with the vocabulary in use among 
 educated people of his day, in ,? Englishe not over 
 rude," on the one hand, "ne curyous," that is, 
 affected and elaborately fine, on the other. If the 
 changes in language which took place during his 
 life were as great as he seems to have thought them, 
 if they were as great as those with which in the 
 present day we seem to be threatened, certainly 
 the period intervening between the time which saw 
 him a middle-aged man and now — four hundred 
 years — seems by contrast to have been one of 
 almost absolute linguistic stagnation. This, how- 
 ever, is mere seeming. The period of which Cax- 
 ton speaks was one in which the language was 
 crystallizing into its present form, and becoming 
 the English known to literature ; and changes then 
 were rapid and noticeable. The changes of our 
 day are mostly the result of the very superficial 
 instruction of a large body of people, who read 
 much and without discrimination, whose reading is 
 chiefly confined to newspapers hastily written b} r 
 men also very insufficiently educated, and who are 
 careless of accuracy in their ordinary speaking and 
 writing, and ambitious of literary excellence when 
 they make any extraordinary effort. The tendency 
 of this intellectual condition of a great and active 
 race is to the degradation of language, the utter 
 abolition of simple, clear, and manly speech. 
 Against this tendency it behooves all men who have 
 means and opportunity to strive, almost as if it 
 were a question of morals. For there is a kind 
 of dishonesty in the careless and incorrect use of 
 language. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 19 
 
 Purity, however, is not a quality which can 
 be accurately predicated of language. What the 
 phrase so often heard, " pure English," really means, 
 it would, probably, puzzle those who use it to 
 explain. For our modern tongues are like many 
 buildings that stand upon sites long swept over by 
 the ever-advancing, though backward and forward 
 shifting tide of civilization. They are built out of 
 the ruins of the work of previous generations, to 
 which we and our immediate predecessors have 
 added something of our own. This process has 
 been going on since the disappearance of the first 
 generation of speaking men ; and it will never cease. 
 But there will be a change in its mode and rate. 
 The change has begun already. The invention of 
 printing, the instruction of the mass of the people, 
 and the ease of popular intercommunication, will 
 surely prevent any such corruption and detrition of 
 language as that which has resulted in the modern 
 English, German, French, Spanish, and Italian 
 tongues. Phonetic degradation will play a less 
 important part than it has heretofore played in the 
 history of language. Changes in the forms, and 
 variation in the meanings of w r ords will be slow, 
 and if not deliberate, at least half conscious ; and 
 the corruptions that we have to guard against are 
 chiefly those consequent upon pretentious ignorance 
 and aggressive vulgarity. 
 
 It may be reasonably doubted whether there ever 
 was a pure language tw r o generations old ; that is, a 
 language homogeneous, of but one element. All 
 tongues known to philology show, if not the min- 
 gling in considerable and nearly determinable pro- 
 
20 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 portions of two or three linguistic elements, at least 
 the adoption and adaptation of numerous foreign 
 words. English has for many centuries been far 
 from being a simple language. Chaucer's "well 
 of English undefiled" is very pleasant and whole- 
 some drinking; but, pronouns, prepositions, conjunc- 
 tions, and " auxiliary " verbs aside, it is a mixture 
 in which Normanized, Gallicized Latin is mingled 
 in large proportion with a base of degraded Anglo- 
 Saxon. And yet the result of this hybridity and 
 degradation is the tongue in which Shakespeare 
 wrote, and the translators of the Bible, and Milton, 
 and Bunyan, and Burke, and Goldsmith, and Irving, 
 and Hawthorne ; making in a language without a 
 superior a literature without an equal. 
 
 But the presence in our language of two ele- 
 ments, both of which are essential to its present 
 fulness and force, no less than to its fineness and 
 flexibility, does not make it sure that these are of 
 equal or of nearly equal importance. Valuable as 
 the Latin adjuncts to our language are, in the 
 appreciation of their value it should never be for- 
 gotten that they are adjuncts. The frame, the 
 sinews, the nerves, the heart's blood, in brief, the 
 body and soul of our language is English ; Latin 
 and Greek furnish only its limbs and outward 
 flourishes. If what has come to us through the 
 Normans, and since their time from France and 
 Italy and the Latin lexicon, were turned out of our 
 vocabulary, we could live, and love, and work, and 
 talk, and sing, and have a folk-lore and a higher 
 literature. But take out the former, the movement 
 of our lives would be clogged, and the language 
 
INTRODUCTION. 21 
 
 would fall to pieces for lack of framework and 
 foundation, and we could do none of those things. 
 We might teach in the lecture-room, and formulate 
 the results of our work in the laboratory, but we 
 should be almost mute at home, and our language 
 and our literature would be no more ours than it 
 would be France's, or Spain's, or Italy's. 
 
 To the Latin we owe, as the most cursory stu- 
 dent of our language must have observed, a great 
 proportion of the vocabulary of philosophy, of art, 
 of science, and of morals ; and by means of words 
 derived from the Latin we express, as it is assumed, 
 shades of thought and of feeling finer than those of 
 which our simple mother tongue is capable. But 
 it may at least be doubted whether we do not turn 
 too quickly to the Latin lexicon when we wish a 
 name for a new thought or a new thing, and whether 
 out of the simples of our ancient English, or Anglo- 
 Saxon, so called, we might not have formed a lan- 
 guage copious enough for all the needs of the high- 
 est civilization, and subtle enough for all the requi- 
 sitions of philosophy. For instance, what we call, 
 in Latinish phrase, remorse of conscience, our fore- 
 fathers called againbite of inwit ; and in using the 
 former we express exactly the same ideas as are 
 expressed by the latter. As the corresponding 
 compounds and the corresponding elements have 
 the same meaning, what more do we gain by put- 
 ting together re and morse, con and science, than 
 by doing the same with again and bite, in and 
 wit ? The English words now sound uncouth, 
 and provoke a smile, but they do so only be- 
 cause we are accustomed to the Latin derivatives. 
 
22 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 No other advantage seems likely to be pleaded for 
 the use of the latter than that they produce a single 
 impression on the mind of the English-speaking 
 man, causing him to accept remorse and conscience 
 as simple words, expressing simple things, without 
 the suggestion of a biting again and an inner wit- 
 ting. But it may first .be doubted whether this 
 thoughtless, unanalytic acceptance of a word is 
 without some drawback of dissipating and enfee- 
 bling disadvantage ; and next, and chiefly, it may 
 be safely asserted that the English compounds 
 would produce, if in common use, as single and as 
 strong an impression as the Latin do. Who that 
 does not stop to think and take to pieces, receives 
 other than a single impression from such words as 
 insight (bereaved twin of inwit), gosf el, falsehood, 
 worship, homely , breakfast, truthful, boyhood, house- 
 hold, brimstone, twilight, acorn, chestnut, instead, 
 homestead, and the like, of which our current com- 
 mon English would furnish numberless examples? 
 
 In no way is our language more wronged than 
 by the weak readiness with which many of those 
 who, having neither a hearty love nor a ready mas- 
 tery of it, or lacking both, fly to the Latin tongue 
 or to the Greek for help in the naming of a new 
 thought or thing, or the partial concealment of an 
 old one, calling, for instance, nakedness nudity, and 
 a bathing-tub a lavatory. By so doing they help to 
 deface the characteristic traits of our mother tongue, 
 and to mar and stunt its kindly growth. 
 
 No one denies — certainly I do not deny — the val- 
 ue of the Latin element of our modern English in 
 the expression of abstract ideas and general notions. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 23 
 
 It gives also amplitude, and ease, and grace to a 
 language which without it might be admirable only 
 for compact and rugged strength. All which being 
 granted, it still remains to be shown that there is 
 not in simple English — that is, Anglo-Saxon with- 
 out inflections — the power of developing a vocabu- 
 lary competent to all the requirements of philosophy, 
 of science, of art, no less than of society and of 
 sentiment. I believe that pure English has, in this 
 respect at least, the full capacity of the German 
 language. Nevertheless, one of the advantages of 
 English over German, in form and euphony, is in 
 this very introduction of Anglicized Latin and Greek 
 words for the expression of abstract ideas, which re- 
 lieves us of such quintuple compounds, for instance, 
 as s^prachwissenschaftseinkeit. With the expression 
 of abstract ideas and scientific facts, however, the 
 Latinization of our language should stop, or it will 
 lose its home character, and kin traits, and become 
 weak, flabby, and inflated, and thus, ridiculous. 
 
 One of the changes to which language is subject 
 during the healthy intellectual condition of a peo- 
 ple, and in its progress from rudeness to refine- 
 ment, is the casting off of rude, clumsy, and in- 
 sufficiently worked-out forms of speech, sometimes 
 mistakenly honored under the name of idioms. 
 Speech, the product of reason, tends more and 
 more to conform itself to reason ; and when gram- 
 mar, which is the formulation of usage, is opposed 
 to reason, there arises, sooner or later, a conflict 
 between logic, or the law of reason, and grammar, 
 the law of precedent, in which the former is always 
 victorious. And this has been notably the case in 
 
24 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 the history of the English language. Usage, there- 
 fore, is not, as it is often claimed to be, the absolute 
 law of language ; and it never has been so with any 
 people — could not be, or we should have an ex- 
 ample of a language which had not changed from 
 what it was in its first stage, if indeed under such a 
 law there could be a first stage in language. Hor- 
 ace made no such assertion as that usage is the su- 
 preme authority in speech. He did say, — 
 
 " si volet usus, 
 Quern penes arbitrium est, et jus, et norma loquendi." 
 
 And if his dictum were unconditional, and common 
 usage were the absolute and rightful arbiter in all 
 questions of language, there would be no hope of 
 improvement in the speech of an ignorant and 
 degraded society, no rightful protest against its mean 
 and monstrous colloquial phrases, which, indeed, 
 would then be neither mean nor monstrous ; the 
 fact that they were in use being their full justifica- 
 tion. The truth is, however, that the authority of 
 general usage, or even of the usage of great wri- 
 ters, is not absolute in language. There is a misuse 
 of words which can be justified by no authority, 
 however great, by no usage, however general. 
 
 And, as usage does not justify that which is es- 
 sentially unreasonable, so in the fact that a word or 
 phrase is an innovation, a neologism, there is noth- 
 ing whatever to deter a bold, clear-headed thinker 
 from its use. Otherwise language would not grow. 
 New words, when they are needed, and are rightly 
 formed, and so clearly discriminated that they have 
 a meaning peculiarly their own, enrich a language ; 
 
INTRODUCTION. 25 
 
 while the use of one word to mean many things, 
 more or less unlike, is the sign of poverty in speech, 
 and the source of ambiguity, the mother of confusion. 
 For these reasons the objection on the part of a 
 writer upon language to a word or a phrase should 
 not be that it is new, but that it is inconsistent with 
 reason, incongruous in itself, or opposed to the 
 genius of the tongue into which it has been intro- 
 duced. Something must and surely will be sacri- 
 ficed in language to convenience ; but too much 
 may be sacrificed to brevity. A periphrasis which 
 is clear and forcible is not to be abandoned for a 
 shorter phrase, or even a single word, which is am- 
 biguous, barbarous, grotesque, or illogical. Unless 
 much is at stake, it is always better to go clean and 
 dry-shod a little way about than to soil our feet by 
 taking a short cut. 
 
 For two centuries and a half, since the time when 
 King Lear was written and our revised trans- 
 lation of the Bible made, the English language has 
 suffered little change, either by loss or gain. Ex- 
 cepting that which was slang, or cant, or loose col- 
 loquialism in his day, there is little in Shakespeare's 
 plays which is not heard now, more or less, from 
 the lips of English-speaking men ; and to his vo- 
 cabulary they have added little except words which 
 are names for new things. The language has not 
 sensibly improved, nor has it deteriorated. In the 
 latter part of the last century it was in some peril. 
 We ran the risk, then, of the introduction of a schol- 
 arly diction and a formal style into our literature, 
 and of a separation of our colloquial speech, the 
 language of common folk and common needs, 
 
26 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 from that of literary people and grand occasions. 
 That danger we happily escaped, and we still speak 
 and write a common, if not a homogeneous lan- 
 guage, in which there is no word which is excluded 
 by its commonness or its meanness from the highest 
 strain of poetry. 
 
 Criticism, however, is now much needed to keep 
 our language from deterioration, to defend it against 
 the assaults of presuming half-knowledge, always 
 bolder than wisdom, always more perniciously in- 
 trusive than conscious ignorance. Language must 
 always be made by the mass of those who use 
 it ; but when that mass is misled by a little learn- 
 ing, — a dangerous thing only as edge tools are 
 dangerous to those who will handle them with- 
 out understanding their use, -— and undertakes to 
 make language according to knowledge rather than 
 by instinct, confusion and disaster can be warded 
 off only by criticism. Criticism is the child and 
 handmaid of reflection. It works by censure, and 
 censure implies a standard. As to words and the use 
 of words, the standard is either reason, whose laws 
 are absolute, or analogy, whose milder sway hinders 
 anomalous, barbarous, and solecistic changes, and 
 helps those which are in harmony with the genius of 
 a language. Criticism, setting at nought the as- 
 sumption of any absolute authority in language, 
 may check bad usage and reform degraded cus- 
 tom. It may not only resist the introduction of that 
 which is debasing or enfeebling, but it may thrust 
 out vicious words and phrases which through care- 
 lessness or perverted taste may have obtained a 
 footing. It is only by such criticism that our Ian- 
 
INTRODUCTION. 27 
 
 guage can now be restrained from license and pre- 
 served from corruption. Criticism cannot at once, 
 with absolute and omnipotent voice, banish the evil, 
 and introduce or establish the good ; but by watch- 
 fulness and reason it may gradually form such a 
 taste in those who are, if not the framers, at least 
 the arbiters, of linguistic law, that thus, by indirec- 
 tion rinding direction out, it may insure the effec- 
 tual condemnation of that which itself could not 
 exclude. 
 
 Until comparatively late years language was 
 formed by the intuitive sense of those who spoke 
 it; but now, among highly civilized peoples, the 
 element of consciousness is entering into its pro- 
 duction. If consciousness must be present, it 
 should be, at least in the last resort, the conscious- 
 ness of trained and cultivated minds ; and such con- 
 sciousness is critical, indeed is criticism. And 
 those who feel the need of support in giving them- 
 selves to the study of verbal criticism may find it 
 in the comfortable words of Scaliger the younger, 
 who says, f *The sifting of these subtleties, although 
 it is of no use to machines for grinding corn, frees 
 the mind from the rust of ignorance, and sharpens 
 it for other matters." * And it may reassure us to 
 remember that, in the crisis of the great struggle 
 between Caesar and Pompey, Cicero, being then in 
 the zenith of his power, turned aside, in a letter to 
 Atticus upon weighty affairs of state, to discuss a 
 point of grammar with that eminent critic. 
 
 * Harum indagatio subtilitatum, etsi non est utilis ad machi- 
 nas farinarias conficiendas, exuit animum tamen inscitia? rubi- 
 gitie, acuit-que ad alia. 
 
28 
 
 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 NEWSPAPER ENGLISH. BIG WORDS FOR SMALL 
 THOUGHTS. 
 
 SIMPLE and unpretending ignorance is always 
 respectable, and sometimes charming ; but there 
 is little that more deserves contempt than the pre- 
 tence of ignorance to knowledge. The curse and 
 the peril of language in this day, and particularly in 
 this country, is, that it is at the mercy of men who, 
 instead of being content to use it well according to 
 their honest ignorance, use it ill according to their 
 affected knowledge ; who, being vulgar, would 
 seem elegant ; who, being empty, would seem full ; 
 who make up in pretence what they lack in real- 
 ity ; and whose little thoughts, let off in enormous 
 phrases, sound like fire-crackers in an empty barrel. 
 
 How I detest the vain parade 
 
 Of big-mouthed words of large pretence! 
 And shall they thus my soul degrade, 
 
 O tongue so dear to common sense! 
 Shouldst thou accept the pompous laws 
 
 By which our blustering tyros prate, 
 Soon Shakespeare's songs and Bunyan's saws 
 
 Some tumid trickster must translate. 
 
 Our language like our daily life, 
 
 Accords the homely and sublime, 
 And jars with phrases that are rife 
 
 With pedantry of every clime. 
 
NEWSPAPER ENGLISH. 29 
 
 For eloquence it clangs like arms, 
 
 For love it touches tender chords, 
 But he to whom the world's heart warms 
 
 Must speak in wholesome, home-bred words. 
 
 To the reader who is familiar with Beranger's 
 " Derniers Chansons " these lines will bring to mind 
 two stanzas in the poet's "Tambour Major," in 
 which he compares pretentious phrases to a big, 
 bedizened drum-major, and simple language to the 
 little gray-coated Napoleon at Austerlitz — a com- 
 parison which has been brought to my mind very 
 frequently during the writing of this book. 
 
 It will be well for us to examine some examples 
 of this vice of language in its various kinds ; and 
 for them we must go to the newspaper press, which 
 reflects so truly the surface of modern life, although 
 its surface only. 
 
 There is, first, the style which has rightly come 
 to be called newspaper English, and in which we 
 are told, for instance, of an attack upon a fortified 
 position on the Potomac, that " the thousand-toned 
 artillery duel progresses magnificently at this hour, 
 the howling shell bursting in wild profusion in camp 
 and battery, and among the trembling pines." I 
 quote this from the columns of a first-rate New 
 York newspaper, because the real thing is so much 
 more characteristic than any imitation could be, and 
 is quite as ridiculous. This style has been in use 
 so long, and has, day after day, been impressed 
 upon the minds of so many persons to whom news- 
 papers are authority, as to language no less than 
 as to facts, that it is actually coming into vogue in 
 daily life with some of our people. Not long ago 
 
30 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 my attention was attracted by a building which I 
 had not noticed before, and, stepping up to a police- 
 man who stood hard by, I asked him what it was. 
 He promptly replied (I wrote down his answer 
 within the minute) , " That is an institootion inau- 
 gurated under the auspices of the Sisters of Mercy, 
 for the reformation of them young females what 
 has deviated from the paths of rectitood." It was 
 in fact an asylum for women of the town ; but my 
 informant w r ould surely have regarded such a de- 
 scription of it as inelegant, and perhaps as indel- 
 icate. True, there was a glaring incongruity be- 
 tween the pompousness of his phraseology and his 
 use of those simple and common parts of speech, 
 the pronouns ; but I confess that, in his dispensa- 
 tion of language, "them" and "what" were the 
 only crumbs from which I received any comfort. 
 But could I find fault with my civil and obliging 
 informant, when I knew that every day he might 
 read in the leading articles of our best newspapers 
 such sentences, for instance, as the following? — ' 
 
 "There is, without doubt, some subtle essence permeating 
 the elementary constitution of crime which so operates that 
 men and women become its involuntary followers by sheer force 
 of attraction, as it were." 
 
 I am sure, at least, that the policeman knew bet- 
 ter what he meant when he spoke than the journal- 
 ist did what he meant when he wrote. Policeman 
 and journalist both wished not merely to tell what 
 they knew and thought in the simplest, clearest 
 way ; they washed to say something elegant, and 
 to use fine language ; and both made themselves 
 ridiculous. Neither this fault nor this complaint is 
 
BIG WORDS FOR SMALL THOUGHTS. 3 1 
 
 new ; but the censure seems not to have diminished 
 the fault, either in frequency or in degree. Our 
 every-day writing is infested with this silly bom- 
 bast, this stilted nonsense. One journalist, reflect- 
 ing upon the increase of violence, and wishing to 
 say that ruffians should not be allowed to go armed, 
 writes, "We cannot, however, allow the opportu- 
 nity to pass without expressing our surprise that the 
 law should allow such abandoned and desperate 
 characters to remain in possession of lethal weap- 
 ons." Lethal means deadly, neither more nor less ; 
 but it would be very tame and unsatisfying to use 
 an expression so common and so easily understood. 
 Another journalist, in the course of an article upon 
 a murder, says of the murderer that w a policeman 
 went to his residence, and there secured the clothes 
 that he wore when he committed the murderous 
 deed ; " and that, being found in a tub of water, 
 " they were so smeared by blood as to incarnadine 
 the water of the tub in which they were deposited." 
 To say that " the policeman went to the house or 
 room of the murderer, and there found the clothes 
 he wore when he did the murder, which were so 
 bloody that they reddened the water into which 
 they had been thrown," would have been far too 
 homely. 
 
 But not only are our journals and our speeches 
 to Buncombe infested with this big-worded style, 
 the very preambles to our acts of legislature, and 
 the official reports upon the dr} r est and most matter- 
 of-fact subjects, are bloated with it. It appears in 
 the full flower of absurdity in the following sentence, 
 which I find in the ireport of a committee of the 
 
32 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 legislature of New York on street railways. The 
 committee wished to say that the public looked upon 
 all plans for the running of fast trains at a height 
 of fifteen or twenty feet as fraught with needless 
 danger ; and the committee man who wrote for 
 them made them say it in this amazing fashion : — 
 
 "It is not to be denied that any system which demands the 
 propulsion of cars at a rapid rate, at an elevation of fifteen or 
 twenty feet, is not entirely consistent, in public estimation, with 
 the greatest attainable immunity from the dangers of transpor- 
 tation." 
 
 Such a use of words as this only indicates the 
 lack as well of mental vigor as of good taste and 
 education on the part of the user. "O," said 
 a charming, highly-cultivated, and thorough-bred 
 woman, speaking, in my hearing, of one of her 
 own sex of inferior breeding and position, but who 
 was making literary pretensions, and with some 
 success as far as notoriety and money were con- 
 cerned, — "O, save me from talking with that wo- 
 man ! If you ask her to come and see you, she 
 never says she's sorry she can't come, but that 
 she regrets that the multiplicity of her engage- 
 ments precludes her from accepting your polite 
 invitation." 
 
 The foregoing instances are examples merely of 
 a pretentious and ridiculous use of words which is 
 now very common. They are not remarkable for 
 incorrectness. But the freedom with which per- 
 sons who have neither the knowledge of language 
 which comes of culture, nor that which springs 
 spontaneously from an inborn perception and mas- 
 tery, are allowed to address the public and to speak 
 
BIG WORDS FOR. SMALT. THOUGHTS. 33 
 
 for it, produces a class of writers who fill, as it is 
 unavoidable that they should fill, our newspapers 
 and public documents with words which are ridicu- 
 lous, not only from their pretentiousness, but from 
 their preposterous unfitness for the uses to which 
 they are put. These persons not only write abom- 
 inably in point of style, but they do not say what 
 they mean. When, for instance, a member of 
 Congress is spoken of in a leading journal as " a 
 sturdy republican of progressive integrity," no very- 
 great acquaintance with language is necessary to 
 the discovery that the writer is ignorant of the 
 meaning either of -progress or of integrity. -When 
 in the same columns another man is described as 
 being "endowed with an impassionable nature," 
 people of common sense and education see that 
 here is a man not only writing for the public, but 
 actually attempting to coin words, who, as far as 
 his knowledge of language goes, needs the instruc- 
 tion to be had in a good common school. So, again, 
 when another journal of position, discoursing upon 
 convent discipline, tells us that a young woman is 
 not fitted for "the stern amenities of religious life," 
 and we see it laid down in a report to an important 
 public body that, under certain circumstances, "the 
 criminality of an act is heightened, and reflects a 
 very turgid morality indeed," it is, according to our 
 knowledge, whether we find in the phrases "stern 
 amenities " and " turgid morality " occasion for study 
 or food for laughter. 
 
 Writing like this is a fruit of a pitiful desire to 
 seem elegant when one is not so, which troubles 
 many people, and which manifests itself in the use 
 3 
 
34 
 
 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 of words as well as in the wearing of clothes, the 
 buying of furniture, and the giving of entertain- 
 ments ; and which in language takes form in words 
 which sound large, and seem to the person who 
 uses them to give him the air of a cultivated man, 
 because he does not know exactly what they mean. 
 Such words sometimes become a fashion among 
 such people, who are numerous enough to set and 
 keep up a fashion ; and they go on using them to 
 each other, each afraid to admit to the other that 
 he does not know what the new word means, and 
 equally afraid to avoid its use, as a British snob is 
 said never to admit that he is entirely unacquainted 
 with a duke. Our newspapers and reviews are 
 haunted now by two words of this sort — normal 
 and inaugurate. In the North American Review 
 itself (I name this review because of its very high 
 literary position — a position higher now than ever 
 before) a writer is permitted to say that, "This idea 
 [that of a ship without a bowsprit] was doubtless 
 a copy of the model inaugurated by Mr. E. K. 
 Collins, founder of the Collins line of American 
 Ocean Steamships." The writer meant invented 
 or introduced ; and he might as well have written 
 about the President of the United States being in- 
 vented on the 4th of March, as of inaugurating 
 the model of a ship. But ere long we shall prob- 
 ably have the milliners inaugurating their bonnets, 
 and the cooks making for us normal plum-puddings 
 and pumpkin pies. But normal and inaugurate, 
 and a crowd of such big words, are now used as 
 Bardolph uses accommodated, which, being ap- 
 proved by Mr. Justice Shallow as a good phrase, 
 
BIG WORDS FOR SMALL THOUGHTS. 35 
 
 he replies, " By this day I know not the phrase ; but 
 I will maintain the word with my sword to be a 
 soldier-like word, and a word of exceeding good 
 command. Accommodated ; that is, when a man 
 is, as they say — accommodated; or, when a man 
 is — being — whereby — he maybe thought to be 
 accommodated ; which is an excellent thing." 
 
 There is no telling to what lengths this desire to 
 speak fine will lead. It breaks out very strongly 
 with some people in the use of have and were. 
 They have taken into their heads a hazy notion 
 of the superior elegance of those words — as to the 
 latter from having heard it used by persons who are 
 precise as to their subjunctive mood ; how as to the 
 former I cannot conjecture. So, some of them, 
 when they wish to be very fine indeed, say, f * I were 
 going to Europe last fali, but were prevented by 
 the multiplied} 7 of my engagements," leaving ivas 
 m the company of plain and simple folk. I was 
 witness to a characteristic exhibition of this kind of 
 pretence. With two or three friends I called on 
 business at the house of a very wealthy man in the 
 Fifth Avenue, whom I had never met before, and 
 who has since gone to the place where " ail good 
 Americans go when they die." He proposed that 
 we should ride with him to the place to visit which 
 was the object of our gathering, and he stepped out 
 to give some orders. As the carriage came to the 
 door, he reentered the parlor, and approaching our 
 group, revolving his hands within each other, as if 
 troubled by a consciousness, partly reminiscence, 
 that they needed washing, he said with a little 
 smirk, " Gentlemen, the carriage have arrived." 
 
30 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 We stood it, as sober as judges ; but one of us soon 
 made an execrable pun, which afforded opportunity 
 for laughter, in which our host, as ignorant of a 
 play upon words as of the use of them, heartily 
 joined. Now, that man, if he had been speaking to 
 his wife, would have called out, Cf Sairy Ann, the 
 carriage has come," and have rivalled Thackeray 
 or Hawthorne in the correctness of his English. 
 
 We are suffering now, and shall suffer more 
 hereafter, from the improper use of words, in 
 a very important point, to wit, the drafting of 
 our laws. When the Constitution of the United 
 States was framed, the language of the instru- 
 ment was considered with great care. Each para- 
 graph, after having been discussed in committee 
 and in full convention, and its purport clearly de- 
 termined, was submitted to the revision of a com- 
 mittee on style, and it was not adopted until it had 
 received the sanction of that committee. Hence 
 it is that there is hardly a passage in the whole 
 Constitution the meaning of which can be doubted ; 
 the disputes about the Constitution being, almost 
 without exception, not as to what it provides, but 
 as to the effects of its provisions. But as to most 
 of the laws passed nowadays, both in the State 
 and national legislatures, it would puzzle those 
 who do not know the purpose of their framers, 
 to discover it from their language ; and when the 
 present generation of politicians has passed away, 
 these laws, if they last until that time, will bear 
 any construction that any court, or any majority of 
 any Congress, chooses to put upon them; which, 
 perhaps, in the view of the latter, will be an 
 
BIG WORDS FOR SMALL THOUGHTS. ^7 
 
 advantage. Some of the laws passed in the last 
 two sessions of Congress have little more coherence 
 or consistency than some of MotherGoose's rhymes. 
 But passing by such laws as touch great questions 
 of public policy, and as to which, therefore, it might 
 be unreasonable to expect our present legislators to 
 express themselves with clearness and propriety, 
 take, for example, the following section of a bill 
 brought into the legislature of New York in regard 
 to the metropolitan police : — 
 
 " Section 16. The Board of Metropolitan Police is hereby 
 authorized, in their discretion, to pay out of the Police Life In- 
 surance Fund an amount, not exceeding three hundred dollars, 
 to the members of the force who may be disabled while in the 
 discharge of their duties. In cases of death by injuries received 
 while discharging their duties, the annuities shall be continued 
 to the widow, or children, or both, as the Board may deem best. 
 The Board of Metropolitan Police is hereby constituted Trustees 
 of the Life Insurance Fund." 
 
 Laying no stress upon such English as "the 
 board is authorized in their discretion," and "the 
 board is constituted trustees" let us try to find out 
 what it is that the board is authorized to do. It is 
 "to pay an amount not exceeding three hundred 
 dollars to the members of the force who may be 
 disabled while in the discharge of their duties." 
 That is, unmistakably, according to the language 
 used, to pay three hundred dollars to all the mem- 
 bers of the force who may be so injured. This 
 seems rather a small provision for the purpose in 
 view; as to which there is still further uncertainty. 
 For who are all the members of the force, for whom 
 this provision is made? All who are injured during 
 the existence of the board? So the law says, and 
 
8 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 there is not a word, expressed or implied, to the 
 contrary. And how much is to be paid to each 
 member? There is not a word definitely to show. 
 But in the next sentence, which oddly says that, 
 " In case of death by injuries received while dis- 
 charging their duties, the annuities shall be con- 
 tinued to the widows or children or both," the word 
 annuities gives us a hint as to the meaning of the 
 law, but no more. Yet it is safe to say that this 
 section, which so completely fails to express a 
 simple intention as to the payment of money that 
 any construction of it might be plausibly disputed, 
 was supposed by its framers to mean what it does 
 mean in the corrected form following ; in which it 
 would have been written by any tolerably well- 
 instructed person — any person of sufficient intelli- 
 gence and education to be intrusted with the writing 
 of an official letter — much more the drafting of 
 a law. 
 
 " The Board of Police is hereby authorized in its discretion to 
 pay out of the Police Life Insurance Fund' an amount not ex- 
 ceeding three hundred dollars, annually, to every member of the 
 force who may be disabled while in the discharge of his duties. 
 In cases of death from injuries received in the discharge of duty, 
 the annuities shall be fiaid to the widow or the children of the 
 deceased member, or to both, as the Board may deem best. The 
 Board of Metropolitan Police is hereby constituted the Trustee 
 of the Police Life Insurance Fund." 
 
 There are laws of the United States, enacted 
 within the last four years, and which must come up 
 before the courts, and finally before the Supreme 
 Court, as the ground of the decision of important 
 questions, which are not a whit more explicit or 
 coherent than this example of the style of late New 
 York legislation. 
 
BIG WORDS FOR SMALL THOUGHTS. 39 
 
 Language being perverted in this country chiefly 
 in consequence of the wide diffusion of very super- 
 ficial instruction among a restless, money-getting, 
 and self-confident people, although the daily press 
 is the chief visible corrupter of our speech, it must 
 be admitted that the latter cause of degradation 
 is itself the consequence of the former. Our news- 
 papers do the harm in question through their ad- 
 vertisements as well as through their reports, their 
 correspondence, and their leading articles ; and it 
 would seem as if, in most cases, the same degree 
 of knowledge of the meaning of words and of their 
 use prevailed in all these departments. The style 
 and the language of their advertisements and 
 their reading matter generally indicate the careless 
 confidence of a people among whom there is little 
 deference, or reference, to standards of authority. 
 Competent as some of our editors are, none of our 
 newspapers receive thorough editorial supervision. 
 What is sent to them for publication would be gen- 
 erally judged by a low standard ; and of even that 
 judgement the public too frequency has not the 
 benefit. As to advertisements, every man of us 
 deems himself able to write them, with what reason 
 we shall soon see ; while in England the writing of 
 even these is generally committed to persons who 
 have some knowledge of English and some sense 
 of decorum. But here, the free, independent, and 
 intelligent American citizen produces advertise- 
 ments in which sense and decorum are set at naught 
 with an absoluteness that speaks more for his free- 
 dom and his independence than for his intelligence. 
 To pass his ordinary performances under censure 
 
4-0 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 would be trivial, if not superfluous; there is, how- 
 ever, a variety of his species, who is not unworthy 
 of attention, because he is doing much to debauch 
 the public mind — injuring it morally as well as in- 
 tellectually. This is the sensation advertiser, who 
 sometimes is a publisher, sometimes a perfumer ; at 
 others he sells fire-safes, bitters, sewing-machines, 
 buchu, houses and lands, piano- fortes, or clothes- 
 wringers. But whatever his wares, his English is 
 generally vile, and his tone always nauseous. Here 
 follows a specimen of the sort of riff-raff of lan- 
 guage that he produces. It is actually a part of a 
 long advertisement of a "real estate agent," which 
 appeared in a leading paper in the interior of New 
 York : — 
 
 " I am happy to inform my friends especially and the 
 public generally, that I have entered upon the new year "as 
 sound as a nut." My ambition is at bulkhead : my best ef- 
 forts shall be devoted to the public. I am willing to live on 
 crumbs and small fishes, and let others take the loaves and 
 sturgeon. I am still dealing largely in Real Estate. Encour- 
 aged by success in the past, I shall buckle on the harness in the 
 future. Therefore "come unto me" and I will "see" what I 
 can do for you. I am too modest to speak, even in a whisper; 
 in my own behalf, but I am willing the public should speak in 
 "thunder tones." . . . Any man who really wants to buy a 
 farm, small or large, I can suit him ; also cheap houses and lots; 
 also cheap vacant lots. ... I am also looking after the 
 soldier's interest. Let their widows, orphans, parents, etc., also 
 the poor maimed soldiers, "come unto me" for pensions, boun- 
 ties, etc., for they have my deep-bosomed sympathies. I have a 
 very cheap house, barn and very large lot, with trees, and splen- 
 did garden land, some ten rods deep, to sell at a low figure. 
 " Come and see." 
 
 This gentleman, whose "ambition is at bulk- 
 head," by which, if he meant anything, he possibly 
 meant at flood-tide, who tells any man who wants 
 
BIG WORDS FOR SMALL THOUGHTS. 4I 
 
 to buy a farm that he can suit him, also cheap 
 houses and lots, who advertises his deep-bosomed 
 sympathies, who calls garden-land splendid, and 
 who interlards his hideous attempt at humorous 
 humbug with phrases quoted from the tenderest 
 and most impressive passages of the Gospels, may, 
 nevertheless, be a decent sort of person outwardly, 
 and a shrewd man of business. Still, although we 
 may be obliged to put a murderer out of the way as 
 we would a wild beast, the murderer might be a 
 much more tolerable sort of person in daily life, and 
 work less diffusive evil than this advertiser. He is 
 sure to do some harm, and if he should be a successful 
 man, as he probably will be, he can hardly fail to do 
 a great deal. For he will then have the more imita- 
 tors. He is even now the representative of a class 
 of men which increases among us year by year — 
 men whose chief traits are greed and vulgarity, 
 who often get riches, and whose traits, when riches 
 come, are still greed and vulgarity, with the ad- 
 dition of purse-pride and vanity. Such advertis- 
 ing as his is a positive injury to public morals and 
 public taste ; and it is much to be desired that it 
 could be excluded from all respectable newspapers. 
 But of course this is as impossible as it would be to 
 exclude rude, ill-mannered people from a hotel. 
 Our only remedy is in the diffusion of a knowledge 
 of the decencies of language and of intercourse. 
 
 As a general rule, the higher the culture, the 
 simpler the style and the plainer the speech. But 
 it is equally true that, for rudeness and positive 
 coarseness in the use of language, as well as for 
 affectation and pretence, we must look to our public 
 
42 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 representatives, to the press, and to the members of 
 our various legislative bodies. Here, for instance, 
 is a paragraph from a grave and very earnest 
 leading article upon the currency, which recently 
 appeared in one of the foremost newspapers in 
 the country. The subject of the paragraph is a 
 Treasury note. 
 
 " The United States paid it out as money, and received for it 
 nearly or quite as much value as though it had been a half 
 eagle. We came honestly by it and we want it paid. Yet, if 
 we were to call on Mr. Sub-Treasurer Van Dyke and ask him to 
 fork over a half eagle and take up the rag, he would politely but 
 firmly decline." 
 
 A little racy slang may well be used in the course 
 of one's daily talk ; it sometimes expresses that 
 which otherwise would be difficult, if not impossi- 
 ble, of expression. But what is gained in this case 
 by the use of the very coarse slang "fork over" 
 and "take up the rag"? What do these phrases 
 express that is not quite as well conveyed in the 
 words cash the note, and pay the note in gold? It 
 is quite impossible to believe that this offence was 
 committed in ignorance, and equally so, I hope, 
 that it was affected with the purpose of writing down 
 to the level of a certain class of readers — a trick 
 which may win their present favor, but which, in 
 the end, they are sure to resent. It is rather to be 
 assumed that this phraseology was used only with 
 that careless indifference to the decencies of life and 
 of language which some journalists - mistake for 
 smartness. 
 
 Such a use of language as that which has just 
 been made the subject of remark, although common 
 
BIG WORDS FOR SMALL THOUGHTS. 43 
 
 in our newspapers, in Congress, in our State legis- 
 latures, and even in the pulpits of certain religious 
 denominations, is not a national peculiarity. On 
 the contrary, there are, probably, more people 
 in this country than in any other to whom such a 
 style of writing and speaking is a positive offence. 
 But the wide diffusion of just so much instruction 
 as enables men to read their newspapers, write their 
 advertisements, and keep their accounts, and the 
 utter lack of deference to any one, or of doubt in 
 themselves, which political equality and material 
 prosperity beget in people having no more than 
 such education, and no less, combine to produce a 
 condition of society which brings their style of 
 speech, as well as their manners, much more to 
 the front, not to say to the top, than is the case in 
 other countries. 
 
44 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 BRITISH ENGLISH AND "AMERICAN" ENGLISH. 
 
 IT has been frequently asserted by British critics 
 that even among the best educated people and 
 the very men of letters in the United States, the Eng- 
 lish language is neither written nor spoken with the 
 clearness and strength and the mastery of idiom that 
 are common among the people of Great Britain. 
 Boucher, in his " Glossary," speaks of "Americans" 
 as " making all the haste they can to rid themselves 
 of the [English] language ; " * and Dean Alford 
 makes a like charge in a passage of his " Queen's 
 English," which, no less for its reasoning than for 
 its assertions, deserves entire reproduction. It 
 would be ruthless to mar so complete and so ex- 
 quisite a whole. 
 
 " Look, to take one familar example, at the process of deterio- 
 ration which our Queen's English has undergone at the hands 
 of the Americans. Look at those phrases which so amuse us in 
 their speech and in their books ; at their reckless exaggeration 
 and contempt for congruitj; and then compare the character 
 and history of the nation — its blunted sense of moral obligation 
 and duty to man, its open disregard of conventional right, where 
 aggrandizement is to be obtained; and I may now say its reck- 
 less and fruitless maintenance Of the most cruel and unprin- 
 cipled war in the history of the world." 
 
 * Quoted from Scheie de Vere. Boucher's "Glossary," which was designed as a 
 supplement to Johnson's Dictionary, I have not read. 
 
BRITISH ENGLISH AND AMERICAN ENGLISH. 45 
 
 Some of our own writers, blindly following, I 
 think, blind British guides, have been misled into 
 the expression of like opinions. Mr. Lowell, in 
 the preface to his second series of the "Biglow 
 Papers," makes this damaging admission: — 
 
 " Whether it be want of culture, for the highest outcome of 
 culture is simplicity, or for whatever reason, it is certain that 
 very few American writers and speakers wield their native lan- 
 guage with the directness, precision, and force that are as com- 
 mon as the day in the mother country." 
 
 Speaking upon the careful observation of several 
 years, I cannot admit the justice of this self-accusa- 
 tion ; and I must express no little surprise at the 
 lack of qualification and reserve in Mr. Lowell's 
 language, which I can account for only by suppos- 
 ing that his opinion was formed upon an insufficient 
 examination of this subject. It is true that the 
 writers and speakers of that very large class among 
 us who are neither learned nor unlearned, and who 
 are, therefore, on the one hand without the sim- 
 plicity that comes of culture, and on the other 
 incapable of that unconscious, intuitive use of idiom 
 which gives life and strength to the simple speech 
 of very humble people, do, most of them, use lan- 
 guage awkwardly, and as if they did not feel at 
 home in their own mother tongue. If it were not 
 so, this book would lack one reason of its being. 
 But I do not hesitate to say that British writers, not 
 of the highest grade, but of respectable rank, are 
 open to the same charge ; and, moreover, that it is 
 more generally true with regard to them than with 
 regard to writers of the same position in the United 
 States. 
 
46 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 Mr. Marsh, in the last of his admirable "Lec- 
 tures on the English Language," expresses an 
 opinion which, on the whole, is more nearly like 
 that which I have formed than Mr. Lowell's, not 
 to say Dean Alford's. But Mr. Marsh himself has 
 this passage : — ■ 
 
 " In general, I think we may say that, in point of naked syn- 
 tactical accuracy, the English of America is not at all inferior to 
 that of England ; but we do not discriminate so precisely in the 
 meaning of words; nor do we habitually, either in conversation 
 or in writing, express ourselves so gracefully or employ so 
 classic a diction as the English. Our taste in language is less 
 fastidious, and our licenses and inaccuracies are more frequently 
 of a character indicative of a want of refinement and elegant 
 culture than those we hear in educated society in England." 
 
 But here Mr. Marsh himself indicates the point 
 of my objection to all these criticisms. He com- 
 pares our average speech with that of educated 
 society in the mother country. By such a com- 
 parison it would be strange if we did not suffer . 
 The just and proper comparison would be between 
 the average speech of both countries, or between 
 that of people of equal culture in both. 
 
 Among living writers few have easier mastery of 
 idiomatic English than Mr. Lowell himself; and 
 setting aside peculiar gifts, as imagination, fancy," 
 humor, many New England men of the present 
 generation and of that which is passing away 
 are of his school, if not of his form. There have 
 been abler statesmen and more accomplished law- 
 yers, but has this century produced anywhere a 
 greater rhetorical master of English than Daniel 
 Webster? While Hawthorne lived, — and his grave 
 is not yet as green as his memory, — was there a 
 
BRITISH ENGLISH AND AMERICAN ENGLISH. 47 
 
 British writer who used with greater purity or more 
 plastic power the language that we brought with 
 us from the old home? Our very kinsmen them- 
 selves, proud in their possession of the old home- 
 stead, the plate, the books, and the portraits, made 
 no such pretension ; but they settled the question 
 for their own minds, by saying that Hawthorne 
 " was not really an American writer." And Haw- 
 thorne's case is not singular in this respect. The 
 " Saturday Review," in an article upon what it calls 
 "American Literature," recently said, — 
 
 " There is very little that is American about American books, 
 if we except certain blemishes of style and a certain slovenliness 
 of grammar and clumsiness of expression derived from the colo- 
 nial idioms of the country; and these are -wanting in the best 
 American writers. Longfellow, Motley, Prescott, Washington 
 Irving are only English -writers -who happen to print in America. 
 Poe's eccentricities are rather individual than national. Cooper 
 is American in little but his choice of subjects." * 
 
 And not long ago the London " Spectator," which 
 ought to have known better, declared that it is not 
 among the eminent historians, poets, and essay- 
 ists of America that we must look for American 
 style, but to the journalists, politicians, and pam- 
 phleteers. A more ingenious way of establishino- a 
 point to one's own satisfaction than that adopted by 
 both these British critics could not be devised. 
 Proposition : The " American " style is full of blem- 
 ishes ; it is slovenly in grammar and clumsy in 
 expression. Refly: But here are certain histori- 
 ans, novelists, poets, and essayists, who are the 
 standard writers of "America," and in whose style 
 
 * I am glad to read this about Cooper. I shall fight with no one for possession of 
 his literary fame. 
 
48 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 the blemishes in question, as you yourself admit, 
 "are wanting." Rejoinder : But these are not 
 "American" writers. They are English writers 
 who happen to print in " America " The " Ameri- 
 can" writers in "America" are those only who 
 have the blemishes in question. Q^ E. D. What 
 a bewitching merry-go-round such reasoning is ! 
 And so perfect ! It stops exactly at the point from 
 which it started. 
 
 Without picking out my examplars, I will take 
 up the last two books by British authors that I have 
 read for pleasure — both by men of note — Mr. 
 John Forster's "Arrest of the Five Members," and 
 Mr. Fronde's " History of England," and turning to 
 passages which I remember noticing amid all my 
 interest in the narratives themselves, I quote ; and 
 first from Forster : — 
 
 " Since his coming to town he had been greatly pleased to 
 observe a very great alteration of the affections of the city to 
 what they had been when he went away." — p. 21. 
 
 This is not English, or at least it is English 
 wretchedly ^deformed and crippled. If the affec- 
 tions of the city were altered to what they were 
 when the person spoken of went away, it is implied 
 that there had been two changes during his absence, 
 one from the condition in which he left the city, and 
 one again to that in which he left it. We have to 
 guess that the writer meant that the person in ques- 
 tion observed a very great change in the affections 
 of the city since he went away. The blunder in 
 the bungling phrase " alteration of the affections to 
 wjiat they had been," which is a variety of the 
 phrase "different to" is peculiarly British. 
 
BRITISH ENGLISH AND AMERICAN ENGLISH. 49 
 
 The faults in the two following passages are 
 such as are found in the writings of natives of both 
 countries : — 
 
 " Nor was it possible that Charles himself should have drawn 
 any other construction from it. [Anglice, put any other con- 
 struction upon it.]" — p. 23. 
 
 " Captain Slingsby wrote, with an alarm which he hardly 
 attempts [Angl., attempted] to conceal, of the displays of man- 
 ifestations of feeling from the city." — p. 28. 
 
 Could the reverse of directness and precision, to 
 say nothing of force, have more striking example 
 than such a phrase as " the displays of manifesta- 
 tions of feeling from the city"? which we may be 
 sure any intelligent and passably educated Yankee 
 lad would change into "manifestations of feeling by 
 [or in] the city." Now let us turn to Froude, whose 
 slips will be pointed out almost without remark : — 
 
 "She [Elizabeth] gave him to understand that her course 
 was chosen at last; she would accept the Archduke, and would 
 be all -which [Angl., thai] the Emperor could desire." — Vol. 
 VIII., c. 10. 
 
 "The English Admiral was scarcely in the Channel than he 
 was driven [Angl., before he was driven] by a gale into Low- 
 estoft Roads, and was left there for a fortnight motionless." — 
 Vol. VII., c. 3. 
 
 "A husband, on receiving news of the sudden and violent 
 death of a lady in whom he had so near an interest, might have 
 been expected to have at least gone [Angl., might have been ex- 
 pected at least to go] in person to the spot." — Vol. VII., c. 4. 
 
 "The Pope might succeed, and most likely would succeed at 
 last in reconciling Spain; and experience proved that England 
 lay formidably open [Angl., perilously or alarmingly open] to 
 attack." — Vol. III., c. 14. 
 
 "At eight o'clock the advance began to move, each division 
 being attended by one hundred and twenty outriders to keep 
 stragglers into line [Angl., in line.]" — Vol. III., c. 15. 
 
 "If the tragedy of Kirk a Field had possessed a claim for 
 notice [Angl., to notice] on the first of these grounds," etc. — 
 Vol. IX., c. 13, p. 1. 
 
50 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 " Elizabeth regarded this unfortunate woman with a detesta- 
 tion and contempt beyond zvhat she had felt at the worst times 
 for Mary Stuart. [Angl., with far greater detestation and con- 
 tempt than she had ever felt for Mary Stuart.]" — Ibid., p. 21. 
 
 " — and those who were apparently as guilty as Bothwell 
 himself were yet assuming an attitude to him \_Angl., toward 
 him] at one moment of cringing subserviency [a writer of Mr. 
 Froude's grade should have said "subservience"], and at the 
 next of the fiercest indignation." — Ibid., p. 26. 
 
 " — and had Darnley proved the useful Catholic which the 
 Queen intended him to be, they would have sent him to his 
 account with as small compunction as Jael sent the Canaanite 
 captain, or they would have blessed the arm that did it -with as 
 much eloquence as Deborah." — Ibid., c. 14, p. 127. 
 
 Here, to get at the writer's meaning from what 
 he has written, we must ask, How small com- 
 punction did Jael send the Canaanite captain? and, 
 What degree of eloquence did the arm attain that 
 did it with as much as Deborah? What was it? 
 and how much eloquence is Deborah? The sen- 
 tence is so marked with slovenliness of grammar 
 and clumsiness of expression, it is so lacking in 
 directness, precision, and force, that it can be bet- 
 tered only by being almost wholly re-written. We 
 are all able to guess, but only to guess, that what 
 Mr. Froude means is, that the persons of whom he 
 speaks would have sent Darnley to his account with 
 as little compunction as Jael felt when she sent the 
 Canaanite captain to his, or would have blessed with 
 the eloquence of Deborah the arm that did their 
 pleasure. The blundering construction of which 
 this last passage furnishes such a striking example 
 is of a kind frequently met with in British writers 
 of a rank inferior to Mr. Froude's ; but it is rarely 
 found in "American" books or even in "American" 
 newspapers. From Mr. Froude I shall further 
 
BRITISH ENGLISH AND AMERICAN ENGLISH. 5 1 
 
 select only the three following passages : the first 
 containing a misuse of would and which — test 
 
 words as to the mastery of idiom — the second a 
 specimen of French English, and the third com- 
 bining a misapplication of words with a miscon- 
 struction of the sentence : — 
 
 "The Bishop of Ross undertook that his mistress -would do 
 anything -which [Angl., should do anything that] the Queen 
 of England and the nobility desired.'' — Chap. XVII. . p. 432. 
 
 •• Hepburn of Bolton, one of the last of Bothwell's servants 
 who had been brought to trial, spoke distinctly to have seen 
 [Angl., of having seen] one of them." — Chap. XV.. p. 199. 
 
 •• Edward IV., when he landed at Ravenspurg. and Elizabeth's 
 grandfather before Bosworth Field had fainter grounds to antici- 
 pate success than the fiartv who was now preparing to snatch 
 And out of the hands of revolution, and restore the ancient 
 order in Church and State." — Chap. XVII.. p. 73. 
 
 A man may be said to have grounds on which to 
 rest hope of success, or anticipation of success ; or 
 even, perhaps, grounds of anticipating success : and 
 those grounds may be strong or weak, sufficient or 
 insufficient; but such a phrase as "fainter grounds 
 to anticipate success," in its misuse of the infinitive, 
 must be pronounced slovenly, and in its vague, 
 groping way of handling a metaphor so common 
 as to be almost an idiom, clumsy. But how much 
 worse than this is the succeeding phrase, "the party 
 who was now preparing, etc.'"' ! It would have 
 been easy, it seems, to write "the party which was 
 now preparing," or, "the partv who were now pre- 
 paring." and to one of these forms Mr. Froude 
 must change his sentence if he wishes it to be Eng- 
 lish ; unless, indeed, he means to speak of the 
 Duke of Norfolk (the head of the revolution in 
 question^) as a very dangerous "party." 
 
52 WORDS AND THEIR USES, 
 
 Turning to the books and papers lying on my 
 table, I find two novels by British authors of well- 
 deserved repute. 
 
 Mr. Trollope's " Phineas Finn " is full of examples 
 of the following affected and inverted construc- 
 tion : — 
 
 " He felt that she moved him — that she made him ac- 
 knowledge to himself how great would be the pity of such a 
 failure as would be his." — Chap. LXIX. 
 
 " — one who had received so many of her smiles as had 
 Phineas." — Chap. LXXIL 
 
 The same writer, in the following sentence, falls 
 in with a vulgar perversion of aggravate, using it 
 in the sense of irritate, worry : — 
 
 "This arose partly from a belief that the quarrel was final, 
 and that therefore there would be no danger in aggravati?ig 
 Violet by this expression of pity." — Chap. LXXIII. 
 
 Mr. Charles Reade's last novel furnishes in 
 only one of its monthly parts the following sen- 
 tences : — 
 
 "Well, farmer, then lefs you and I go \_Angl., let's go, or, 
 let you and I go] by ourselves." — Put Yourself in his Place, 
 Chap. X. 
 
 "And while he hesitated, the lady asked him tvas he come 
 \_A;/gl., if he had come] to finish the bust." — Ibid. 
 
 " Ere he had thoroughly recovered the shock \_Angl., re- 
 covered from the shock] a wild cry arose." — Ibid. 
 
 Mr. Reade is one of the most vivid and dramatic 
 of modern novelists ; but are these examples of the 
 directness, precision, and force, and the mastery 
 of idiom, which are "as common as the day in the 
 mother country"? 
 
 Taking up the last London "Spectator," — a paper 
 of the very highest rank, — I find this sentence in 
 
BRITISH ENGLISH AND AMERICAN ENGLISH. 53 
 
 a careful, critical review of Lightfoot's " Saint Paul's 
 Epistle to the Galatians : " — 
 
 ' ; But we must return to the Galatians. We are called on to 
 believe that the inspiration of this letter derives from a wholly 
 different source than does that of the apostles. \_AngL, is de- 
 rived from a source wholly different from that of the apostles.]" 
 
 In the same copy of the ''Spectator,'"' I also find the 
 following amazing sentences among the quotations 
 from R Select Biographical Sketches," by William 
 Heath Bennett. The passage relates to the last 
 known instance of the infliction of ecclesiastical 
 penance in England, which took place in 1812. 
 
 <; She was herself a pauper, and her father also, but who had 
 managed to contribute to her maintenance in jail from the 
 charitv of others. This sentence of penance, although pro- 
 nounced in general terms, her friends could never obtain from 
 the ecclesiastical authorities how it was to be complied with, ex- 
 cept that she was to appear in a white sheet in the church with 
 a burning candle in her hand, and repeat some formula pre- 
 scribed by the old law." 
 
 The reviewer quotes other passages which sup- 
 port his opinion that the style of this book is slip- 
 shod and often ungrammatical. But the author 
 is a barrister at law, and might reasonablv be 
 expected to write intelligibly, if not elegantly. Had 
 he been, however, not a British, but an "American" 
 lawyer, the "Spectator" and the "Saturday Re- 
 view," the Dean of Canterbury (and shall we say 
 Mr. Lowell?) would have pronounced his style not 
 slipshod and ungrammatical, but "American" — in 
 a certain slovenliness of manner and clumsiness of 
 expression, and in a lack of precision, distinctness, 
 and force, that are as common as the day in the 
 mother countrv. How common they are the reader 
 
54 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 is now, perhaps, better prepared to say than he was 
 before he began to read this chapter. For the pas- 
 sages above quoted are selected from many that 
 were open to like censure ; and they were chosen 
 less because of the gravity of their offences against 
 the laws of the English language than because they 
 were impressive examples of the lack of the very 
 qualities which, Mr. Lowell tells us, are so common 
 in England, and the lack of which the "Saturday 
 Review," Dean Alford, and all of their sort will 
 have it, are the peculiar, the distinguishing traits 
 of those writers whom they call "American." And 
 these passages were not sought out, it should be 
 remembered ; nor are they, most of them, taken 
 from the writings of inferior men. They lay in the 
 way of every-day reading, and are from books and 
 papers of high rank in contemporary British litera- 
 ture. Yet I venture to say that it would be difficult 
 to find in the writings of "American" authors and 
 journalists of corresponding position passages in 
 which mastery of idiom, directness, precision, and 
 force are as conspicuously absent. Let us, for one 
 more example in point, turn to a British author of 
 less repute than Mr. Forster, or Mr. Froude, or Mr. 
 Charles Reade, but of respectable standing, and 
 turn to him merely because he may reasonably be 
 taken as a fair example of the British writer of 
 average literary ability and culture, and because 
 the passage which I shall quote is one of two or 
 three which I noticed while consulting the work 
 from which it is taken — the well-known Natural 
 History by the Rev. J. G. Wood, M. A., F. L. S., 
 etc., etc. 
 
BRITISH ENGLISH AND AMERICAN ENGLISH. 55 
 
 "All external objects are, in their truest sense, visible em- 
 bodiments or incarnations of divine ideas, which are roughly 
 sculptured in the hard granite that underlies the living and 
 breathing surface of the world above ; pencilled in delicate tra- 
 cery upon each bark-flake that encompasses the trunk-tree, each 
 leaf that trembles in the breeze, each petal that fills the air with 
 fragrant effluence ; assuming a living and breathing existence in 
 the rhythmic throbbings of the heart-pulse that urges the life- 
 stream through the body of every animated being; and attaining 
 their greatest perfection in man, who is thereby bound by the 
 very fact of his existence to outspeak and outact the divine 
 ideas, which are the true instincts of humanity, before they are 
 crushed or paralyzed by outward circumstances. . . . Until 
 man has learned to realize his own microcosmal being, and will 
 himself develop and manifest the god-thoughts that are con- 
 tinually inbreathed into his very essential nature, it needs that 
 the creative ideas should be incarnated and embodied in every 
 possible form, so that they may retain a living existence upon 
 earth." 
 
 Any Yankee of ordinary sense and moderately 
 cultivated taste would set this passage down as a 
 fine specimen of stilted feebleness — in its style a 
 very travesty of English. But it was written by a 
 clergyman of the English church, a graduate of one 
 of the universities, a man who has attained some 
 distinction as a naturalist, and who has half a score 
 of letters after his name. The truth is, that when 
 the English of British authors is spoken of, it is 
 not that of such writers as Mr. Wood, but that 
 of — well, of such as Forster and Froude? — let us 
 rather say of such as Macaulay, Thackeray, Helps, 
 and George Eliot, as Johnson, Burke, Hume, Gib- 
 bon, Goldsmith and Cobbett. But when British 
 critics speak of the English of "American" writers, 
 they leave out Irving, Prescott and Motley, Haw- 
 thorne, Poe and Longfellow,, as we have seen, and 
 others less known, like Lowell, Story, and Howeils, 
 
56 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 who write in the same idiom ; and they look for 
 "American" writers, not even among our thorough- 
 ly-educated men of letters of the second or third 
 rank, but to newspapers, written generally by men 
 of average common-school education, little training, 
 and no gift of language, and for the heterogeneous 
 public of the large cities of a country in which every 
 other Irish hackman and hodman keeps not only 
 his police justice, but his editor. That there are 
 journalists in this country whose English is irre- 
 proachable, no one competent to speak upon this 
 subject wdll deny. But they are they who will 
 admit most readily the justice of these strictures. 
 
 Upon the vexed question whether, on the whole, 
 English is better spoken throughout the United 
 States than throughout Great Britain, I do not deem 
 myself competent to express a decided opinion ; but 
 of this I feel sure — that of the mother tongue com- 
 mon to the people of both countries, no purer form is 
 known to the Old England than to the New. If in 
 an assemblage of a hundred educated, well-bred 
 people, one half of them from London, Oxford, and 
 Liverpool, and the other from Boston, New York, 
 and Philadelphia (and I have more than once been 
 one of a company so composed, although not so 
 large) , a ready and accurate phonographer were to 
 take down every word spoken during an evening's 
 entertainment, I feel quite sure that it would be im- 
 possible to distinguish in his printed report the speech 
 of the Britons from that of the "Americans," except 
 by the possible occurrence of acknowledged local 
 slang, or by the greater prevalence among the for- 
 mer or the latter of peculiar words, or words used in 
 
BRITISH ENGLISH AND AMERICAN ENGLISH. 57 
 
 peculiar senses, which would be acknowledged to 
 be incorrect as well by the authorities of the party 
 using them as by those of the other party. In brief, 
 their spoken language, reproduced instantly in writ- 
 ing, could be distinguished only by some confessed 
 license or defect, peculiar to one country, or more 
 prevalent there than in the other. And I am strong- 
 ly inclined to the opinion that, the assemblage being 
 made up of educated and well-bred persons, there 
 would be somewhat more slang heard from the Brit- 
 ish than from the " American " half of the company, 
 and also a greater number of free and easy devia- 
 tions from correct English speech, according to 
 British as well as " American " authority. The 
 standard in both countries is the same. 
 
 But although the written speech of these people 
 would be to this degree indistinguishable, an ear at 
 all nice in its hearing would be able to separate the 
 sheep from the goats by their bleat. The difference 
 would be one not of pronunciation (for the standard 
 of pronunciation is also the same in both countries, 
 and well-educated people in both conform to it with 
 like habitual and unconscious ease), but of pitch 
 of voice, and of inflection. Among those of both 
 countries who had been from their birth accustomed 
 to the society of cultivated people, even this dis- 
 tinction would be made with difficulty, and would, 
 in many cases, be impossible. But the majority of 
 one half hundred could thus be distinguished from 
 the majority of the other ; and the superiority would 
 be greatly on the side of the British fifty. The 
 pitch of the British Englishman's voice is higher 
 and more penetrating than the American English- 
 
53 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 man's, and his inflections are more varied than the 
 other's, because they more frequently rise. The 
 voice of the former is generally formed higher in 
 the throat than that of the latter, who speaks from 
 the chest with a graver monotone. Thackeray and 
 Goldwin Smith are characteristic examples on the 
 one side, Daniel Webster and Henry Ward Beecher 
 on the other. The distinction to a delicate ear is 
 very marked ; but other than this difference of pitch 
 and inflection there is none whatever. Pronuncia- 
 tion is exactly the same. And even in regard to 
 pitch and inflection, there is not so much difference 
 between the average British Englishman of culture 
 and the average American Englishman of like train- 
 ing, as there is between the Yorkshireman and the 
 Norfolkman ; and there is very much more difference 
 between the pronunciation and the idiom of the 
 two latter than there is between the speech of any 
 two men of the same race born and bred, however 
 remotely from each other, in this country. 
 
 In imagining my assemblage by which to test 
 speech and language, I have left altogether out of 
 mind those people who, in one country, would, for 
 instance, deal hardly with the letter /i, or turn the 
 g in "nothing" to k, and the v in "veal" to a/,* 
 although this class includes, as I have noticed, and 
 as Dean Alford confesses, some clergymen of the 
 Church of England ; and, in the other, those who 
 speak with a nasal twang, although this class in- 
 
 * Theodore Hook thus wittily illustrated this peculiar mispronunciation : — 
 "With Cockney gourmands great's the difference whether 
 At home they stay or forth to Paris go; 
 For as they linger here or wander thither, 
 The flesh of calves to thorn is weal or weau." 
 
BRITISH ENGLISH AND AMERICAN ENGLISH. 59 
 
 eludes, as we all know, some persons of similar 
 position in "America." The point is, that those who 
 would be regarded, in their own country, as among 
 the best speakers and writers, conform to precisely 
 the same standard of language in all particulars. 
 From the speech of these the variations in both 
 countries, but chiefly in England, are manifold. It 
 is in these variations, degraded or dialectic, that 
 local, or what may be called national, peculiarities 
 appear. But, in judging of the degree of purity in 
 which our mother tongue is preserved by our British 
 kinsmen, we must judge only by those among them 
 whose speech they themselves regard as pure. To 
 do otherwise would be manifestly unfair. And in 
 trying ourselves upon this point we must be careful 
 to form our opinion by a like rule of evidence ; 
 otherwise we may find ourselves condemning the 
 nation upon the language of a man who, fifteen 
 or twenty years ago, was an oysterman or a bar- 
 tender, and who, since that time, has added much 
 to his possessions, but nothing to his general knowl- 
 edge or his right use of language — a change which, 
 however profitable and pleasant it may be to his 
 children, seems in him deplorable. 
 
 Dean Alford makes merry over a story of an 
 "American friend" who ventured to speak, in Eng- 
 land, of the " strong English accent " which he heard 
 around him. The dean evidently thinks that this 
 is quite as if an Englishman were to go to France, 
 and tell the people there, in the "French of Strat- 
 ford at Bow," that they spoke with a strong French 
 accent. It is nothing of the sort. An educated 
 Genevan Frenchman, for instance, visiting Paris, 
 
bO WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 and offended, — as well he might be, — by the ac- 
 cent of the mass of the people around higa, might 
 complain of the strong Parisian accent with which 
 they spoke ; and this case would correspond to that 
 which the Dean of Canterbury has cited. Should it 
 happen, however, I doubt if a French dignitary of 
 the church would flout the objection on the ground 
 that Paris is in France and Geneva in Switzerland ; 
 for he would know, as a general truth, that lan- 
 guage belongs to race, not to place, and as a par- 
 ticular fact, that the best French is spoken at 
 Geneva. 
 
 The English. accent which Dean Alford's "Amer- 
 ican " friend noticed with implied disapproval, — 
 although common, and even general, among South 
 Britons (it rarely taints North British speech), — is 
 not heard among cultivated people, or approved by 
 any authority on either side of the water. It can 
 be described, I think, so that Dean Alford himself, 
 and most of his circle of acquaintance, — certainly 
 the best bred and educated among them, — would 
 recognize it in the description. One of the persons 
 in question asking, for instance, for a glass of ale, 
 would pronounce glass with the broad ah sound of 
 a, to rhyme with -pass, and ale as one syllable with 
 the first or name sound of a, so as to rhyme with 
 male arid sail. So would every Yankee of like 
 culture. But let our Very Reverend and accom- 
 plished censor kindly take a well-bred mouthful of 
 finely-mashed potato, and after chewing it a deco- 
 rous while, say, just as he is about swallowing it, 
 "a gloss of ayitll ;" he and the friends around him 
 will then hear a striking example of what his 
 
BRITISH ENGLISH AND AMERICAN ENGLISH. 6 1 
 
 " American " friend called English spoken with an 
 English accent, but which he should have called 
 English with a South British accent. Now, accord- 
 ing to my observation, no man, whom the Dean of 
 Canterbury would accept as a speaker of pure Eng- 
 lish, says, with thick utterance, " a gloss of ayull ; " 
 and yet thousands of his countrymen do speak 
 thus ; and this peculiarity of British English passes 
 very gradually away as social and mental culture 
 increases, until among the best bred and best edu- 
 cated people it vanishes, and is heard no more 
 than it, or a nasal twang, is heard among similar 
 people here. 
 
 One trait of English spoken with a South British 
 accent was thus whimsically contrasted with the 
 pure English accent by "Punch," a few years ago. 
 The value of the illustration is not affected by the 
 fact that the pronunciation in question was that of a 
 foreign word. The true pronunciation of the name 
 of the Italian hero of the day was mooted, and 
 "Punch" decided that it should be, — 
 
 "Garibaldi when duchesses gave him a bal, 
 Garibawldi when up goes the shout of the people." 
 
 Here we have nicely put in print a distinction 
 which all who remark the use of language, and who 
 have opportunity, must have noticed. The strong 
 tendency of the uncultivated South Briton is to give 
 to the broad a, not the sound of ah from the chest, 
 which is heard in the mouths of educated persons in 
 Old and in New England, but a thick azv, formed 
 in the upper part of the throat. The low and 
 lower-middle class London man calls Garibaldi 
 Gawribawldi, or, rather, GorribavAdi. But if the 
 
62 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 Yankee, in a similar condition of life, deviates from 
 the true Gahribahldi, he will make the vowel shorter 
 and thinner, pronouncing it as in "palace" — Gdrry- 
 baldi. The thick, throaty pronunciation of the 
 broad a is a British peculiarity ; but while it is 
 heard in the mouths of so many persons that' it 
 divides with the " exhasperated " h the honor of 
 the chief distinction of English spoken with a British 
 accent, it is as little prevalent as the extinction or 
 superfluous utterance of the latter letter is among 
 the best speakers in England, or as a nasal twang, 
 ao nt for " out," and tew for " too " are among cul- 
 tivated people in New England. Among British 
 Englishmen few but those who to a good education 
 unite the very highest social culture are perfectly 
 free from both these traits of English as spoken 
 with a British accent. 
 
 It may here be pertinently remarked that the 
 pronunciation of a in such words as glass, last, 
 father, and -pastor is a test of high culture. The 
 tendency among uncultivated persons is to give a 
 either the thick, throaty sound of aw which I have 
 endeavored to describe, or, oftenest, to give it the 
 thin, flat sound which it has in "an," "at," and 
 "anatomy." Next to that tone of voice which, it 
 would seem, is not to be acquired by any striving 
 in adult years, and which indicates breeding rather 
 than education, the full, free, unconscious utterance 
 of the broad ah sound of a is the surest indication 
 in speech of social culture which began at the 
 cradle. 
 
STYLE. 63 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 STYLE. 
 
 ACCURACY is first to be desired in writing, 
 and is worthy of careful cultivation ; for gen- 
 erally inaccurate writing is an outward sign of in- 
 accurate thinking. But when men have shown 
 that their thought is important, it is ungracious and 
 superfluous to hunt down their ifs and ands, and 
 arraign their pronouns and prepositions. This re- 
 mark would apply to some of the criticisms in the 
 previous chapter, if their special purpose were left 
 out of consideration. 
 
 Style, according to my observation, cannot be 
 taught, and can hardly be acquired. Any person 
 of moderate ability may, by study and practice, 
 learn to use a language according to its grammar. 
 But such a use of language, although necessary to 
 a good style, has no more direct relation to it than 
 her daily dinner has to the blush of a blooming 
 beauty. Without dinner, no bloom ; without gram- 
 mar, no style. The same viand which one young 
 woman, digesting it healthily and sleeping upon it 
 soundly, is able to present to us again in but a very 
 unattractive form, Gloriana, assimilating it not more 
 perfectly in slumbers no sounder, transmutes into 
 charms that make her a delight to the eyes of every 
 
64 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 beholder. That proceeding is Gloriana's physio- 
 logical style. It is a gift to her. Such a gift is 
 style in the use of language. It is mere clearness 
 of outline, beauty of form and expression, and has 
 no relation whatever to the soundness or the value 
 of the thought which it embodies, or to the im- 
 portance or the interest of the fact which it records. 
 Learned men, strong and subtle thinkers, and 
 scholars of w T ide and critical acquaintance with 
 literature, are often unable to acquire even an ac- 
 ceptably good, not to say an admirable, style ; and, 
 on the other hand, men who can read only their 
 own language, and who have received very little 
 instruction even in that, write and speak in a style 
 that wins or commands attention, and in itself gives 
 pleasure. Of these men John Bunyan is, perhaps, 
 the most marked example. Better English there 
 could hardly be, or a style more admirable for every 
 excellence, than appears throughout the writings 
 of that tinker. No person who has read "The 
 Pilgrim's Progress " can have forgotten the fight 
 of Christian with Apollyon, which, for vividness of 
 description and dramatic interest, puts to shame all 
 the combats between knights and giants, and men 
 and dragons, that can be found elsewhere in ro- 
 mance or poetry ; but there are probably many who 
 do not remember, and not a few perhaps who, in 
 the very enjoyment of it, did not notice, the clear- 
 ness, the spirit, the strength, and the simple beauty 
 of the style in which that passage is written. For 
 example, take the sentence which tells of the be- 
 ginning of the fight : — 
 
STYLE. 65 
 
 " Then Apollyon straddled quite over the whole breadth of the 
 way, and said, I am void of fear in this matter : prepare thyself 
 to die ; for I swear by my infernal Den that thou shalt go no 
 further : here will I spill thy soul." 
 
 A man cannot be taught to write like that ; nor 
 can he by any study learn the mystery of such a 
 style. 
 
 Style, however, although it cannot be taught, is, 
 to a certain extent, the result of mental training. A 
 man who would write well without training, would 
 write, not more clearly or with more strength, but 
 with more elegance, if he were educated. But 
 he will profit little in this respect by the study of 
 rhetoric. It is general culture — above all, it is the 
 constant submission of a teachable, apprehensive 
 mind to the influence of minds of the highest class, 
 in daily life and in books, that brings out upon 
 lang;uage its daintiest bloom and its richest fruitage. 
 So in the making of a fine singer : after the voice 
 has been developed, and the rudiments of vocaliza- 
 tion have been learned, further instruction is' of little 
 avail. But the frequent hearing of the best music, 
 given by the best performers, the living in an at- 
 mosphere of art and literature, will develop and 
 perfect a vocal style in one who has the gift of 
 song ; and for any other, all the instruction of all 
 the musical professors that ever came out of Italy 
 could do no more than teach an avoidance of posi- 
 tive errors in musical elocution. But, after all, the 
 student's style may profit little by his acquirements. 
 
 Unconsciousness is one of the most important 
 conditions of a good style in speaking or in writing. 
 There are persons who write well and speak ill; 
 
 5 
 
66 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 others who write ill and speak well ; and a few who 
 are equally excellent as writers and speakers. As 
 both writing and speaking are the expression of 
 thought through language, this capacity for the one, 
 joined to an incapacity for the other, is naturally the 
 occasion of remark, and has, I believe, never been 
 accounted for. I think that it will be found that 
 consciousness, which generally causes more or less 
 embarrassment of one kind or another, is at the 
 bottom of this apparent incongruity. The man who 
 writes in a clear and fluent style, but who, when he 
 undertakes to speak, more than to say yes or no, 
 or what he would like for dinner, hesitates, and 
 utters confusion, does so because he is made self- 
 conscious by the presence of others when he speaks, 
 but gives himself unconsciously to the expression 
 of his thought when he looks only upon the paper 
 on which he is writing. He who speaks with ease 
 and grace, but who writes in a crabbed, involved 
 style, forgets himself when he looks at others, and 
 is occupied by himself when he is alone. His con- 
 sciousness, and his effort that he makes, on the one 
 hand to throw it off, and on the other to meet its 
 demands upon him, confuse his thoughts, which 
 throng, and jostle, and clash, instead of moving 
 steadily onward with one consent together. 
 
 Mere unconsciousness has much to do with the 
 charming style of many women's letters. Women's 
 style, when they write books, is generally bad with 
 all the varieties of badness ; but their epistolary 
 style is as generally excellent in all the ways of ex- 
 cellence. A letter written by a bright, cultivated 
 woman, — and she need not be a highly educated, 
 
STYLE. 67 
 
 or a much instructed woman, but merely one whose 
 intercourse is with cultivated people, — and written 
 merely to tell you something that interests her and 
 that she wishes } 7 ou to know, with much care about 
 what she says, and no care as to how she says it, 
 will, in twelve cases out of the baker's dozen, be 
 not only irreproachably correct in expression, but 
 very charming. Some literary women, though few, 
 are able to carry this clear, fluent, idiomatic English 
 style into their books. Mrs. Jameson, Charlotte 
 Bronte, and perhaps George Eliot (Miss Evans), 
 are prominent instances in point. Mrs. Trollope's 
 book, "The Domestic Manners of the Americans," 
 which made'her name known, and caused it to be 
 detested, unjustly, in this country,* is written in 
 this delightful style — easy-flowing and clear, like 
 a beautiful stream, reflecting from its placid surface 
 whatever it passes by, adding in the reflection a 
 charm to the image which is not in the object, and 
 distorting only when it is dimpled by ga} 7 ety or 
 crisped by a flaw of satire or a ripple of humor. 
 Its style alone will reward its perusal. It may be 
 studied to advantage and emulated, but not imitated ; 
 for all about it that is worthy of emulation is in- 
 imitable. Mr. Anthony Trollope's mastery of our 
 language is inherited ; but he has not come into 
 possession of quite all the maternal estate. 
 
 For at least a hundred years the highest reputa- 
 
 * Unjustly, because all of Mrs. Trollope's descriptions were true to life, and were 
 evidently taken from life. She, however, described only that which struck hjr as 
 peculiar ; and hsr acquaintance with the country was made among the most unculti- 
 vated people, and chiefly in the extreme South-west and West, thirty-five years ago ; 
 which was much like going into "the bush" of Australia ten years ago. With 
 society in New York, Boston, and Philadelphia Mrs. Trollope was charmed ; but of 
 it she, apparently for that reason, says comparatively little. 
 
68 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 tion for purity of style in the writing of English 
 prose has been Addison's. Whether or not he 
 deserves, or ever did deserve, the eminence upon 
 which he has been placed, he certainly is one of 
 the most elegant and correct writers of the last cen- 
 tury. Johnson's formal and didactic laudation, with 
 which he rounds off his criticism of this author, 
 "whoever wishes to attain an English style, familiar 
 but not coarse, and elegant but not ostentatious, 
 must give his days and nights to the volumes of 
 Addison," has been worth a great deal to the book- 
 sellers, and has stimulated the purchase of countless 
 copies of "The Spectator," and, let us hope, the 
 perusal of not a few. But in the face of so weighty 
 a judgment, let us test Addison, not merely by 
 comparison with other writers, but by the well- 
 established rules of the language, and by those laws 
 of thought the governing power of which is admitted 
 in every sound and educated intellect, and to which 
 every master of style unconsciously conforms. See- 
 ing thus what manner of man he is who has been 
 held up to three generations as the bright exemplar 
 of purity, correctness, and grace in English style, 
 we may intelligently determine what we can rea- 
 sonably expect of the great mass of unpretending 
 writers in our hard-working days. 
 
 1 have been led to this examination by recently 
 reading, for the first time, the "Essay upon the 
 Pleasures of the Imagination," which runs through 
 ten numbers of the "Spectator,"* and which is one 
 of Addison's most elaborate performances. Bishop 
 Hurd says of it, in his edition of this author's writ- 
 
 * Nos. 411 to 421. 
 
STYLE. 69 
 
 ings, that it is "by far the most masterly of all Mr. 
 Addison's critical works," and that "the style is 
 finished with so much care as to merit the best 
 attention of the reader." 
 
 The first number of the Essay appeared on Satur- 
 day, June 21, 171 2, with a motto from Lucretius, 
 which intimates that Mr. Addison broke his own 
 path across a trackless country to drink from an 
 untasted spring.* This should excuse some devia- 
 tion from the line of our now well-beaten road of 
 criticism ; but there are other errors for which it is 
 no apology. The first sentence tells us that "our 
 sight is the most perfect and delightful of all our 
 senses." A careless use of language, to begin with ; 
 for sight is not more perfect than any other sense. 
 Perfect hearing is just as perfect as perfect sight ; 
 that is, it is simply perfect. But passing by this as 
 a venial error, we find the third sentence beginning 
 thus : — 
 
 " The sense of feeling can indeed give us a notion of extension, 
 shape, and all other ideas that enter at the eye, except colours." 
 
 Now, we may be sure that Addison did not mean 
 to say what he does say — that the sense of feeling 
 can give us the notion of ideas, and that colors are 
 an idea. His meaning, we may be equally sure 
 was this : The sense of feeling can indeed give us 
 a notion of extension and tf/*shape, and every other 
 idea that can enter at the eye, except that of color. 
 A little farther on we find this explanation of the 
 subject of his Essay : — 
 
 * "Avia Pieridum pcragere loca, nuliius ante 
 Trita solo : juvat intcgros accedere fonteis, 
 Atque haurira." 
 
70 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 " — so that by the pleasures of imagination or of fancy (which 
 I shall use promiscuously), I here mean such as arise from visi- 
 ble objects." 
 
 Here the strange confounding of imagination 
 with fancy — faculties which had been clearly dis- 
 tinguished a hundred years before the time of Addi- 
 son — first attracts attention. But not insisting upon 
 that mistake, let us pass on to learn immediately that 
 he means to use the pleasures of those faculties 
 promiscuously. But he manifestly intended to say 
 that he would use the words imagination and fancy 
 promiscuously. The confusion in his sentence is 
 produced by his first mentioning the faculties, and 
 then using " which " to refer, not to the faculties, 
 but to the words which are their names. Again 
 he says, — 
 
 " — but we have the power of retaining, altering, and com- 
 pounding those images which we have once received into all 
 the varieties of picture and vision that are most agreeable to the 
 imagination." 
 
 Did Addison mean that we have the power of 
 "retaining images into" all the varieties of picture, 
 and so forth? Certainly not ; although that is what 
 he says. Here again is confusion of thought. He 
 groups together and connects by a conjunction 
 three verbs, — retain, alter, and compound, — only 
 two of which can be united to the same preposition. 
 This fault is often committed by writers who do not 
 think clearly, or who will not take the trouble to 
 perfect and balance their sentences by repeating a 
 word or two, and by looking after the fitness of their 
 particles. What Addison meant to say was, — but 
 we have the power of retaining those images which 
 
STYLE. 71 
 
 ive have once received, and of altering and com- 
 pounding them into all the varieties of picture, 
 and so forth. A few lines below we find this 
 sentence : — 
 
 " There are few words in the English language which are em- 
 ployed in a more loose and uncircumscribed sense than those of 
 the fancy and imagination." 
 
 The confusion here is great and of a very vulgar 
 kind. It is produced by the superfluous words 
 " those of the." Addison meant to say — in a more 
 loose and uncircumscribed sense, not than the words 
 of the fancy and imagination, but than fancy and 
 imagination. In the same paragraph which fur- 
 nishes the foregoing example, the writer says, Cf I 
 divide these pleasures in two kinds." It is English 
 to say, I divide these pleasures into two kinds. The 
 next paragraph opens thus : — 
 
 " The pleasures of the imagination, taken in their full extent, 
 are not so gross as those of sense, nor so refined as those of the 
 understanding." 
 
 Here again is confusion produced by a careless 
 use of language — careless even to blundering. 
 Addison did not mean to speak of taking pleasures, 
 either of the imagination, the sense, or the under- 
 standing. If he had written — The pleasures of 
 imagination, regarded, or considered, in their full 
 extent, are not so gross, and so forth — he would 
 have uttered what the whole context shows to have 
 been his thought. The next paragraph makes the 
 following assertions in regard to what is called a 
 man "of polite imagination : " — 
 
 *' He meets with a secret refreshment in a description, and 
 often feels a greater satisfaction in the prospect of fields and 
 
72 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 meadows than another does in the possession. It gives him, 
 indeed, a kind of property in everything he sees, and makes the 
 most rude and uncultivated parts of Nature administer to his 
 pleasures ; so that he looks upon the world, as it were, in 
 another light, and discovers in it a multitude of charms that 
 conceal themselves from the generality of mankind." 
 
 The first of these sentences is imperfect. We 
 may be sure that the writer means that his man of 
 polite imagination feels a greater satisfaction in the 
 prospect of fields and meadows than another does 
 in the possession of them. But he does not say so. 
 Nor by any rule or usage of the English language 
 are the preposition and pronoun implied or under- 
 stood ; for the sentence might just as well end — 
 " than, another does in the possession of great 
 riches." And what does the author mean by say- 
 ing that his politely imaginative man looks upon 
 the world "in another light"? Another than what? 
 No other is mentioned or implied. The writer was 
 referring to an idea which he had in mind, but 
 which he had not expressed ; and we can only 
 guess that he meant — another light than that in 
 which the world is regarded by men of impolite 
 imagination. The same sort of confusion appears 
 in the first sentence of the very next paragraph : — 
 
 " There are, indeed, but very few who know how to be idle 
 and innocent, or have a relish of pleasures that are not criminal ; 
 every diversion they take is at the expense of some one virtue 
 or another." 
 
 Here, in the first place, by neglecting to repeat 
 who, Addison says that there are very few men who 
 know how to have a relish of pleasures that are not 
 criminal ; whereas, he manifestly meant to say that 
 there are very few who know how to be idle and 
 
STYLE. 73 
 
 innocent, or who have a relish of pleasures that are 
 not criminal. But the chief blunder of the sentence 
 is in its next clause. Who are " they " who are said 
 to take every diversion at the expense of some vir- 
 tue ? According to the writer's purpose, " they " has 
 really no antecedent. Its antecedent, as the sen- 
 tence stands, is, "very few who know how to be idle 
 and innocent ; " but these, the writer plainly means 
 to say, are they who do not take their diversion at the 
 expense of some virtue. By " they " Addison meant 
 the many from whom he had in his own mind sep- 
 arated the ver} 7 few of whom only he spoke ; and 
 he thus involved himself and his readers in a con- 
 fusion which is irremediable without a recasting of 
 his sentence. All these marked faults of style — 
 faults which are not examples of mere inelegance, 
 but of positively bad English and confused thought 
 — occur within three duodecimo pages. It might 
 possibly be suggested that perhaps Addison wrote 
 this particular number of "The Spectator" when 
 the usual mellowness of his style had been spirited 
 into his brain.* But, on the contrary, similar ex- 
 amples of slovenly writing may be found all through 
 those charming " Spectators " to which Johnson 
 refers us as models of English st} T le. Let us see. 
 Here is the third sentence in "Spectator" 405, a 
 musical criticism apropos of Signor Nicolini's sing- 
 ing ; for Addison, as well as Guizot, wrote art 
 criticisms for the daily press. 
 
 * Bishop Hurd says of this Essay, 'Some inaccuracies of expression have, how- 
 ever, escaped the elegant writer ; and these, as we go along, shall be pointed out." 
 But it is important to our puipose to mention that not one of the inaccurate and con- 
 fused passages noticed above is pointed out by the editor, who calls attention to but 
 one or two trifling lapses in mere elegance of expression. 
 
74 WORDS AND THEIR USES 
 
 " I could heartily wish there was the same application and 
 endeavours to cultivate and improve our church-musick as have 
 been lately bestowed on that of the stage." 
 
 It would not be easy to construct an intelligible 
 sentence, without burlesque, that would be more 
 blundering than this one is. To begin : " I could 
 heartily wish " is nonsense. A man wishes, or he 
 does not wish. But to pass by this feeble and 
 affected phrase, which is too commonly used, the 
 writer wishes that there " was the same application 
 and endeavors," etc., " as have been" etc. He says 
 neither "was" and "has been," nor "were" and 
 " have been." He should have used the plural form 
 of each verb, of course ; but he contrived to get into 
 his sentence all the errors of which it was capable. 
 Besides, the use of the pronoun "that" is extremely 
 awkward, even if, indeed, it be correct. For, 
 as the sentence stands, "that" refers to "church 
 music," and the writer really speaks of the endeavors 
 which have been bestowed " on the church music of 
 the stage." He should have written either — church 
 music and stage music, or music of the church and 
 that of the stage ; of which constructions the latter 
 is the better. The sentence may, therefore, be 
 correctly written (it cannot be made graceful or 
 elegant) thus : I heartily wish that there were the 
 same application and endeavors to cultivate and im- 
 prove the music of the church as have lately been 
 bestowed on that of the stage. 
 
 In "Spectator" No. 381 is the following sen- 
 tence : — 
 
 " The tossing of a tempest does not discompose him, which 
 he is sure will bring him to a joyful harbour." 
 
STYLE. 75 
 
 The use of which in this sentence is like that 
 which Mr. Dickens has so humorously caricatured 
 in the speech of Mrs. Gamp ; indeed, the sentence 
 is almost in her style, or that of her invisible gossip, 
 Mrs. Harris. Addison meant to say — The tossing 
 of a tempest does not discompose him who is sure 
 that it will bring him to a joyful harbor. 
 
 In this sentence, from "Spectator" No. 21, ven- 
 ture is used for allow : — 
 
 " — as a man would be well enough pleased to buy silks of 
 one whom he would not venture to feel his pulse." 
 
 And what shall be said of the correctness of a 
 writer who couples the separative each with the 
 plural are, as Addison does in the following passage 
 from " Spectator " No. 21 ? 
 
 " When I consider how each of these professions are crowded 
 with multitudes that seek their livelihoods in them," etc. 
 
 That slovenly writing is the birth-form of careless 
 thinking, could hardly be more clearly shown than 
 by the following example, from "Spectator" No. 
 in : — 
 
 "That cherubim which now appears as a god to a human 
 soul knows very well that the period will come above in eternity, 
 when the human soul shall be as perfect as he himself now is; 
 nay, when she shall look down upon that degree of perfection as 
 much as she now falls short of it." 
 
 If Addison did not know that cherubim was the 
 plural of cherub, and that he should have used the 
 latter word, there is at least no excuse for the last 
 clause of the sentence, which is chaotic. He would 
 have expressed his meaning if he had written — - 
 Nay, when she shall look down upon that degree 
 
76 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 of perfection as much as she now looks uf to it ; or, 
 better — Nay, when she shall find herself as much 
 above that degree of perfection as she now falls 
 short of it. 
 
 With two more examples I must finish this ar- 
 ray. Speaking of Sir Andrew Freeport, Addison 
 says, — 
 
 " — but in the temper of mind he was then, he termed them 
 mercies, favours of Providence, and blessings upon honest in- 
 dustry." — Spectator, No. 549. 
 
 Explaining a pasquinade, he writes, — 
 
 " This was a reflection upon the Pope's sister, who, before the 
 promotion of her brother, was in those circumstances that Pas- 
 quin represented her." — Spectator, No. 23. 
 
 It would be superfluous either to point out or to 
 correct the gross errors in these passages — errors 
 which are worthy of notice as examples of blunders 
 peculiarly British in character. Errors of this kind 
 are not unfrequently met with in the writing or 
 the speech of the middling folk among our British 
 cousins at the present day ; but on this side of the 
 water they seldom occur, if ever. Our faults are 
 of another sort ; and they appear in the casual 
 writings of inferior journalists, who produce at night 
 what must be printed before morning, or in those 
 of authors who attain not even to local reputa- 
 tion. It would be difficult to match with examples 
 from American writers of even moderate distinc- 
 tion such sentences as the following, which appear 
 in Brougham's appreciation of Talleyrand : — 
 
 "Among the eminent men who figured in the eventful history 
 of the French revolution was M. Talleyrand; and whether in 
 that scene, or in any portion of modern annals, we shall in 
 
STYLE. 77 
 
 vain look for one who represents a more interesting subject of 
 history." 
 
 What a muddle of thoughts and words is here ! 
 Talleyrand figured in the French revolution, not in 
 the history of that event. It may be correctly said 
 of him that he figures in the history of the French 
 revolution ; but whether this is what Brougham 
 meant to say, the latter clause of the sentence makes 
 it impossible to discover. For there "scene" which 
 refers to the event itself, and " annals" which refers 
 to the record of events, are confounded ; and we are 
 finally told that a man who figured in an eventful 
 history represents an interesting subject of history ! 
 Within a few lines of this sentence we have the one 
 here following : — 
 
 " He sided with the revolution, and continued to act with 
 them, joining those patriotic members of the clerical body who 
 gave up their revenues to the demand of the country, and sacri- 
 ficed their exclusive privileges to the rights of the community." 
 
 With whom did Talleyrand continue to act? 
 What is the antecedent of "them"! It has none. 
 It refers to what is not expressed, and, except in 
 the mind of the writer, not understood — the revo- 
 lutionary clergy ; and I have quoted the whole of 
 the sentence, that this might appear from its second 
 clause. And yet Henry Brougham was one of the 
 men who achieved the splendid early reputation of 
 the "Edinburgh Review." 
 
 But to what conclusion are we tending? If not 
 only Brougham's but Addison's sentences thus break 
 down under such criticism as we apply to the ex- 
 ercises of a school-boy, — Addison, of whose style 
 we are told by Johnson, in Johnsonian phrase, that 
 
78 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 it is " pure without scrupulosity and exact without 
 apparent elaboration," — to whom shall we look as a 
 model writer of prose, who can be our standard and 
 authority as to a pure English style ? Clearly not 
 to the principal writer of "The Spectator." For, 
 although he may have been without either scrupu- 
 losity or elaboration, he was also quite as plainly 
 often without both purity and exactness. Such 
 faults of style as those which are above pointed out 
 in the writings of Addison are not to be found, I 
 believe, in Shakespeare's prose, in Bacon's, or in 
 Milton's ; but they do appear in Dryden's. They 
 will be looked for in vain, if I may trust my mem- 
 ory, in the works of Goldsmith, Johnson, Hume, 
 Gibbon, Hallam, Jeffrey, Macaulay, Irving, Pres- 
 cott, Ruskin, Motley, and Hawthorne. Addison, 
 appearing at a time when English literature was at 
 a very low ebb, made an impression which his 
 writings would not now produce, and won a repu- 
 tation which was then his due, but which has long 
 survived his comparative excellence. Charmed by 
 the gentle flow of his thought, — which, neither deep 
 nor strong, neither subtle nor struggling with the 
 obstacles of argument, might well flow easily, — 
 by his lambent humor, his playful fancy (he was 
 very slenderly endowed with imagination), and the 
 healthy tone of his mind, the writers of his own 
 generation and those of the succeeding half century 
 placed him upon a pedestal, in his right to which 
 there has since been almost unquestioning acqui- 
 escence. He certainly did much for English litera- 
 ture, and more for English morals and manners, 
 which, in his day, were sadly in need of elevation 
 
STYLE. 79 
 
 and refinement. But, as a writer of English, he is 
 not to be compared, except with great peril to his 
 reputation, to at least a score of men who have 
 flourished in the present century, and some of whom 
 are now living. And from this slight examination 
 of the writings of him whom the world has for so 
 long accepted as the acknowledged master of Eng- 
 lish prose, and who attained his eminence more by 
 the beauty of his style than the value of the thought 
 of which it was the vehicle, we may learn the true 
 worth and place of such criticisms as those which 
 have preceded these remarks. Their value is in 
 their fitness for mental discipline. Their place is 
 the class-room. 
 
8o WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 MISUSED WORDS. 
 
 THE right use of words is not a matter to be 
 left to pedants and pedagogues. It belongs 
 to the daily life of every man. The misuse of 
 words confuses ideas, and impairs the value of lan- 
 guage as a medium of communication. Hence loss 
 of time, of money, and sore trial of patience. It is 
 significant that we call a quarrel a misunderstand- 
 ing. How many lawsuits have ruined both plaintiff 
 and defendant, how many business connections have 
 been severed, how many friendships broken, be- 
 cause two men gave to one word different mean- 
 ings ! The power of language to convey one man's 
 thoughts and purposes to another, is in direct pro- 
 portion to a common consent as to the meaning of 
 words. The moment divergence begins, the value 
 of language is impaired ; and it is impaired just in 
 proportion to the divergence, or to the uncertainty 
 of consent. It has been told, as evidence of the 
 richness of certain Eastern languages, that they 
 have one thousand words, more or less, for the sword, 
 and at least one hundred for the horse. But this, 
 unless the people who use these languages have a 
 thousand kinds of swords and a hundred kinds of 
 horses, is no proof of wealth in that which makes 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 01 
 
 the real worth of of language. A highly civilized 
 and cultivated people having a language adequate 
 to their wants will be rich in words, because they 
 will need names for many thoughts, and many 
 acts, and many things. Parsimony in this respect 
 is a sign, not of prudence, but of poverty. Juli- 
 ana, passing her honeymoon in the cottage to 
 which her ducal bridegroom leads her, flouts his 
 assurance that the furniture is useful, with the re- 
 ply, conveying a sneer at his supposed poverty, 
 "Yes, very useful; there's not a piece of it but 
 serves a hundred uses." So, when we find in a lan- 
 guage one word serving many needs, we may be 
 sure that that language is the mental furniture of 
 an intellectually rude and poverty-stricken people. 
 The Feejee islanders ate usually pig, but they 
 much preferred man, both for his flavor and his 
 rarity; and as we call pig prepared for table pork, 
 and deer in a like condition venison, so those poor 
 people called their loin or ham " short pig," and 
 their daintier human haunch or saddle "long pig." 
 Archbishop Trench, assuming that there was in the 
 latter name an attempt at a humorous concealment 
 of the nature of the viand to which it was applied, 
 finds in this attempt evidence of a consciousness of 
 the revolting character of cannibalism. But this 
 seems to be one of those pieces of fanciful and over- 
 subtle moral reflection which, coming gracefully 
 enough from a clergyman, have added to the popu- 
 larity of Trench's books, although hardly to their 
 real value. The poor Feejeeans called all meat 
 pig, distinguishing two sorts only by the form of the 
 animal from which it was taken, merelv because of 
 
82 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 the rude and embryotic condition of their language, 
 just as a little child calls all fur and velvet " pussy- 
 cat." The child knows as well as its mother that 
 her muff or her gown has not four legs, claws, 
 whiskers, and a tail ; and it has no purpose of 
 concealing that knowledge. But its poverty of 
 language enables it to speak of the muff and the 
 velvet gown only by a name which expresses (to 
 the child) the quality which the muff, the gown, 
 and the animal have in common. 
 
 A neglect to preserve any well-drawn distinction 
 between thoughts or things by w r ords is, just so far, 
 a return toward barbarism in language. In the 
 London " Times's " report of the revolting scene in 
 front of the gallows on which Muller (he who killed 
 a fellow-passenger in a railway carriage) was 
 hanged, it was said that many of the spectators, 
 knowing that if they would get a good place they 
 must wait a long while to see -the show, came pro- 
 vided with "jars of beer." Now, we may be sure 
 that there was not a jar in all that crowd. A jar, 
 which is a wide-mouthed earthen vessel without a 
 handle, would be a most unsuitable and cumbrous 
 vessel on such an occasion and in such a place ; 
 and besides, beer is neither kept in jars, nor drunk 
 from them, The "Times's" reporter, who is said 
 to have been, on this occasion, a man of letters of 
 some reputation, meant, doubtless, tankards, pots, 
 jugs, or pitchers. Of household vessels for con- 
 taining fluids we have in English good store of 
 names nicely distinctive of various forms and uses ; 
 and there seems to be a chance that we shall lose 
 some of them, through either the ignorance or the 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 83 
 
 indolence of writers and speakers like the Times's 
 reporter. It is not long since every lady in the 
 land had, as Gremio said that Bianca should have, 
 "basins and ewers to lave her dainty hands," 
 although not of gold, as that glib-tongued lover 
 promised. But now we are all, with few excep- 
 tions, content to use a bowl and pitcher. The 
 things are the same, only they are handsomer ; but 
 we have, many of us at least, given up the distinc- 
 tion between bowl and basin, and common pitcher 
 and ewer, and so far we have retrograded in civil- 
 ity. Some British writers and speakers say " a 
 basin of bread and milk." We may be sure they 
 mean a bowl, for a basin is an uncomfortable vessel 
 to eat from. But if they mean a bowl, they should 
 say a bowl ; for although we have dropped -por- 
 ringer except in poetry (yet there are men living 
 who, in their childhood, have talked of porringers 
 as well as eaten out of them) , we may as well try 
 to preserve some distinction between the names of 
 our domestic utensils, unless, emulating the sim- 
 plicity of the Feejeeans in their short pig and long 
 pig, we call them all, for example, cup, and say 
 short cup, long cup, high cup, low cup, big cup, 
 little cup, deep cup, shallow cup. 
 
 Our British kinsmen have, during the last fifty 
 or perhaps hundred years, fallen into the use of a 
 peculiar misnomer in this respect. They, without 
 exception, I believe, talk of the water jug and the 
 milk jug, meaning the vessels in which water and 
 milk are served at table. Now, those vessels are 
 not jugs, but pitchers. A jug is a vessel having a 
 small mouth, a swelling belly, and a small ear or 
 
84 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 handle near the mouth ; and this, we know, is never 
 used at table : a pitcher is a vessel with a wide 
 mouth, a protruding lip, and a large ear ; and 
 this we know that they, as well as we, do use at 
 table for milk and for water. The thing has had 
 the name for centuries. Hence the old saying that 
 little pitchers (not little jugs) are all mouth and 
 ears. Little pitchers, from the physical necessity 
 of their shape and proportion, must be all mouth 
 and ears ; little jugs have mouths and ears in pro- 
 portion to their size. This word, by the by, is the 
 best test, if indeed it is not the only sure test, of the 
 nationality of a cultivated man of English blood, — 
 for as to the uncultivated, no nice test is needed. 
 Been and bin, sick and ill, drive and ride, a quarter- 
 to twelve and a quarter of twelve o'clock, railway 
 station and railroad despot, even pitch and inflec- 
 tion of voice, may fail to mark the distinction ; but 
 if a man asks for the milk jug, be sure that he is 
 British bred ; if for the milk pitcher, be equally 
 sure that he is American.* But perhaps some peo- 
 ple are quite indifferent whether or no it is said that 
 they sip their coffee out of a jar, drink their beer 
 from a vase, and put their flowers into a jug. Such 
 readers will not be at all interested in the following 
 remarks upon the misuse of certain English words. 
 It is not my purpose in these remarks to notice 
 
 * As to the use of ill for sick, and drive for ride, see pages 192, 196. Since this 
 passage was written, I have had a remarkable confirmation of its truth in the language 
 of a lady born and bred in London, who spoke, with entire unconsciousness of her ex- 
 cellence, the most beautiful English I ever heard even among her countrywomen, 
 however high their breeding or their culture — beautiful in idiom, in pronunciation, in 
 enunciation, and in quality and inflection of voice. She, being entirely ignorant of any 
 question upon these points, and thoughtless about her speech, said, "I have been sick 
 with a cold;" "I have enjoyed the ride" (in a carriage); but even she asked the 
 servant to bring "a jug of water." 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 85 
 
 slang, but I shall notice cant. Between the two, 
 although they are often confounded, there is a clear 
 distinction. 
 
 Slang is a vocabulary of genuine words or un- 
 meaning jargon, used always with an arbitrary and 
 conventional signification, and generally with hu- 
 morous intent. It is mostly coarse, low, and fool- 
 ish, although in some cases, owing to circumstances 
 of the time, it is racy, pungent, and pregnant of 
 meaning. Cant is a phraseology composed of gen- 
 uine words soberly used by some sect, profession, 
 or sort of men, in one legitimate sense, which they 
 adopt to the exclusion of others as having peculiar 
 virtue, and which thereby becomes peculiar to them- 
 selves. Cant is more or less enduring, its use 
 continuing, with no variation of meaning, through 
 generations. Slang is very evanescent. It gen- 
 erally passes out of use and out of mind in the course 
 of a few years, and often in a few months. 
 
 Abortive. — A ridiculous perversion of this word 
 is creeping into use through the newspapers. For 
 example, I read in one, of large circulation and 
 high position, that "a young Spaniard yesterday 
 abortively seized two pieces of alpaca." That is 
 abortive which is untimely in its birth, which has 
 not been borne its full time ; and, by figure of 
 speech, anything is abortive which is brought out 
 before it is well matured. A plan may be abortive, 
 but an act cannot. It would be a weak waste of 
 time to notice such ludicrous, writing as that above 
 quoted, were there not among journalists, and gen- 
 erally among that vast multitude who think it fine 
 to use a word which they do not quite understand, 
 
86 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 a tendency to the use of abortion to mean failure in 
 all its kinds and all its stages. 
 
 Adopt. — A very strange perversion of this word 
 from its true meaning prevails among some un- 
 lettered folk, generally of Irish birth, whose misuse 
 of it is daily seen in the Personal Advertisements 
 in the New York "Herald." Thus, "Wanted to 
 Adopt — A beautiful and healthy female infant." 
 The advertisers mean that they wish to have the 
 children mentioned in their advertisements adopted. 
 In speaking of the transaction, their phrase is that 
 the child is " adopted out," or, that such and such a 
 woman " adopted out" her child. The perversion, 
 it may be said inversion, of this word, is worth no- 
 ticing because upon the misuse of adopt in these 
 advertisements, travellers and foreign writers have 
 founded an argument against the reproductive pow- 
 er of the European races in this country. From 
 the man}' advertisements "Wanted to Adopt," it 
 has been inferred that the advertisers were childless 
 and hopeless of children ; how unjustifiably will 
 appear by the following example, which appeared 
 a few da} r s ago : — 
 
 "A lady having two boys would like to adopt one. Inquire 
 for two days at 228 Sullivan Street." 
 
 This lady, quite surely an Irish emigrant peasant 
 woman, wished to rid herself of one of her children. 
 
 Affable. — A use of this word, which has a 
 very ludicrous effect to those for whom it has the 
 signification given to it by the best English usage, 
 is becoming somewhat common in newspaper cor- 
 respondence and accounts of what are therein called 
 "receptions" and "ovations." It means, literally, 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 8j 
 
 ready to speak, easily approachable in conversation. 
 But by the usage of the best writers and speakers, 
 and by common consent, it has been limited to the 
 expression of an easy, courteous, and considerate 
 manner on the part of persons of superior position 
 to their inferiors. A king may be affable, as Charles 
 II. was to his attendants ; and so may a nobleman 
 be to a laborer. Dr. Johnson at the height of his 
 career might have been affable to a penny-a-liner, 
 but he wasn't. General Washington was not affa- 
 ble, but Aaron Burr was. Milton calls Raphael 
 "the affable archangel," and makes Adam say to 
 him, as he is about departing heavenward, — 
 
 " Gentle to me and affable hath been 
 Thy condescension, and shall be honored ever 
 With grateful memory." 
 
 But in "American" newspapers we now read of 
 affable hotel-keepers and affable steamboat cap- 
 tains ; and we are told that Mrs. Bullions, at her 
 "elegant and recherche reception," although mov- 
 ing in a blaze of diamonds, tempered by a cloud 
 of -point de Vcnise lace, was "very affable to her 
 guests." Far be it from me to suppose that there 
 may be a difference between a hotel-keeper and an 
 archangel, or to hint that the true sense of this word 
 may be preserved in this usage by there being the 
 same distance between a steamboat captain and a 
 reporter that there was between Raphael and Adam. 
 That suggestion is made by the reporters themselves. 
 Perhaps this usage is one of the signs of the level- 
 ling power of democracy, and affability is about 
 passing away among the vanished graces. 
 
 Aggravate is misused by many persons ig- 
 
bd WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 norantly, and, in consequence, by many others 
 thoughtlessly, in the sense of provoke, irritate, 
 anger. Thus : He aggravates me by his impu- 
 dence — meaning he angers me: Her martyr-like 
 airs were very aggravating — the right word being 
 irritating. The following example is from an 
 elaborate article in the critical columns of a critical 
 paper of high pretensions: "This lovely girl, so 
 different in her naive ways and lady-like carriage 
 from all her homely surroundings, puzzles Felix, 
 aggravates him, and finally leads him into attempt- 
 ing to infuse more of seriousness into her nature." 
 The writer meant that Esther provoked or irritated 
 Felix. Her conduct and bearing called forth, i. e., 
 pro-voked, certain action on his part. Aggravate 
 means merely to add weight to. Injury is aggra- 
 vated by the addition of insult. Thus, in Howell's 
 Letters (sec. V. 12) : "This [opposition] aggra- 
 vates a grudge the French king hath to the duke 
 for siding. with the Imperialists." An insult may 
 be aggravated by being offered to a man who is 
 courteous and kindly, as it may be palliated by 
 being offered to a brute and a bully. But it is no 
 more proper to say in the one case that the person 
 is aggravated, than in the other to say that he is 
 palliated. 
 
 Alike is very commonly coupled with both in a 
 manner so unjustifiable and so inconsistent with 
 reason as to make the resulting phrase as gross 
 a bull as was ever perpetrated. For example : 
 "Those two pearls are both alike." This is equal 
 to the story of Sam and Jem resembling each other 
 very much, particularly Sam. When we say of 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 89 
 
 two objects that they are alike, we say that they are 
 like each other — that is, simply, that one is like the 
 other. For the purpose of comparing one with the 
 other, they must be kept in mind separate ; but by 
 using both, we compare them as two together, not 
 separately one with the other. Both means merely, 
 and only, the two together. Etymologically it 
 means the two two, and it corresponds to the French 
 phrase tous les deux. Of two objects we may say 
 that both are good, and that they are equally good ; 
 but not that both are equally good, which we do 
 say if we say that both alike are good. The au- 
 thority of very long and very eminent usage can be 
 brought in support of both alike; but this is one 
 of those points upon which such authority is of no 
 w 7 eight ; for the phrase is not an idiom, and it is at 
 variance with reason. The error is more and other 
 than pleonastic or than tautological. It is quite like 
 that which I heard from a little girl, — a poor street 
 waif, — who told a companion that she "had two 
 weenie little puppy-dogs at home, and they were 
 both brothers." 
 
 Allude is in danger of losing its peculiar signifi- 
 cation, which is delicate and serviceable, by being 
 used as a fine-sounding synonyme of say or mention. 
 The honorable gentleman from the State of Ko- 
 keeko, speaking of the honorable gentleman from 
 the same State, denounces him as a drunken vaga- 
 bond and a traitor to his party. The latter rises 
 and says* that his colleague has alluded to him in 
 terms just fit for such a scoundrelly son of a poor- 
 house drab to use, but that he hurls back the hon- 
 orable gentleman's allusions, and so forth, and so 
 
90 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 forth. The spectacle is a sad one to gods and men, 
 and also to all who have respect for the English 
 language. For whatever may have been the case 
 with the other words, allude and allusion were used 
 in their Kokeekokian, certainly not in their English, 
 sense. Allude (from ludo, ludere, to play) means 
 to indicate jocosely, to hint at playfully, and so to 
 hint at in a slight, passing manner. Allusion is 
 the by-play of language. A certain paper* having 
 said, some months ago, that a certain article in 
 "The galaxy" was "respectably dull," the writer 
 thereof amused himself by turning off for the next 
 number the following epigram : — 
 
 " Some knight of King Arthur's, Sir Void or Sir Null, 
 Swears a trifle I wrote is respectably dull. 
 He is honest for once through his weakness of wit, 
 And he censures a fault that he does not commit; 
 For he shows by example — proof quite unrejectable — 
 That a man may be dull -without being respectable." 
 
 Here the paper in question is not mentioned, but 
 it is alluded to in the first line in such a manner that 
 any person acquainted with the press of New York 
 could not doubt as to the one intended. 
 
 Alp. — This is not an English word; but it is 
 not out of place here to notice its frequent misuse 
 by English speaking people, who speak of a single 
 one of the Swiss mountains as "an Alp." They 
 might as well say an Appenine, an Ande, a Pyrenne. 
 "An Alp" is proper as applied to one of the 
 patches of pasture, alps, which give the mountains 
 their name ; but as applied to one mountain, it is 
 ridiculous. 
 
 * "The Round Table," sbce deceased 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 91 
 
 Animal. — It would seem that man is about to 
 be deprived of the rank to which he is assigned by 
 Hamlet — that of being the paragon of animals. 
 Man, like the meanest worm that crawls, is an ani- 
 mal. His grade in the scale of organic life makes 
 him neither more nor less than an animal. And yet 
 many people affect to call only brutes animals. Is 
 this because they are ashamed of the bond which 
 binds them to all living creatures? Do they scorn 
 their poor relations ? On this supposition Mr. Bergh 
 might account for that lack of sympathy, the absence 
 of which causes the cruelty of some men to their 
 dumb fellow-beings, were it not that in past days, 
 when no one had thought of taking man out of the 
 animal kingdom, brutes were more hardly treated 
 than they are now. Mr. Bergh's society — like 
 that in London, of which it is a copy — is called The 
 Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. 
 It is in reality a society for the prevention of cruelty 
 to brutes ; for the animal which suffers most from 
 cruelty — man — appears not to be under the shield 
 of its protection. 
 
 Antecedents. — The use of this word as in the 
 question, What do you know of that man's ante- 
 cedents? is not defensible, except upon the bare 
 plea of mutual agreement. For in meaning it is 
 awkward perversion, and in convenience it has no 
 advantage. Antecedent, an adjective, meaning go- 
 ing before, may logically be used as a substantive, 
 to mean those persons or things which have pre- 
 ceded any person or thing of the same kind in a 
 certain position. Thus the antecedents of General 
 Sherman in the generalship of the army of the 
 
92 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 United States are General Washington, General 
 Scott, and General Grant. There are also the 
 substantive uses of the word in grammar, logic, and 
 mathematics. But to call the course of a man's life 
 until the present moment his antecedents is nearly as 
 absurd a misuse of language as can be compassed. 
 And it is a needless absurdity. For if, instead of, 
 What do you know of his antecedents? it is asked, 
 What do you know of his previous life? or, better, 
 What do you know of his past? there is sense in- 
 stead of nonsense, and the purpose of the question 
 is fully conveyed. 
 
 Apt. — This little word, the proper meaning of 
 which it is almost impossible to express by definition 
 or periphrasis, is in danger of losing its fine sense, 
 and of being degraded into a servant of general 
 utility for the range of thought between liable and 
 likely. I have before me a letter published by a 
 woman of some note, who, asking for contributions 
 \o her means of nursing sick and wounded soldiers, 
 says that anything directed to her at a certain place 
 "will be apt to come." The blunder is amusing. I 
 have no doubt it provoked many smiles ; and yet 
 how delicate is the line which divides this use of the 
 word from the correct one ! To say that a package 
 will be apt to come, is inadmissible ; but to say that 
 it would be apt to miscarry, would provoke no re- 
 mark. This lady meant that the packages would 
 be likely to come. Her error was of the same sort 
 as that of the member from the rural districts, who, 
 driving into a village, called out to a person whom 
 he met, " I say, mister, kin yer tell me where I'd 
 be liable to buy some beans?" A man is liable to 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 
 
 93 
 
 that to which he is exposed, or obliged, or subject; 
 but he is not liable to act. He is liable to take cold, 
 to pay another man's debts, or to incur his wife's 
 displeasure. He is liable to fall in love ; but, un- 
 less he is a very weak brother, he is not liable to be 
 married. Aptness and liability both express con- 
 ditions — one of fitness and readiness, the other of 
 exposure — inherent in the person or thing of which 
 they are predicated. A man may be liable to catch 
 the plague or to fall in love, and yet not be apt to 
 do either. For manhood's sake we would not say 
 of any man that he is liable to be married ; yet, 
 under certain circumstances, most men are apt to 
 be married ; and having done so, a man is liable, 
 and may be apt, to have a family of children. 
 Shakespeare makes Julius Caesar say of Cassius, — 
 
 " I fear him not; 
 Yet if my name were liable to fear, 
 I do not know the man I should avoid 
 So soon as that spare Cassius." 
 
 Csesar might have said, "if I were liable to fear" 
 as well as "if my name w r ere liable." He could 
 have said, "if I were apt to fear," but not, "if my 
 name were apt to fear." 
 
 Artist is a much abused word, and one class of 
 men misuse it to their own injury, — the painters, — 
 who seem to think that artist is a more dignified 
 name than -painter. But artist has been beaten 
 out so thin that it covers almost the whole field of 
 human endeavor. A woman who turns herself 
 upside down upon the stage is an artist ; a cook is 
 an artist; so is a barber; and Goldsmith soberly 
 calls a cobbler an artist. The word has been so 
 
94 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 pulled and hauled that it is shapeless, and has no 
 peculiar fitness to any craft or profession ; its vague- 
 ness deprives it of any special meaning. Its only 
 value now is in the acknowledgment of the ex- 
 pression of an aesthetic purpose, or, rather, of any 
 excellence beyond that which is merely utilitarian. 
 The painters say that they assume it lest they should 
 be confounded with house-painters. The excuse is 
 as weak as water. If they are liable to such con- 
 fusion, or fear it, so much the worse for them. 
 Leonardo, Raphael, Michael Angelo, Correggio, 
 Titian, were content to be called painters. True, 
 they were decorative house-painters. But the same 
 name satisfied Rubens, Vandyke, Reynolds, and 
 Stuart, who did not paint houses. 
 
 Balance, in the sense of rest, remainder, resi- 
 due, remnant, is an abomination. Balance is met- 
 aphorically the difference between two sides of an 
 account — the amount which is necessary to make 
 one equal to the other. It is not the rest, the re- 
 mainder. And yet we continually hear of the 
 balance of this or that thing, even the balance of a 
 congregation or of an army ! This use of the word 
 has been called an Americanism. But it is not so : 
 witness this passage from " Once a Week : " — 
 
 "Whoso wishes to rob the night to the best advantage, let 
 him sleep for two or three hours, then get up and work for two 
 hours, and then sleep out the balance of the night. Doing this, 
 he will not feel the loss of the sleep he has surrendered." 
 
 Bountiful. — This word is very generally mis- 
 used both in speech and in writing. The phrase, 
 a bountiful dinner, a bountiful breakfast, or, to be 
 fine, a bountiful repast, is continually met with in 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 95 
 
 newspapers, wherein we also read of bountiful re- 
 ceipts at the box-offices of theatres, and even, in a 
 leading article of a journal of the first class now 
 before me, of "bountifully filled hourly trains." 
 
 This use of the word altogether perverts and 
 degrades it from its true meaning, which is too val- 
 uable to be lost without an effort for its preservation. 
 Bountiful applies to persons, not to things, and 
 has no reference to„quantity ; although quantity in 
 benefits received is often the consequence of bounti- 
 fulness in the giver. Lady Bountiful was so named 
 because of the benefits she conferred. But the 
 things that she gave — the food and clothing — 
 were not bountiful. A breakfast or dinner which 
 is paid for by those who eat it, has no relations of 
 any kind to bounty ; but it may be plentiful ; and 
 if it is given in alms or in compliment, it will be 
 plentiful because the giver is bountiful. The re- 
 pasts, collations, and banquets, above referred to, 
 were plentiful ; the receipts at the theatres large ; 
 and the trains well filled or crowded. 
 
 Bring, Fetch. — The misuse and confusion of 
 these two words, which are so common, so rooted 
 for centuries in the deep soil of our vernacular, 
 would indicate a very great unsettling of the foun- 
 dations of our language, were it not that the per- 
 version is confined almost entirely to cities. You 
 will hardly find an English or a Yankee farmer 
 who is content to speak his mother tongue as his 
 mother spoke it, who, without taking thought about 
 it, does not use these words as correctly as persons 
 bred in the most cultivated society. But people 
 filled with the consciousness of fine apparel are 
 
g6 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 heard saying to their shop boys, "Go to such or 
 such a place, and bring this parcel with you ; and, 
 say ! you may fetch that other one along." Now,' 
 bring expresses motion toward, not away. A 
 boy is properly told to take his books to school, 
 and to bring them home. But at school he may 
 correctly say, I did not bring my books. Fetch 
 expresses a double motion — first from and then 
 toward the speaker. Thus, a gardener may say 
 to his helper, " Go and bring me yonder rake ; " 
 but he may better say, "Fetch me yonder rake," 
 i. e., go and bring it. And so we find in our 
 English Bible (Acts xxviii. 13), " and from thence 
 we fetched a compass ; " t. £., we went out, around, 
 and back, making a circuit. The distinction be- 
 tween bring and fetch is very sharply drawn in the 
 following passage. (1 Kings xvii. 11.) "And as 
 she was going to fetch it, he called to her and said, 
 Bring me, I pray thee, a morsel of bread." From 
 this usage of these words there is no justifiable vari- 
 ation. The slang phrase — "a fetch" — is hardly 
 slang, for it expresses a venture, i. <?., a metaphor- 
 ical going out to bring something in. 
 
 Calculate. — A very common misuse of this 
 word should be corrected. I do not mean that of 
 which the gentleman from the rural districts is 
 guilt}' w T hen he cahlc'lates he kin do a pooty good 
 stroke of work for himself when he gets into the 
 Legislatur, but that which prevails much more 
 widely, and among people who think no evil of 
 their English, and who would say, for instance, 
 that the nomination of Mr. Seymour to the Presi- 
 dency was calculated to deprive his party of the 
 

 MISUSED WORDS. 97 
 
 votes of the Free Soil Democrats. It is calculated 
 to do no such thino-. Who needs to be told that no 
 such object entered into the calculations of the lead- 
 ing Democrats? But this use of the word has even 
 the very high authority of Goldsmith to support it : — 
 
 " The only danger that attends the multiplicity of publica- 
 tions is, that some of them may be calculated to injure rather 
 than benefit society." — Citizen of the World, Letter XXIV. 
 
 Now, calculate means to compute, to reckon, to 
 work out by figures, and, hence, to project for any 
 certain purpose, the essential thought expressed by 
 it, in any case, being the careful adjustment of means 
 to an end. But Goldsmith did not mean that the au- 
 thors of the books he had in mind intended to injure 
 society, and wrote with that end in view. He did 
 mean that these books might contain something that 
 would do society an injury. Calculate, used in this 
 sense, is only a big, wrongful pretender to the place 
 of two much better words — likely and apt. Gold- 
 smith meant to express a fear that the books in 
 question were likely to injure society ; and whether 
 Governor Seymour's nomination was likely to cost 
 his party the Free Soil Democratic vote, is matter of 
 opinion ; but whether it was calculated to do so, is not. 
 
 Calibre is used with a radical perversion of its 
 meaning by many persons who should know better. 
 As, for instance, — 
 
 " She has several other little poems of a much higher calibre 
 than that." — London Spectator, February 20, 1869. 
 
 The writer of this sentence might as well have 
 
 said, a broader altitude, a bulkier range, or a thinner 
 
 circumference. Calibre is the measure of the mass 
 
 contained or containable in a cavity; e.g., the 
 
 7 
 
98 words And their uses. 
 
 calibre of a bullet or a brain, and hence of a gun or 
 a skull. Therefore its metaphorical use is for the 
 expression of capacity, and its proper augmentatives 
 are of expansion, not of height or depth. 
 
 Caption. — The affectation of fine, big-sounding 
 words which have a flavor of classical learning has 
 had few more laughable or absurd manifestations 
 than the use of caption (which means seizure, act 
 of taking), in the sense, and in the rightful place, 
 of heading. In our newspapers, even in the best 
 of them, it is too common. This monstrous blunder 
 was first made by some person who knew that cap- 
 tain and capital expressed the idea of headship, 
 but who was sufficiently ignorant to suppose that 
 caption , from its similarity in sound to those words, 
 had a kindred meaning. But captain and capital 
 are from the Latin caputs a head ; and caption is 
 from capio, I seize, captum, seized. Language 
 rarely suffers at the hands of simple ignorance ; by 
 which indeed it is often enriched and strengthened ; 
 but this absurd misuse of caption is an example of 
 the way in which it is made mere empty sound, by 
 the pretentious efforts of presuming half-knowledge. 
 Captivate — a word closely connected with cap- 
 tion — once, indeed, its relative verb — is, on the 
 other hand, an interesting example of the perfectly 
 legitimate change, or limitation, which may be 
 made by common consent in a word's meaning. 
 Captivate means primarily to seize, to take captive, 
 and, until within a few years, comparatively, it was 
 used in that sense. But within the last two genera- 
 tions it has been so closely limited to the metaphori- 
 cal expression of the act of charming by beauty of 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 99 
 
 person and insnaring by wiles and winning ways, 
 that it seems very strange to read in one of Wash- 
 ington's letters that " our citizens are frequently 
 captivated by Algerine pirates." 
 
 Catch is very generally misused for reach, get 
 to, overtake. Many persons speak of catching a 
 car. If they reach the car, or get to it, it being at 
 the station, or if, it being in motion, they overtake 
 it or catch up with it, they may catch some person 
 who is in it, or they may catch scarlet fever from 
 some one who has been in it. But they will not 
 catch the car. 
 
 Character, Reputation. — These words are 
 not synonymes ; but they are too generally used as 
 such. How commonly do we hear it said that such 
 or such a man " bore a very bad character in his 
 vicinity," the speaker meaning that the man was of 
 bad repute in his neighborhood ! We know very 
 little of each other's characters ; but reputations are 
 well known to us, except our own. Character, 
 meaning first a figure or letter engraved, means 
 secondarily those traits which are peculiar to any 
 person or thing. Reputation is, or should be, the 
 result of character. Character is the sum of in- 
 dividual qualities : reputation, what is generally 
 thought of character, so far as it is known. Charac- 
 ter is like an inward and spiritual grace, of which 
 reputation is, or should be, the outward and visible 
 sign. A man may have a good character and a 
 bad reputation, or a bad character and a good repu- 
 tation ; although, to the credit of human nature, 
 which, with all its weakness, is not ignoble, the 
 latter is more common than the former. Coleridge 
 
 LofC. 
 
IOO WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 uses character incorrectly when he says (Friend 
 I. 16), "Brissot, the leader of the Gironde party, is 
 entitled to the character of a virtuous man." Sheri- 
 dan errs in like manner in making Sir Peter Teazle 
 say, as he leaves Lady SneerwelPs scandalous 
 coterie, "I leave my character behind me." His 
 reputation he left, but his character was always in 
 his own keeping. 
 
 Chastity. — Priestcraft and asceticism have 
 caused a confusion of this word with continence — 
 a confusion which has lasted for centuries, and ma}^ 
 yet last for many generations. Even such a priest- 
 hater as Froude says of Queen Catharine that she 
 was invited to take the vows, and enter what was 
 called the religio laxa — a state, he adds, " in which 
 she might live unencumbered by obligation, except 
 the easy one of chastity." Does Mr. Froude mean 
 that Catharine would have been more chaste as a 
 secular nun than she was as Henry's wife? that a 
 man is to look upon his mother or his wife as less 
 chaste than his maiden aunt? He, of course, meant 
 no such absurdity ; he merely fell in with a bad 
 usage. He should have said, except the easy obli- 
 gation of continence. Chastity is a virtue. Con- 
 tinence, under some circumstances, is a duty, but 
 is never a virtue, it being without any moral quality 
 whatever. 
 
 Citizen is used by some writers for newspapers 
 with what seems like an affectation of the French 
 usage oicitoyen in the first Republic. For instance : 
 "General A is a well-known citizen, and responsi- 
 ble for these grave charges ; " or, " Several citizens 
 carried the sufferer to a drug store on the next 
 
MISUSED WORDS. IOI 
 
 block." A citizen is a person who has certain po- 
 litical rights, and the word is properly used only to 
 imply or suggest the possession of these rights. The 
 sufferer was cared for by several persons, by-stand- 
 ers, or passengers, some or all of whom might have 
 been aliens. The writer might as well have said 
 that the sufferer was carried off by several church 
 members or several Free Masons. 
 
 Clarionet and Violincello are constantly used 
 for clarinet and. violoncello. There was a stringed 
 instrument which has long been disused, and 
 which was called the violone. It was large, and 
 very different from the violino. A small instru- 
 ment of the kind was made, and called the violon- 
 cello (cello being an Italian diminutive) ; and this, 
 somewhat modified, is the modern instrument of 
 that name. Violincello would be the name of a 
 little violin ; whereas a violoncello is four times as 
 large as a violin. A similar contraction of word 
 and thing has given us clarinet (clarinetto) from 
 clarino. 
 
 Consider is perverted from its true meaning by 
 most of those who use it. Men will say that they 
 do not consider a certain course of conduct right or 
 politic — that they do not consider Mr. So-and-So 
 a gentleman — and even that they do not consider 
 gooseberry tart equal to strawberry short-cake. 
 Now, considere (the infinitive of consido) on which 
 consider is formed, means to sit down deliberately., 
 to dwell upon, to hold a sitting, to sit in judgement ; 
 and hence consider, by natural process came to 
 mean, to ponder, to contemplate. And there seems 
 to have been more than a mere happy fancy in the 
 
102 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 notion, now abandoned, that consider was from con, 
 with, and sidera, the stars, and meant to take coun- 
 sel with the stars, to peer into the future by watch- 
 ing the heavens. A court reserves its opinion 
 that it may consider a question which it sometimes 
 has for weeks under consideration. A business 
 man asks until to-morrow to consider your proposi- 
 tion, and meantime he ponders it, i. e., weighs it 
 carefully, ruminates upon it. A man whose ability, 
 character, or position gives weight to his opinion, is 
 a man of consideration, because what he says is 
 worthy to be considered; and whatever is large 
 enough or strong enough to deserve serious atten- 
 tion is considerable. All this fine and useful sense 
 of the word is lost by making it a mere synonyme 
 of think, sujyjiose, or regard. 
 
 Consummate. — Of all the queer uses of big 
 words which are creeping into vogue, the use of 
 this word, both in speech and in the newspapers, to 
 express the performance of the marriage ceremony, 
 is the queerest. For instance, I heard a gentleman 
 gravely say to two ladies, "The marriage was con- 
 summated at Paris last April." Now, consumma- 
 tion is necessary to a complete marriage ; but it is 
 not usually talked about openly in general society. 
 The gentleman meant that the ceremony took place 
 at Paris. 
 
 Couple. — Although the misuse of this word is 
 very common, and of long standing, the perversion 
 of meaning in the misuse is so great that it cannot 
 be justified, even by time and custom. It is used 
 to mean simply two; as, for instance, "A couple 
 of ladies fell upon the ice yesterday afternoon.' 
 
MISUSED WORDS. IO3 
 
 "Five workingmen, stimulated by the prospect of a 
 couple of small money prizes, offered by an enter- 
 prising local firm, delivered speeches," etc. — "Pall 
 Mall Gazette" March 6, 1869. Why people should 
 use these three syllables, couple of, to say incorrectly 
 that which one syllable, two, expresses correctly, it 
 is hard to tell. It would be quite as correct in the 
 above examples to say, a brace of ladies, and more 
 surely correct to say a pair of prizes. For a couple 
 is not only two individuals who are in a certain 
 degree, at least, equal or like, i. e., a pair, but two 
 that are bound together by some close tie or inti- 
 mate relationship ; who, in brief, are coupled. Two 
 railway cars are bound together by the coupling; 
 a man and a woman are made a couple by the bond 
 of sexual love, which even the legal bond of mar- 
 riage cannot accomplish ; for a man and his wife may 
 be separated, and be no longer a couple. Twins, 
 even, are not a couple, but a pair. In couple, which 
 is merely the Latin copula Anglicized, this idea of 
 copulative conjunction is inherent. So William 
 Lilly, in his "Short Introduction of Grammar," 
 defines jugum as "a yoke, or a yoke of oxen, that 
 is, a couple." It is as incorrect and as absurd to 
 speak of a couple of ladies, or a couple of prizes, 
 as of a couple of earthquakes or a couple of 
 comets. 
 
 Convene is much perverted from its true mean- 
 ing by many people who cannot be called illiterate. 
 Thus : The President convened Congress. Con- 
 vene (from con and venio) means to come together. 
 The right word in this case is convoke, which (from 
 con and voco) means to call together. The Presi- 
 
IO4 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 dent convokes Congress in special session, and then 
 Congress convenes. Convene is misused in the 
 Constitution of the United States itself, which is sin- 
 gularly free from errors in the use of language. 
 
 Crime. — The common confusion of the words 
 crime, vice, and sin, is probably due, in a great 
 measure, to a failure to distinguish the things. The 
 distinction was long ago made, although hardly 
 with sufficient exactness. Crime is a violation of 
 the law of a particular country. What is crime in 
 one country may not be crime in another ; what is 
 crime in one country at one time may not be crime 
 in the same country at another time. Sin is the 
 violation of a religious law, which may be common 
 to many countries, and yet be acknowledged by only 
 a part of the inhabitants of any one. What is sin 
 among Jews or Mohammedans is, in some cases, 
 not sin among Christians, and vice versa. Vice 
 has been defined as a violation of the moral law ; 
 but to make this definition exact in terms and 
 universal in application, a consent as to the require- 
 ments of the moral law is necessary. Vice is a 
 course of action or habit of life which is harmful to 
 the actor or wrongful to others. The viciousness 
 of an act is not dependent upon the country, or the 
 creed of the person who commits it, or of the people 
 among whom it is committed. That which is crim- 
 inal may be neither sinful nor vicious ; that which is 
 sinful, neither criminal nor vicious ; and that which 
 is vicious, neither criminal nor sinful. Thus, smug- 
 gling is a crime, but neither a sin nor a vice ; cov- 
 etousness and blasphemy are sins and vices, but not 
 crimes; gambling is a crime and a vice, but not a 
 
MISUSED WORDS. IO5 
 
 sin ; idleness is vice, but, in itself, neither sin nor 
 crime ; while theft is criminal, sinful, and vicious. 
 The magnitude of the wrong in some acts raises 
 them above or sinks them below the level of vice. 
 Murder is not a vice. It would not be w r ell to speak 
 of Herod's slaughter of the innocents as a vicious 
 or even a very vicious act. The idea of continuity, 
 or of possible continuity, of a habit of action is 
 conveyed in the word vice. Filial disrespect is vi- 
 cious ; but the same cannot be said of parricide ; for 
 although parricide is filial disrespect carried to the 
 extreme, it cannot become a habit, because a man 
 can have but one father and one mother. 
 
 Decimated. — The learned style of that eminent 
 and ambitious writer, the War Correspondent, has 
 brought this word into vogue since the Rebellion, 
 but with a sense somewhat different from that in 
 which it was used by his guide and model, Caius 
 Julius Caesar. After the battle on the Rapidan, or 
 the Chattanooga, he — I do not mean the greater of 
 the two eminent persons, and probably the former 
 will admit that C. J. Cgesar was the more dis- 
 tinguished even as a writer upon military affairs — 
 used to say, in his fine Roman style, that the army 
 was "awfully decimated," as in one of the many 
 instances before me: "The troops, although fight- 
 ing bravely, were terribly decimated, and gave 
 way." Old Veni-vidi-vici would tell him that he 
 might as well have written that the troops were 
 terribly halved or frightfully quartered. When a 
 Roman cohort revolted, and the revolt was put 
 down, a common punishment was to decimate the 
 cohort — that is, select every tenth man, decimus, 
 
I06 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 by lot, and put him to death. If a cohort suffered 
 in battle so that about one man in ten was killed, it 
 was consequently said to be decimated. But to use 
 decimation as a general phrase for great slaughter is 
 simply ridiculous. The exact equivalent of this 
 usage would be to say, The troops were terribly 
 tithed. 
 
 Defalcation is misused on all sides and every 
 day in the sense of default or defaulting. Defalca- 
 tion is the noun of the verb defalcate , which means 
 to lop off, and so to detract from. Congress might 
 defalcate the tariff, and the defalcation might be 
 large or small ; but it would not be a default. A 
 default might be made by any officer intrusted with 
 the collections of the customs duties. If he should 
 not pay these into the treasury, he would default, 
 i. £., fail in his duty, and be a defaulter ; but he would 
 not defalcate, or would his act be a defalcation. 
 
 Dirt means filth, and primarily filth of the most 
 offensive kind. A thing that is dirty is foul. The 
 word has properly no other meaning. And yet 
 some women, intelligent and well educated, say 
 that they like to ride on " a dirt road." They mean 
 a ground road, an earth road, a gravel road, or, 
 in general terms, an unpaved road. Dirt is used 
 by some persons as if it meant earth, loam, gravel, 
 or sand; and we sometimes hear "clean dirt" 
 spoken of. There is no such thing. 
 
 Divine. — The use of this adjective as a noun, 
 meaning a clergyman, a minister of the gospel, is 
 supported by long usage and high authority. In 
 " Richard III." Buckingham points out to the Mayor 
 of London the hypocritical Gloster " meditating with 
 
MISUSED WORDS. IO7 
 
 two deep divines." Chaucer calls the priest Cal- 
 chas a divine. Yet I cannot but regard this use 
 of the word as at variance with reason, as fantastic 
 and extravagant. Think it over a little, and say it 
 over a few times — a divine, a divine — meaning a 
 sort of man ! It might be more blasphemous to 
 leave out the article, and call the man divine ; but 
 would it be quite as absurd? This use of this ad- 
 jective as a noun has a parallel in the calling 
 philosopher " a philosophic," which is done in a 
 newspaper article before me ; in the more co'mmon 
 designation of a child as "juvenile," and even of 
 books for children as " a juveniles ; " in the phrase 
 " an obituary," meaning an obituary article ; and in 
 the name "monthly," which is sometimes given to a 
 literary magazine ; all of which are equally at vari- 
 ance with reason and with good taste. In either case 
 the thing is deprived of its substantive name, and 
 designated by an unessential, accidental quality. 
 
 Dock is by many persons used to mean a wharf or 
 pier ; thus : He fell off the dock, and was drowned. 
 A dock is an open place without a roof, into which 
 anything is received, and where it is enclosed for 
 safety. A prisoner stands, or used to stand, in the 
 dock at his trial. A ship is taken into a dock for 
 repairs. The Atlantic Dock is properly named. 
 The shipping around a city lies at wharves and piers, 
 but goes into docks. A man might fall into a dock ; 
 but to say that he fell off a dock is no better than to 
 say that he fell off a hole. 
 
 Dress has the singular fortune of being misused 
 by one sex only. By town-bred women, both in 
 Great Britain and the United States, and by that 
 
I08 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 very large and wide-spread rural class who affect 
 town-bred airs, dress is used for gown; and thus 
 woman, in a most unhousewifely way, takes from 
 one good servant half his rights, and throws another 
 out of place entirely, thereby leaving herself short- 
 handed. The radical idea expressed in the word 
 dress is, right; and dress, the verb, means, simply, 
 to set right, to put in order. A captain of infantry 
 orders his company to dress to the right — that is, 
 to bring themselves into order, into line, by looking 
 to the right. The kitchen dresser is so called be- 
 cause upon it dishes are put in order. As to the 
 body, dress is that which puts it in order, in a con- 
 dition comfortable and suitable to the circumstances 
 in which it is placed. Dress is a general term, in- 
 cluding the entire apparel, the under garments as 
 well as the outer. No man thinks of calling his 
 coat or his waistcoat his dress, more than of so call- 
 ing his shirt or his stockings. But women do so 
 call the gown ; and thus they use a word which is 
 a vague, general term, and is applicable to all ap- 
 parel, and belongs to men as much as to women, 
 instead of one which means exactly that which they 
 wish to express — * a long outer garment, extending 
 from the shoulder below the knee. Frock, some- 
 times used for gown, is properly of more limited 
 application, although it belongs both to masculine 
 and feminine attire. The origin of the perversion 
 is probably untraceable, except by the aid of some 
 woman of close observation and reflection, who 
 is old enough to have been brought up to say 
 gown. Such a person might be able to tell us 
 how and why, in a little more than a generation, 
 
MISUSED WORDS. IO9 
 
 this word has come to be thus perverted by her sex 
 only. 
 
 Editorial. — An unpleasant Americanism for 
 leader or leading article, which name is given to 
 the articles in newspapers upon the leading topics 
 of the day. These articles are not generally written 
 by the editor of the paper, although he is responsi- 
 ble for them ; but so is he for the other articles, and 
 for the correspondence. And even were the case 
 otherwise, leader or leading article would, none the 
 less, be a good descriptive name for them, and 
 editorial would be poor, both for its meagre signifi- 
 cance, and for its conversion of an adjective, not 
 signifying a quality, as good or ///, into a noun. 
 
 Esquire. — An attempt to deprive any citizen of 
 this democratic republic of his right to be called 
 an esquire by his friends and all his correspondents, 
 would be an outrage upon our free institutions, and 
 perhaps treason to the natural rights of man, what- 
 ever they may be. Upon this subject I confess 
 myself fit only to be a learner ; but I have yet to dis- 
 cover what a man means when he addresses a letter 
 to John Dash, Esq. (who is in no manner distin- 
 guished or distinguishable from other Dashes), ex- 
 cept that Mr. Dash shall think he means to be polite. 
 
 Evacuate. — This word is often subjected to the 
 same kind of ill treatment from which leave suffers. 
 Thus : General Pemberton expects to evacuate to- 
 morrow about nine A. M. ; or, The enemy evacu- 
 ated last night. Evacuate does not mean to go 
 away, but to make empty ; and when the word is 
 used in regard to military movements, evacuation 
 is a mere consequence, result, or, at most, con- 
 
IIO WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 comitant of the going away of the garrison. For 
 obvious reasons the mention of the place departed 
 from is in this case particularly necessary. 
 
 Every. — A gross misuse of this word has been 
 brought into vogue within the last few years on both 
 sides of the water — the first offenders having been 
 people who wished to be elegant, but who did not 
 know enough to be correct ; the others being their 
 thoughtless followers. Thus, General Napier, writ- 
 ing to Disraeli from Abyssinia, said, "The men 
 deserve every praise ; " " The Tribune " says that 
 " Congress has exercised every charity in its treat- 
 ment of the President ; " a manager is reported as 
 having said that as a certain actor has recovered 
 his health, he, the manager, "has every confidence 
 in announcing him " ; and we see grateful people 
 acknowledging, in testimonials, that in their trouble 
 such or such a captain, or landlord, "rendered them 
 every assistance." This is absurdly wrong. Every 
 is separative, and can be applied only to a whole 
 composed of many individuals. Composed origin- 
 ally of the Anglo-Saxon cefer^ ever, and celc, each, 
 its course of descent has been evercelc, eve? 'ilk , 
 everich, every. It means each of all, not all in 
 mass. It cannot, therefore, be applied to that which 
 is in its very nature inseparable. The manager 
 might as well have said that he had multitudinous 
 confidence, as that he had every confidence. He 
 meant perfect or entire confidence ; and the grateful 
 people, that the captain rendered them all possible 
 assistance. Such a sentence, too, as the following, 
 from the work of an admired British novelist, is 
 absurd : "Every human being has this in common." 
 
MISUSED WORDS. Ill 
 
 All human beings might have something in com- 
 mon ; but what every man has, he has individually 
 for himself. 
 
 Executed. — A vicious use of this word has pre- 
 vailed so long, become so common, that, although 
 it produces sheer nonsense, there is little hope of 
 its reformation, except in case of that rare occur- 
 rence in the history of language, a vigorous and 
 persistent effort on the part of the best speakers and 
 writers and professional teachers toward the ac- 
 complishment of a special purpose. The perversion 
 referred to is the use of executed to mean hanged, 
 beheaded, put to death. Thus a well-known his- 
 torian says of Anne Boleyn that "she was tried, 
 found guilty, and executed;" and in the news- 
 papers we almost always read of the "execution" 
 of a murderer. The writers declare the perform- 
 ance of an impossibility. A law may be executed ; 
 a sentence may be executed ; and the execution of 
 the law or of a sentence sometimes, although not 
 once in a thousand times, results in the death of the 
 person upon whom it is executed. The coroner's 
 jury, which sits in the prison-yard upon the body of 
 a felon who has been hanged, brings in its formal 
 verdict, "Execution of the law." To execute (from 
 sequor) is to follow to the end, and so to carry out, 
 and to perform ; and how is it possible that a human 
 being can be executed? A plea of metaphorical or 
 secondary use will not save the word in this sense ; 
 for the law or a sentence is as much executed when 
 a condemned felon is imprisoned as when he is put 
 to death. But who would think of saying that a 
 man was executed because he was shut up in the 
 
112 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 State Prison? And even were it not so, how much 
 simpler and more significant a use of language to 
 say that a felon, or a victim of tyranny, had been 
 hanged, beheaded, shot, or generally, put to death, 
 than to say he was executed ! of which use of this 
 word there is no justification, its only palliation be- 
 ing that afforded by custom and bad example. 
 
 Exemplary. — Archbishop Trench has pointed 
 out that a too common use of this word makes it 
 "little more than a loose synonyme for excellent" 
 Its proper meaning is, that which serves for an ex- 
 ample. Cervantes' JYovelas exemplar es were so 
 called, because each one of them furnished an ex- 
 ample. The misuse of exemplary confines it to 
 examples that should be followed. But some ex- 
 amples are not to be followed. A man is hanged 
 for an example. Othello says, "Cassio, 111 make 
 an example of thee." The language would gain a 
 word by the restriction of exemplary to its proper 
 meaning. Example itself is too often loosely used 
 for problem. A problem often is an example of the 
 operation of a rule, but not always ; and in any case 
 its exemplary is not its essential character. 
 
 Expect is very widely misued on both sides of 
 the water in the sense of suppose, think, guess. 
 E. g., "I expect you had a pretty hard time of it 
 yesterday." Expect refers only to that which is 
 to come, and which, therefore, is looked for (ex, 
 out, and spectare, to look). We cannot expect 
 backward. 
 
 Experience. — Perhaps an objection to the use 
 of this word as a verb has no better ground than 
 that of taste or individual preference, which should 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 113 
 
 be excluded from discussions like the present ; yet 
 I am inclined to make that objection very strong- 
 ly. We are told, for instance, in a London news- 
 paper of standing, that an Armenian archbishop 
 who penetrated into Abyssinia at the request of the 
 British authorities, "fell into the hands of some bar- 
 barous tribes of that district, from whom he is ex- 
 periencing very rough usage." He was receiving 
 or suffering rough usage; and although that was 
 part of his experience, he did not experience it. 
 Experience is the passing through a more or less 
 continuous course of events or trials. A man's ex- 
 perience is the sum of his life ; his experience in any 
 profession, business, or condition of life, is the aggre- 
 gate of the observation he has had the opportunity of 
 making in that profession, business, or condition. 
 Experience should be a means of obtaining knowl- 
 edge and understanding, but is not so always. 
 Some men learn much by experience ; most men, 
 very little ; many, nothing. Experience is akin to 
 experiment, both being derived from the same Latin 
 word, exterior, experimentam, the idea expressed 
 by which is trial. But experiment is voluntary trial, 
 experience involuntary. In experiment the trier is 
 an agent ; in experience, an observer, and often a 
 sufferer. He not only tries, but is tried himself. 
 Natural science advances by experiments which are 
 undertaken by scientific men, and an experiment is 
 a positive fact, of which all men may avail them- 
 selves according to their knowledge and ability ; 
 but experience is of little value except to him who 
 has passed through it. From the noun experience is 
 formed the participial adjective experienced (which 
 8 
 
114 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 is not the perfect participle of a verb experience) , 
 as moneyed from money, landed from land, talented 
 from talent, casemated from casemate, battle?nented 
 from battlement. Battlemented is not a part of a 
 verb — / battlement, thou battlement est, etc. ; or 
 talented from a verb — / talent, thou talentest, etc. 
 So an experienced man is a man of experience, not 
 one who has been experienced, i. <?., according to 
 the dictionaries, has been tried, proved, observed, 
 but one who has tried, has proved, has observed. 
 Of the use of experience as an active transitive verb, 
 I have been able to find, by diligent search, only 
 one example of any authority — the following, quoted 
 by Richardson from " The Guardian " — " the max- 
 im of common sense — that men ought to form their 
 judgments of things unexperienced from what they 
 have experienced." The examples easiest to find 
 are such as the following, furnished by an incensed 
 farmer : " Wal, I'll be durned ef ever I exper'enced 
 sech a cussed cross-grained critter as that in all my 
 life ; " the cross-grained creature which the speaker 
 experienced being a cow that kicked over the milk- 
 pail. That this is not an extreme case, take the 
 following examples in evidence — the first from the 
 London "Spectator," the second from "The Mark 
 Lane Express," two high-class British papers : 
 " The attempt to adapt ourselves by temporary ex- 
 pedients to a climate which we experience [to which 
 we are exposed] about once in twenty or thirty 
 years ; " " The hay crop is one of the most deficient 
 experienced [that we have had] in many years." 
 Now, if we may experience a hot day, or experience 
 a hay crop, can we refuse to experience a cow, 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 115 
 
 without coming athwart the stupendous principle of 
 equal rights for everybody and everything, and 
 subjecting ourselves to discipline at the hands of 
 Mr. Bergh's society? Let us bear, suffer, try, live 
 through, endure, prove, and undergo ; and from 
 all this we shall gain experience and become ex- 
 perienced ; but let us not experience either a hay 
 crop, or a cow, or anything else. 
 
 Extend. — The fondness for fine words leads 
 lecture committees, and other like public bodies, to 
 propose to "extend an invitation" to one distinguished 
 man or other, instead of merely asking him, inviting 
 him, or giving him an invitation ; as, for instance, 
 it was reported by telegraph that " an invitation had 
 been extended to Reverdy Johnson " to dine with 
 the Glasgow bailies ; and in the dedication of a book 
 of some ability, upon an important literary subject, 
 the compliment is said to be paid " in remembrance 
 of the kind interest extended to the author." An 
 interest may be taken or shown in a man, or his 
 labors ; but to extend interest is merely to make 
 interest larger. A man who has ten thousand dol- 
 lars in a business, and puts in ten thousand more, 
 extends his interest in that business. And, more- 
 over, as extend (from ex and tendo) means merely 
 to stretch forth, it is much better to say that a man 
 put out, offered, or stretched forth his hand, than 
 that he extended it. Shakespeare makes the pomp- 
 ous, pragmatical Malvolio say, "I extend my hand 
 to him, thus;" but Paul "stretched forth the hand 
 and answered for himself." This, however, is a 
 question of taste, not of correctness. 
 
 Fly is very frequently misued for flee. It has 
 
Il6 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 even been questioned whether there is a real differ- 
 ence between these two words. Certainly there is ; 
 the distinction is valid and useful. Flee is a general 
 term, and means to move away with voluntary ra- 
 pidity ; fly is of special application, and means to 
 move with wings, either quickly or slowly. True, 
 the words have the same original ; but so have 
 sit and set, lie and lay. The needs of language, 
 guided by instinct, we know not exactly how, ef- 
 fected the distinction between these pairs of words, 
 and it has been confirmed by the usage of many 
 centuries. The similarity between the members of 
 each pair is so great, and they are so easily con- 
 fused, that it is difficult to decide what was the usage 
 of any one of our older authors except in those cases 
 in which their works were very carefully printed 
 under their own eyes. The worth of the distinction 
 and the real difference involved in it will appear by 
 reading, instead of " Sisera lighted down off his 
 chariot and fled away on his feet," Sisera lighted 
 down off his chariot and flew away on his feet, or 
 for " the arrow that flieth by day," the arrow that 
 fleeth by day. 
 
 Get, one of the most willing and serviceable of 
 our vocal servants, is one of the most ill used and 
 imposed upon — is, indeed, made a servant of all 
 work, even by those who have the greatest retinue 
 of words at their command. They use the word 
 get — the radical, essential, and inexpugnable mean- 
 ing of which is the attainment of possession by vol- 
 untary exertion — to express the ideas of possessing, 
 of receiving, of suffering, and even of doing. In 
 all these cases the word is misused. A man gets 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 117 
 
 riches, gets a wife, gets children, gets well (after 
 falling sick), and, figuratively, gets him to bed, 
 gets up, gets to his journey's end — in brief, gets 
 anything that he wants and successfully strives for. 
 But we constantly hear educated people speak of 
 getting crazy, of getting a fever, and even of getting 
 a flea on one. A man hastening to the train will 
 say that he is afraid of getting left, and tell you 
 afterward that he did or did not get left — meaning 
 that he is afraid of being left, and that he was or 
 was not left. 
 
 The most common misuse of this word, however, 
 is to express simple possession. It is said of a man 
 that he has got this, that, or the other thing, or that 
 he has not got it; what is meant being simply that 
 he has it, or has it not — the use of the word got 
 being not only wrong, but, if right, superfluous. If 
 we mean to say that a man is substantially wealthy, 
 our meaning is completely expressed by saying that 
 he is rich, has a large estate, or has a handsome 
 property. We do not express that fact a whit better 
 by saying that he has got rich, or has got a large 
 estate ; we only pervert a word which, in that case, 
 is at least entirely needless, and is probably some- 
 what more than needless. For it is quite correct to 
 sav, in the very same words, that by such and such 
 a business or manoeuvre the man has gotten a large 
 estate. Possession is completely expressed by have ; 
 get expresses attainment by exertion. Therefore 
 there is no better English than, Come, let us get 
 home ; but to say of a vagrant that he has got no 
 home is bad. So we read, "Foxes have holes; 
 birds of the air have nests ; but the Son of Man has 
 
Il8 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 not where to lay his head" — not, have got holes, 
 have got nests, hath not got where to lay his head. 
 The phrase, Fie got the property through his mother 
 or by his wife, is common, but it is incorrect. An 
 estate inherited is not gotten. The correct expres- 
 sion is, That property came to him through his 
 mother, or by his wife. This word has a very wide 
 range, but the boundaries which it cannot rightfully 
 pass are very clearly defined. 
 
 There is among some persons not uneducated or 
 without intelligence a doubt about the past participle 
 of got — gotten, which produces a disinclination to 
 its use. I am asked, for instance, whether gotten, 
 like -proven, belongs to the list of "words that are 
 not words." Certainly not. Prove is what the 
 grammars call a regular verb ; that is, it forms its 
 tenses upon the prevailing system of English verbal 
 conjugation, which makes the perfect tense in ed. 
 It is in this respect like love, the example of regular 
 verbal conjugation given in most grammars ; and 
 one might as" well say that Mary loven John as that 
 John's love for Mar} 7 was nonproven. But get is, in 
 the words of the grammars, an irregular verb ; that 
 is, it forms its preterite tense and its past participle 
 by a real inflection of the present indicative ; thus — 
 get, gat, gotten. The number of these irregular 
 verbs, having what is well called a strong preterite, 
 is large in our language, of w r hich they are a very 
 fine and characteristic feature, and one that we 
 should solicitously preserve with their original na- 
 tive traits unchanged. They are all pure Eng- 
 lish, and, if I remember rightly, nearly all of them 
 monosyllables. Such are do 9 did, done ; begin [or 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 1 1 9 
 
 gin~\, began, begun ; write, wrote, written; eat, ate, 
 eaten ; drink, drank, drunken ; shake, shook, sha- 
 ken ; break, brake, broken ; fall, fell, fallen ; sfeak, 
 sfake, sfoken ; bid, bide, bidden ; sit, sat, sitten ; 
 get, gat, gotten. 
 
 Upon no point of language does the carelessness 
 of intelligent and educated people lead them more 
 frequently into error than upon that of the use of the 
 perfect tense and the past participle of these com- 
 mon English verbs. A dozen pages of this volume 
 might easily be filled with examples of this con- 
 fusion, taken from the works of authors of well- 
 deserved eminence. The verb write suffered very 
 frequently in this respect at the hands of British 
 writers of the last century, and of the early part of 
 the present. Thus Sterne says, "At the close of 
 such a folio as this, wrote for their sake." We can 
 forgive Yorick such errors as this, because of the 
 many charming pages that he has written for our 
 sake ; but they were committed by hundreds of others 
 who have not his claims upon our forbearance. This 
 mistake, by the by, is rarely made by writers on 
 this side the water. Pope opens his "Messiah" 
 with an error of this sort, into which he frequently 
 falls. 
 
 " Rapt into future times the bard begun : 
 A virgin shall conceive and bear a son." 
 
 He should, of course, have written began; and if 
 the need of a rhyme were pleaded and admitted 
 as his excuse in this instance, it would not avail in 
 the following passage in his " Essay on Criticism," 
 where — of all places! — he makes the blunder 
 at the beginning of a line, in the body of which 
 
120 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 he weakens a preterite and an expression to- 
 gether : — 
 
 "In the fat age of pleasure, wealth, and ease, 
 Sprung [sprang] the rank weed, and thrived [throve] with 
 large increase." 
 
 Again, in the same poem, he has the following 
 couplet, without the excuse of rhyme, making, in- 
 deed, the blunder in two words which would have 
 rhymed as well if properly used : — 
 
 "A second deluge learning thus o'errun [o'erran], 
 And the monks finished what the Goths begun [began]." 
 
 So Savage, in his "Wanderer," is guilty of the 
 same fault, in mere wantonness, it would seem, or 
 ignorance : — 
 
 " From Liberty each nobler science sprung [sprang], 
 A Bacon brightened and a Spenser sung [sang]." 
 
 And Swift writes, "the sun has rose" "will have 
 stole it," and "have mistook." For the sake of 
 illustration, I cite the following instance of the right 
 use of the strong preterite and past participle in the 
 same sentence : — 
 
 "A certain man made a great supper, and bade many; and 
 sent his servant at supper-time to say to them that were bidden, 
 Come, for all things are now ready." — Luke xiv. 17. 
 
 The confusion of the preterite and the past parti- 
 ciple of do, which is so frequent among entirely 
 illiterate people — He done it, for He did it, and He 
 has did it, for He has done it — provokes a smile 
 from those who themselves are guilty of exactly 
 corresponding errors. For instance : He begun 
 well, for He began well ; His father had bade him 
 to go home, for His father had bidden him go 
 home ; and The jury has sat a long while, for The 
 jury has sitten a long while. Thus got, having by 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 121 
 
 custom been poorly substituted for gat, so that we 
 say He got away, instead of He gat away, many 
 persons abbreviate gotten into got, saying He had 
 got, for He had gotten ; and hence the doubt whether 
 gotten is not really, like -proven, a word that is no 
 w r ord. But got being the preterite of get, as did is 
 of do, He had got is an error of the same class as 
 He had did; and, on the other hand, if got is the 
 past participle of get, as done is of do, He got is 
 really no worse than He done — only more common 
 among people of some education. Among such 
 people we too often hear, He had rode, for He had 
 ridden, and, perhaps, most frequently of all this class 
 of errors, I had drank, for I had drunk, or (better) 
 I had drunken, and I drunk, for I drank. 
 
 Contrary to the very general supposition, the so- 
 called irregular verbs are, in fact, perfectly regular. 
 They form what is really a conjugation by them- 
 selves, and their inflections, although not identical, 
 are as systematic as those of any verbs in the lan- 
 guage. They are, indeed, the only fully inflected 
 English verbs, and their changes of form are more 
 numerous than those of the other and very much 
 larger division of the same part of speech. We 
 have all of us laughed often enough at "First it 
 blew, and then it snew, and then it thew, and then 
 it friz." But if this were ever uttered in good faith 
 (and it may have been so) , it was the product of 
 ignorance only as to the last word. Snew is the 
 regular preterite of snow, the regular past parti- 
 ciple of which is not snowed, but snown. E. g., 
 grow, grew, grown ; throw, threw, thrown ; 
 blow, blew, blown. The preterite snew is to be 
 
122 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 found in our early literature. Gower uses it, and 
 Douglas, in his translation of the ^neid, the maker 
 of the glossary to which (said in an old manuscript 
 note in my copy to have been John Urry) errone- 
 ously marks it as a Scotticism. Holinshed, noticing 
 an entertainment called Dido, given in the year 
 1583, says that in the course of it, "it snew an arti- 
 ficial kind of snow " ; and in the account, given in 
 Sprott's " Chronicles," of the battle of Towton, we 
 find " and all the season it snew" It is only accord- 
 ing to present usage that snow is an irregular verb ; 
 and it is so because snowed is the vagary of some 
 man struggling long ago toward supposed regular- 
 ity. The regular conjugation of these verbs in ow 
 is to form the preterite in ew and the past participle 
 in wn ; as throw, threw, thrown ; and snow, snowed, 
 snowed is as irregular as throw, throwed, throwed 
 would be, or blow, Mowed, Mowed. But although 
 there is high authority for the phrase, "You be 
 blowed," I cannot but look upon it quoad hoc as a 
 corruption. Show, sow, and mow have been, like 
 snow, perverted from their regular conjugation. 
 The conjugation, according to the usage now in 
 vogue, is show, showed, shown ; sow, sowed, sown, 
 and mow, mowed, mown, in which we have a pre- 
 terite of one form of conjugation, and a past parti- 
 ciple of another — a union of incongruity and irregu- 
 larity quite anomalous. But the regular preterites 
 have not yet been quite ousted by the interlopers. 
 In some parts of New England, and notably in 
 Boston, we still hear from intelligent and not un- 
 educated people, He shew (pronounced shoo) me 
 the way, which is sneered at by persons who do 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 1 23 
 
 not know that shew is the regular and showed an 
 irregular preterite, the use of which is justified only 
 by custom. The preterite shew occurs in the follow- 
 ing interesting passage of Wycliffe's " Apology for 
 the Lollards,"* the date of which is about A. D. 
 1375, m which there is, with preterites in ed, the 
 old regular preterite strake, of strike : — 
 
 " Sin Jeshu was temptid, he overcam hunger in desert, he 
 despicid auarice in the hille, he strak ageyn veynglorie upon the 
 temple ; that he scliexv to us that he that may ageynsey his womb 
 [/. e., deny his belly], and despice the goodis of this world and 
 desire not veynglorie, he howith [z. e., oweth, ought] to be maad 
 Christ's vicar." 
 
 In some parts of Old England a farmer will yet 
 say, "I sew my summer wheat late this season, but 
 I mew my hay early." The healthy tendency of the 
 language, for half a century, has been, not toward 
 the spurious regularity of preterites in ed for all verbs, 
 but toward the restoration of old strong preterites to 
 verbs in which the preterite had been modernized 
 into the weak form. New verbs have always the 
 weak form ; but whereas in the last century purists 
 wrote (the examples are before me) teached for 
 taught, shined for shone, thrived for throve, cqtched 
 for caught, beseeched for besought, and the like, and 
 even in Shakespeare and the Bible we have digged 
 for dug, no good writer now uses, or thinks for a 
 moment of using, any other than the old strong form 
 of these verbs. It is not impossible that this restora- 
 tion may go on. The participle snown will, I think, 
 surely resume the place to which it has the same 
 right as flown and grown have to theirs. 
 
 * It is not ascertained who was the author of this book, but it is a Wycliffite 
 production ; and, for convenience sake, I adopt the supposition that it is from the pen 
 of the great reformer. 
 
124 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 Gratuitous. — An affected use of this word has 
 of late become too common. It is used in the vari- 
 ous senses, unfounded, unwarranted, unreasonable, 
 untrue, no one of which can be given to it with 
 propriety. It is not thus used either by the culti- 
 vated, or by those who speak plain English in a 
 plain way, they know not why or how, and who 
 are content to call a spade a spade. Gratuitous 
 means, without payment ; as, for instance, Professor 
 A. delivered a gratuitous lecture. What meaning 
 can it have, then, in a sentence like the following? 
 "The assumption of Senator Fessenden, that a man 
 who goes into a caucus and acts there is bound 
 to vote in House or Senate in accordance with the 
 decision of the caucus majority, is wholly gratui- 
 tous." It is not gratuitous ; it may be unwaranted, in- 
 tolerable, unreasonable. But this word is supposed 
 to mean something else, people don't know exactly 
 what or why, and, therefore, because of this very 
 ignorance, they use it. For, in language, the 
 unknown is generally taken for the magnificent. 
 True, dictionaries are found in which gratuitous is 
 defined as meaning " asserted without proof or rea- 
 son." But in a moment's reflection any intelligent' 
 person will see that gratuitous cannot mean asserted, 
 in any manner. Dictionaries have come to be, in 
 too many cases, the pernicious record of unreasona- 
 ble, unwarranted, and fleeting usage. 
 
 Grow is even more perverted than get is, in 
 vulgar use, although the misapplications of it are 
 not so numerous. It is used in the sense of become. 
 Such phrase's are constantly heard as the smooth 
 sea grew rough, the clear sk}^ grew black, the coat 
 
MISUSED WORDS. I 25 
 
 had grown soiled, and even the moon grows smaller 
 after the full, or the chances are growing smaller 
 day by day. Now, grow means increase, the en- 
 largement of a present quality or condition, not a 
 change in character of that quality or condition. A 
 rough sea may grow rougher, a dark sky grow 
 black, but a smooth sea becomes rough, a clear sky 
 becomes black, a coat becomes soiled, and the moon, 
 or anything else that lessens, does not grow, but 
 becomes smaller. 
 
 Help. — I have heard objection made to the use 
 of this word "in the sense of avoid," which I notice 
 only because such a criticism is a good example of 
 a prim, precise treatment of language that would 
 deprive it of all strength and flexibility. There is 
 no better English than " I can't help it," which is a 
 compact and homely way of saying the matter is 
 beyond my aid. Aufidius, when he is told that 
 the presence of Coriolanus overshadows him, re- 
 plies, — 
 
 " I cannot help it now, 
 Unless by using means I lame the foot 
 Of our design." 
 
 But the use of the word in this sense must be much 
 older than Shakespeare's poetry. It is one of those 
 quasi idiomatic uses of words (impossible in this 
 instance in French or Latin, for example) that are 
 inevitable, that should not be unsettled, that, in- 
 deed, cannot be helped. There is no surer way to 
 a weak, poor, artificial style than the sitting in 
 judgement upon the use of words and phrases of 
 spontaneous growth, which are not at variance with 
 reason, and which have long been used by all classes 
 
126 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 of speakers for centuries. A man who uses lan- 
 guage as Sampson, the valiant retainer of the Cap- 
 ulet, bit his thumb, only when he has the law on 
 his side, will soon come to write like an attorney 
 drawing a lawpaper. 
 
 Help Meet. — An absurd use of these two 
 words, as if they together were the name of one thing 
 — a wife — is too common. They are frequently 
 printed with a hyphen, as a compound word ; and 
 there is your man who thinks it at once tender, 
 respectful, biblical, and humorous to speak of his 
 wife as his help-meet ; and this merely because in 
 Genesis we are told that woman was given to man 
 as a help that was meet, fit, suitable for him. " I 
 will make him an help meet for him ; " not " I will 
 make a helpmeet for him." Our biblical friend 
 might as well call his "partner," his help-fit, or 
 help-proper. That this protest is not superfluous, 
 even as regards people of education, may be seen 
 by the following sentence in a work — and one of 
 ability, too — on the English language. "Heaven 
 gave Eve, as a help-meet, to Adam." Here the 
 hyphen and the change of the preposition from for 
 to to, leave no doubt as to the nature of the blun- 
 der, which is lamentable and laughable. And yet 
 Matthew Harrison, the author of the work in which 
 it appears, is not only a clergyman of the Church 
 of England, but Fellow of Queen's College, Oxford. 
 
 So a writer of some distinction in "The Galaxy," 
 says, that "woman was designed by her Creator 
 to be a helpmeet to man;" and we are told in a 
 leading article in "The Tribune" on Mormon affairs, 
 that "the saints have crone on with their wholesale 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 127 
 
 marrying and sealing, and the head prophet has 
 taken his forty-fifth help-meet." 
 
 Humanitarian is very strangely perverted by a 
 certain class of speakers and writers. It is a theo- 
 logical word; and its original meaning is, One who 
 denies the godhead of Jesus Christ, and insists upon 
 his human nature. But it is used by the people in 
 question, whose example has infected others, as if 
 it meant humane, and something more. Now, as 
 the meaning of humane is recognizing in a common 
 humanity a bond of kindness, good will, and good 
 offices, it is difficult to discover what more humani- 
 tarian, if admitted in this sense, could mean. In 
 brief, humane covers the whole ground, and hu- 
 manitarian, used in the sense of widely-benevolent 
 and philanthropic, is mere cant, the result of an 
 effort by certain people to elevate and to appropri- 
 ate to themselves a common feeling by giving it a 
 grand and peculiar name. Mr. Gladstone uses this 
 word correctly in the following passage, in which 
 he is speaking of the Olympian system of theo- 
 mythology set forth by Homer. 
 
 " Homer reflected upon his Olympos the ideas, passions, and 
 appetites known to us all, with such a force that they became 
 with him the paramount power in the construction of the Greek 
 religion. This humanitarian element gradually subdued to 
 itself all that it found in Greece of traditions already recognized, 
 whether primitive or modern, whether Hellenic, Pelasgian, or 
 foreign." — Juvenilis Mundi, Chap. VII. p. 181. 
 
 Ice-water, Ice-cream. — By mere carelessness 
 in enunciation these compound words have come 
 to be used for iced-water and iced-cream — most 
 incorrectly and with a real confusion of language, 
 if not of thought. For what is called ice-water is 
 
128 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 not made from ice, but is simply water iced, that 
 is, made cold by ice ; and ice-water might be warm, 
 as snow-water often is. Ice-cream is unknown. 
 
 Inaugurate is a word which had better be 
 eschewed by all those who do not wish to talk 
 high-flying nonsense, else they will find themselves 
 led by bad examples into using it in the sense of 
 begin, open, set up, establish. The Latin word, 
 of which it is merely an Anglicized form, meant to 
 take omens from the flight of birds and the inspection 
 of their entrails and those of beasts, and hence was 
 applied to the occasions at which such omens were 
 chiefly sought. To inaugurate is to receive or in- 
 duct into office with solemn ceremonies. The occa- 
 sions are very few in regard to which it may be 
 used with propriety. But we shall read ere long 
 of cooks inaugurating the preparation of a dinner, 
 and old Irish women inaugurating a peanut stand ; 
 as well these as inaugurating, instead of opening, a 
 ball, or inaugurating, instead of setting up, or estab- 
 lishing, a business. Howells affords the following 
 good example of the figurative use of the word : 
 "To inaugurate a good and jovial year, I send you 
 a morning's draught, viz., a bottle of metheglin." — 
 Letters, IV. 41. 
 
 Initiate is one of the long, pretentious words 
 that are coming into vogue among those who would 
 be fine. It means begin ; no more, no less. It may 
 be more elegant to say, The kettle took the initiative, 
 than to use the homelier phrase to which our ears 
 have been accustomed ; but I have not been able to 
 make the discovery. And I may as well here de- 
 spatch a rabble of such words, all of kindred origin 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 
 
 129 
 
 and pretentious seeming. Unless a man is a crown 
 prince, or other important public functionary, it is 
 well for him to have a house and a home, where he 
 lives, not a place of residence, where he resides. 
 From this let him and his household go to church 
 or to meeting, if they like to do so ; but let not the 
 inmates -proceed to the sanctuary . And if, being 
 able and willing to do good, he gives something to 
 the parson for the needy, let him send his cheque, 
 and not transmit it. Let him oversee his household 
 and his business, not supervise them. Let him re- 
 ject, disown, refuse, or condemn what he does not 
 like, but not repudiate it, unless he expects to cause 
 shame, or to suffer it, in consequence of his action ; 
 and what he likes let him like or approve or uphold, 
 but not indorse; and, indeed, as to indorsing, let 
 him do as little of that as possible. I have come from 
 pretension into the shop, and, therefore, I add, that 
 if he is informed upon a subject, has learned all 
 about it, knows it, and understands it, let him say 
 so, not that he is well posted on it. He will say 
 what he means, simply, clearly, and forcibly, rather 
 than pretentiously, vulgarly, and feebly. It is note- 
 worthy and significant that the man who will say 
 that he is posted up on this or that subject, is the 
 very one who will use such a foolish, useless, preten- 
 tious word as recuperate, instead of recover. Thus 
 the Washington correspondent of a leading journal 
 wrote that General Grant and Mr. Speaker Colfax 
 expected to start for Colorado on the first of July, 
 and that their trip is "for the sole purpose of re- 
 cuperating their health." If the writer had omitted 
 five of the eight words which he used to express the 
 9 
 
I30 WORDS AND THEIR USER. 
 
 purpose of the travellers, and said the trip is "for 
 health only," his sentence would have been bettered 
 inversely as the square of the number of words 
 omitted. But it will not do to be so very exacting 
 as to ask people not to use many more words than 
 are necessary, and so all that can be reasonably 
 hoped for is, that recuferate may be shown to the 
 door by those who have been weak enough to admit 
 him. He is a mere pompous impostor. At most 
 and best, recuperate means recover ; not a jot more 
 or less. Recover came to us English through our 
 Norman-French kinsfolk, and sometime conquerors. 
 It is merely their recouvrer domesticated in our 
 household. They got it from the Latin recuferare. 
 But why we should go to that word to make another 
 from it, which is simply a travesty of recover, passes 
 reasonable understanding. But I must have done 
 with such minute and particular criticism of verbal 
 extravagance, having written thus much only by 
 way of suggestion, remonstrance, and illustration. 
 It would be well if all such words as those of which 
 I have just treated could be gathered under one 
 head, to be struck off at a blow by those who would 
 like to do execution on them. 
 
 Jew. — A noteworthy objection has been made 
 of late years by Jews to the common use of this 
 designation. I remember two instances, in one of 
 which the "Pall Mall Gazette" of London, and in 
 the other the "New York Times," was taken to 
 task for mentioning that certain criminals were 
 Jews. In each case the same question was asked, 
 in effect if not in words, Would you speak of the 
 arrest of two Episcopalians, a Puseyite, three Presby- 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 131 
 
 terians, and a Baptist? and in each case there was 
 an apology made, and a promise given that the 
 "offence" should not be repeated. What offence 
 could be reasonably taken at this designation, it 
 would be difficult to discover. The Jews are a 
 peculiar people, who, in virtue of that strongly- 
 marked and exclusive nationality which they so 
 religiously cherish, have outlived the Pharaohs who 
 oppressed them, and who seem likely to outlive the 
 Pyramids on which they labored. And when they 
 are mentioned as Jews, no allusion is meant or made 
 to their faith, but to their race. A parallel case to 
 those complained of would be the saying that a 
 Frenchman or a Spaniard had committed a crime, 
 at which no offence is ever taken. A Jew is a Jew, 
 whether he holds to the faith of his fathers or leaves 
 it for that of Christ or of Mohammed. The complaint 
 rests on a confusion of the distinctions of race with 
 those of religion, owing to the fact that in this case the 
 boundaries of the race and the religion are almost 
 identical. But it is none the less confusion. 
 
 Jewelry. — Many women, and even some men, 
 who should know better, are in the habit of speaking 
 of their jewelry when they mean their jewels. The 
 word thus used is of very low caste. Think of Cor- 
 nelia pointing to the Gracchi and saying, "These 
 are my jewelry ;" or read thus a grand passage in 
 the last of the Hebrew prophets : "And they shall 
 be mine, saith the Lord of Hosts, in that day when 
 I make up my jewelry ! " As applied to trinkets 
 and precious stones, the word means, at best, jewels 
 in general, not any particular jewels. It is of very 
 late introduction in any sense ; not being in Shake- 
 
132 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 speare, or the Bible, or Milton, or in Johnson's Dic- 
 tionary. The earliest authority quoted for it oy 
 Richardson is Burke, who speaks of "the jewelry 
 and goods " of India. 
 
 But, properly, jewels are no more jewelry than 
 shrubs are shrubbery, slaves slavery, or beggars 
 beggary. Jewelry is properly the name of the 
 place in which jewels are kept, as slavery is the 
 name of the condition in which slaves are kept, as 
 beggary is that of the condition in which beggars 
 are, and as shrubbery is that of grounds filled with 
 shrubs. These words belong to a numerous class 
 ending in ry, which express place, or condition, 
 which is moral place. Such are belfry, library, 
 laundry, bakery, buttery, aviary, grocery, -pottery, 
 armory, infirmary , bindery, confectionary '. From 
 grog we have rightly formed groggery ; and our 
 translators of the Bible called Judea, the place of the 
 Jews, Jewry. Now, we might as well call a knot 
 of Jews Jewry, or whiskey toddy and rum punch 
 groggery, as a set of jewels jewelry. But jewelry 
 is one of a few of these words which have been per- 
 verted by careless speakers. Such are confection- 
 ary, -pastry, and crockery. Confections are made 
 by a confectioner, and kept in a confectionary; 
 paste is kept in a pastry ; and crocks, made by a 
 crocker, are kept in a crockery. All these words 
 have been thus correctly used. We have the proper 
 name Crocker, derived from the occupation, like 
 Baker or Baxter, Webster, Webber or Webb, and 
 Fuller ; and Howell (to bring forward one out of 
 numberless examples) tells us in one of his letters 
 that Felton, the murderer of the Duke of Bucking- 
 
MISUSED WORDS. I33 
 
 ham, in his attempt to escape, "was so am^z'd that 
 he miss'd his way, and so struck into the pastry, 
 where" — he was arrested. The perversion of 
 jewelry, confectionary , -pastry, -pottery, and crock- 
 ery is probably due to the substitution of signs in- 
 scribed with words for those first used, which were 
 merely decorated with some device or sign — whence 
 the name. The jeweller put up Jewelry over his 
 shop door, and the crocker, Crockery, and so 
 forth ; and these names of places were at last mis- 
 apprehended as names of the articles for sale in 
 those places. As crock passed out of use as a gen- 
 eral name (although no one nowadays has any 
 difficulty in understanding the title of the story of 
 the " Crock of Gold *') , crockery was the first, and 
 is the best established, of these perverted words. 
 Next comes confectionary , although confections is 
 not quite out of use, and might be easily restored ; 
 and the common use of paste, pot, and jewel leaves 
 no excuse (except conformity to a bad custom 
 which perverts meaning, cramps language, and 
 violates analogy) for displacing them in favor of 
 pastry, pottery, and jewelry. 
 
 Kinsman. — For this hearty English word, full 
 of manhood and warm blood, elegant people have 
 forced upon us two very vague, misty substitutes — 
 relation and connection. By the use of the latter 
 words in place of the former, nothing is gained and 
 much is lost. Both of them are very general terms. 
 Men have relations of various kinds, and connec- 
 tions are of still wider distribution. Even in regard 
 to family and friends, it is impossible to give these 
 words exactness of meaning ; whereas a man's kin, 
 
134 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 his kinsmen, are only those of his own blood. His 
 cousin is his kinsman, but his brother-in-law is not. 
 Yet relation is made to express both connections, 
 one of blood, and the other of law. In losing kins- 
 man we lose also his frank, sweet-lipped sister, 
 kinswoman, and are obliged to give her place to 
 that poor, mealy-mouthed, ill-made-up Latin inter- 
 loper, female relation. 
 
 Leave. — This verb is very commonly ill used 
 by being left without an object. Thus : Jones left 
 this morning ; I shall leave this evening. Left 
 what? shall leave what? Not the morning or the 
 evening, but home, town, or country. When this 
 verb is used, the mention of the place referred to 
 is absolutely necessar} r . To wind up a story with, 
 " Then he left," is as bad as to say, then he sloped — 
 worse, for sloped is recognized slang. 
 
 Lie, Lay. — There is the same difference between 
 these two verbs that there is between sit and set. 
 The difficulty which many persons find in using 
 them correctly will be removed by remembering 
 that lay means transitive action, and lie, rest. This 
 difference between the words existed in the Anglo- 
 Saxon stage of our language ; lay being merely the 
 modern form of lecgan, to put down, to cause to 
 lie down, and so, to kill, — in Latin, de^onere, occi- 
 dere, — and lie the modern form of licgan, to 
 extend along, to repose — in Latin, occumbere. Lie 
 is rarely used instead of lay, but the latter is often 
 incorrectly substituted for the former. Many per- 
 sons will say, I was laying (lying) down for a nap : 
 very few, She was lying (laying) down her shawl, 
 or, He was lying down the law. The frequent con- 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 
 
 OD 
 
 fusion of the two verbs in this respect is strange ; fot 
 almost every one of us heard. them rightly used from 
 ihe time when he lay at his mother's breast and until 
 he outgrew the sweet privilege of lying in the twi- 
 light and hearing her voice mingle with his fading 
 consciousness. 
 
 " Hush, my babe, lie still and slumber." 
 " Now I lay me down to sleep." 
 
 The tendency to the confusion of the two verbs 
 may be partly due to the fact that the preterite of 
 lie is lay. 
 
 " In the slumbers of midnight the sailor boy lay ; " 
 
 and that this expression of the most perfect rest is 
 identical in sound with the expression of the most 
 violent action. 
 
 '•'■Lay on, Macduff, 
 And damn'd be he who first cries, Hold, enough ! " 
 
 Even Byron uses lay incorrectly in " Childe Harold." 
 
 " And dashest him again to earth — there let him lay." 
 
 The keeping in mind the distinction that lay ex- 
 presses transitive action, and lie rest, as is shown 
 in the following examples, will prevent all confusion 
 of the two : — 
 
 I lay myself upon the bed (action). I lie upon 
 the bed (rest). 
 
 I laid myself upon the bed (action). I lay upon 
 the bed (rest). 
 
 I have laid myself upon the bed (action). I 
 have lain upon the bed (rest). 
 
 A hen lays an tgg (action). A ship lies at the 
 wharf (rest). The murdered Lincoln lay in state 
 (rest) ; the people laid the crime upon the rebels : 
 (action). 
 
I36 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 The need there is for these remarks could not 
 be better shewn than by the following ludicrous pas- 
 sages in the Rules of the Senate and the Rules of the 
 House of Representatives of the United States : — 
 
 "When a question is under debate, no motion shall be re- 
 ceived but to adjourn, to lie on the table, to postpone indefinite- 
 ly," &c. — Senate Rule 1 1. 
 
 " When a question is under debate, no motion shall be received 
 but to adjourn, to lie on the table, for the previous question," &c. 
 — House Rule 42. 
 
 And so it is all through the Manual. Now, con- 
 sidering the condition in which honorable gentlemen 
 sometimes appear on the floor, if the rule had been 
 "no motion shall be received but to lie under the 
 table," the Manual would, in this respect, have been 
 beyond censure. The correct uses of lie and lay 
 are finely discriminated in the following passages 
 from the Book of Ruth, one of the most beau- 
 tiful and carefully written in our translation of the 
 Bible : — 
 
 " And it shall be that when he lieth down, that thou shalt mark 
 the place where he shall lie ; and thou shalt go in and uncover 
 his feet and lay thee down. And when Boaz had eaten and 
 drunk, and his heart was merrj, he went to lie down at the end 
 of the heap of corn, and she came softly and uncovered his feet 
 and laid her down. . . . and behold a woman lay at his feet. 
 . . . lie down until the morning. And she lay at his feet 
 until the morning."— Chap. III. 4, 7, 13, 14. 
 
 Like, As. — The confusion of these two words, 
 which are of like meaning, but have different func- 
 tions, produces obscurity in the writing even of men 
 who have been well educated. Of this I find an 
 instructive and characteristic example in a London 
 paper of high standing — "The Spectator." In an 
 article supporting a remonstrance of the London 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 137 
 
 gas-stokers against being compelled to work twelve 
 hours a day for seven days of the week before huge 
 fires in a temperature often of one hundred and eighty 
 degrees, the writer, deprecating a strike by the 
 stokers, goes on to say, "The Directors could fill 
 their places in three hours from the docks alone ; 
 but that does not give them a right to use up English- 
 men like Cuban planters." But how have directors 
 of British gas companies the right to use up Cuban 
 planters? and how could they use up Cuban plant- 
 ers? There are no answers to these inevitable 
 questions, and the sentence as it stands is sheer 
 nonsense. But a little thought discovers that what 
 the writer meant to say was, that the directors had 
 no right to use up Englishmen as Cuban planters 
 use up negroes. His meaningless sentence was the 
 result of the confusion of like and as, which is com- 
 mon with careless speakers. Thus, for instance, 
 He don't do it like you do, instead of as you do. 
 Like and as both express similarity, but the former 
 compares things, the latter action or existence. We 
 may say correctly, John is like James, and may 
 express the same opinion by saying that John is such 
 a man as James is. We ma}' say, A's speech is like 
 B's, or, A speaks as B does ; but not A's speech is 
 as B's, or, A speaks like B does. When as is cor- 
 rectly used, a verb is expressed or understood. The 
 woman is as tall as the man, i. e., as the man is. 
 With lilce, a verb is neither expressed nor under- 
 stood. He does his work like a man ; not, like a 
 man works. 
 
 Loan is not a verb, but a noun. A loan is the 
 completed act of lending, or is the thing lent. The 
 
138 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 word is the past participle of the Anglo-Saxon verb 
 Icenan, to lend, and therefore of course means lent. 
 It may sound larger to some people to say that they 
 loaned than that they lent a thousand dollars — 
 more as if the loan were an important transaction ; 
 but that can be only because they are either ignorant 
 or snobbish. 
 
 Locate is a common Americanism, insufferable 
 to ears at all sensitive. If a gentleman chooses to 
 say, " I guess I shall locate in Muzzouruh," meaning 
 that he thinks he shall settle in. Missouri, he has, 
 doubtless, the right, as a free and independent citizen 
 of the United States, to say so. Certainly locate 
 and Muzzouruh should be left together ; each in fit 
 company. Locate is simply a big word for -place 
 or settle ; and a man for whom those words are not 
 ample enough, may correctly speak of locating him- 
 self, his family, or his business here or elsewhere. 
 But locate without an object is suited to. the use of 
 those only who are too ignorant and too restless to 
 settle anywhere. 
 
 Love and Like are now confused by many speak- 
 ers, and even by some writers of education and 
 repute. Love is often used for like ; the latter not 
 so often for the former. Both words express a pleas- 
 ure in and a desire for the object to which they 
 are applied ; but love expresses this and something 
 more — a devotion to it, an absorption in it, a readi- 
 ness for sacrifice to obtain or to serve the beloved 
 object. A man loves his children, his mother, his 
 wife, his mistress, the truth, his country. But some 
 men speak of loving green peas or apple pie, 
 meaning that they have a liking for them. The dis- 
 
MISUSED WORDS. I39 
 
 tinction between the two words existed in the An- 
 glo-Saxon stage of our language, and is one of great 
 value, as it enables us to discriminate between a 
 higher and lower preference, which differ in kind as 
 well as in degree. It gives us an advantage over 
 the French, for instance, who are obliged to use the 
 same word to express their affection for La France 
 and for meringues a la creme. We shall have 
 deteriorated, as well as our language, when we no 
 longer distinguish our liking from our loving. 
 
 Manufacturer is another one of the big words 
 that are now applied to little things. The village 
 shoemaker is disappearing, and shoes are made by 
 the hundred — not nearly so well as he used to make 
 them — by machinery in large factories, which have 
 come to be called manufactories, although man- 
 ufacture is making by the hand. But although boots 
 are going out of fashion, one does not see a little 
 shoe-shop without the sign Boot Manufactory, and 
 the condescending announcement, Repairing done 
 with despatch — meaning that there shoes are made 
 and mended. It would be well, on the score of 
 comfort as well as of taste, if there were a little more 
 of the old skill in the gentle craft, and a little less 
 magniloquence. But all this is a concomitant of 
 "progress," and may be borne with equanimity 
 if the boot-manufacturer and repairer is a worthier 
 and a happier man than the old shoemaker and 
 mender. 
 
 Marry. — There has been not a little discussion 
 as to the use of this word, chiefly in regard to pub- 
 lic announcements of marriage. The usual mode 
 of making the announcement is — Married, John 
 
I4O WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 Smith to Mary Jones. Some people having been 
 dissatisfied with this form, we have seen, of late 
 years, in certain quarters — Married, John Smith 
 with Mary Jones ; and in others — John Smith and 
 Mary Jones. I have no hesitation in saying that 
 all of these forms are incorrect. We know, indeed, 
 what is meant by any one of them ; but the same is 
 true of hundreds and thousands of erroneous uses of 
 language. Properly speaking, a man is not mar- 
 ried to a woman, or married with her ; nor are a 
 man and a woman married with each other. The 
 woman is married to the man. It is her name that 
 is lost in his, not his in hers ; she becomes a mem- 
 ber of his family, not he of hers ; it is her life that 
 is merged, or supposed to be merged, in his, not his 
 in hers ; she follows his fortunes, and takes his sta- 
 tion, not he hers. And thus, manifestly, she has 
 been attached to him by a legal bond, not he to her ; 
 except, indeed, as all attachment is necessarily mu- 
 tual. But, nevertheless, we do not speak of tying 
 a ship to a boat, but a boat to a ship. And so long, 
 at least, as man is the larger, the stronger, the more 
 individually important, as long as woman generally 
 lives in her husband's house and bears his name, — 
 still more should she not bear his name, — it is the 
 woman who is married to the man. " JVubo : viro 
 trador : to be married to a man. For it is in 
 the woman's part only." Lilly's Grammar. — In 
 speaking of the ceremony it is proper to say that he 
 married her (duxit in matrimonio), and not that 
 she married him, but that she was married to him ; 
 and the proper form of announcement is — Married, 
 Mary Jones to John Smith. The etymology of the 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 1^1 
 
 word agrees entirely with the conditions of the act 
 which it expresses. To marry is to give, or to be 
 given, to a husband, mart. 
 
 Militate is rarely misused, except that any use 
 of it is misuse, and it belongs rather among words 
 which are not words. It does not appear in "John- 
 son's Dictionary," and is of comparatively recent 
 introduction. But it must have been creeping into 
 newspaper use in Johnson's day, as it occurs in the 
 following sentence of a passage quoted in the " Pall 
 Mall Gazette," from the " St. James's Chronicle," of 
 more than ninety years ago : — 
 
 "On Saturday, the Exhibition of the Royal Academy was 
 opened for the first time, at the great room in Pall Mall. We 
 are sorry to observe that though this institution has successfully 
 militated against all others, and nearly swallowed them up, it 
 seems to be on the decline." 
 
 What could be more absurd than the making of 
 the Latin milito into an English word to take the 
 place of ofj^ose, contend, be at variance with, as, 
 for instance, in the following extract from a report 
 of the murder of a young lady in Virginia : — 
 
 " It was at first supposed that the lady had been thrown from 
 her horse, and killed by being dragged along the ground. Sev- 
 eral circumstances, however, militate against this supposition." 
 
 The absurdity is the greater because it is usually 
 a supposition, or a theory, or something quite as 
 incorporeal, that is militated against. The use of 
 this word is, however, not a question of right or 
 wrong, but one of taste. It belongs to a bad family, 
 of which are necessitate, ratiocinate, effectuate, and 
 eventuate, which, with their substantives, — necessi^ 
 tat ion, ratiocination, effectuation, and eventuation 
 (which must be received with their parent verbs) , — 
 
I42 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 should not be recognized as members of good Eng- 
 lish society. It is well in keeping for negro min- 
 strels, in announcing their performances, to say, 
 "The felicity will eventuate every evening." 
 
 Obnoxious. — It were well if this word had 
 stopped short of its last deflected meaning. An 
 Anglicized form of the Latin obnoxius, its root is 
 the verb noceo, to harm, hence noxius, harmful, and 
 therefore obnoxious means, liable or exposed to 
 harm. It was used in this sense only until the close 
 of the last century, as may be seen by reference to 
 Richardson's Dictionary. Milton wrote in "Sam- 
 son Agonistes " "obnoxious more to all the miseries 
 of life," and Dr. Armstrong, in his "Art of Preserv- 
 ing Health," "to change obnoxious." But as a 
 person who is obnoxious to punishment is supposed 
 to be blameable, and as we affect that a blameable 
 person is an offensive one, it has come to be used 
 in the sense of offensive, particularly by those who 
 do not know exactly what it does mean. We do 
 not need both offensive and obnoxious, with but one 
 meaning between them ; but perhaps it is too much 
 to hope that we may retain both, and restore to 
 obnoxious its proper and useful signification. 
 
 Observe. — This word, the primary meaning of 
 which is to keep carefully, and hence to heed, has 
 by an orderly and consistent deflection, come to 
 mean also to keep in view, to follow with respect and 
 deference, e.g., "and let thine eyes observe my 
 ways," and to fulfil and attend to with religious care, 
 as to observe one's duties, to observe the Sabbath. 
 But it is frequently used as a mere synonyme of say. 
 This sense is not a derived or deflected sense, but 
 
MISUSED WORDS. I43 
 
 an extraneous one imposed upon the word by loose 
 usage. It is reached by uniting to the sense of 
 heeding or remarking, that of expressing what is 
 remarked, and then dropping the essential meaning 
 of the word in favor of that which has been im- 
 posed upon it. Used to mean heed, take note of, 
 keep in view, follow, attend to, fulfil, it does good 
 service. But in the sense of say, as, I observed to 
 him so and so, for, I said so and so to him, or, 
 What did you observe? for, What did you say? it 
 might better be left to people who must be very 
 elegant and exquisite in their speaking. 
 
 Partially is often used, and by educated peo- 
 ple, for -partly. Even Mr. Swinburne says, in his 
 interesting but somewhat strained and overwrought 
 book on William Blake, "If this view of the poem 
 be wholly or partially correct." But -partially, the 
 adverb of partial, means with unjust or unreasona- 
 ble bias. A view cannot be both correct and partial. 
 When anything is done in part, it is partly, not 
 partially, done. Both words are from one root; 
 but to confuse the two is to deprive us of the use 
 of one. 
 
 Partook. — Say, that you ate your breakfast or 
 your dinner, not that you partook of some rolls and 
 butter and coffee, or of beef and pudding. Although, 
 if you are at breakfast when a friend comes in, you 
 may ask him, if you like the phrase, to sit down 
 and partake of it, i. e., take a part of it, share it 
 with you. 
 
 Party, Article, Goods. — These shop words 
 should, in their shop sense, be left in the shop. 
 Mr. Bullions, in making a contract or going into 
 
144 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 an M operation," is a party ; but in his house or yours 
 he is a person. Mrs. Bullions's Sevres vase, being 
 on her cabinet, is no longer an elegant article, but 
 a vase, more or less beautiful ; and the material of 
 her gown, having been honored by her possession, 
 and shaped by her figure, is no longer goods. Mr. 
 Sheldon's books, Mr. Low's tea, Mr. Stewart's silk, 
 are their goods ; but we neither read goods, nor 
 drink goods; how, then, do we wear goods? Yet 
 some people, and even women of some cultivation, — 
 they who so rarely err in language, — will speak of 
 the materials of their garments as goods. Goods 
 means articles of personal property, regarded as 
 property, not as personal appendages. Houses and 
 lands are good, but not goods ; nor are ships ; but 
 the cotton and the corn in the ships are goods : a 
 stock in trade is goods ; but a man's household gods 
 are not his goods until he puts them into the market. 
 And so Mrs. Bullions, when she is sold out, may 
 rightly enumerate her gown among her goods, and 
 her Sevres vase among her " articles of bigotry and 
 virtue." 
 
 Patron. — If you are in retail trade, don't call 
 your customers your patrons, and send them circu- 
 lars asking for a continuance of their patronage ; 
 unless you mean to say that they buy of you, not 
 because they need what you have to sell, but merely 
 to give you money, and that you are a dependant 
 upon their favor. There is patronage in this coun- 
 try, both within and without the administration of 
 government ; and it does not imply loss of inde- 
 pendence on the one side or arrogance on the other ; 
 but it does not consist in buying what one needs for 
 one's own comfort or pleasure. 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 1 45 
 
 Pell-mell. — This word or phrase implies a 
 crowd and confusion (Fr. milee), and should 
 never be applied, as it is by some speakers and 
 some writers for the press, to an individual ; as, for 
 instance, in this sentence from a first-rate newspa- 
 per : " I rushed pell-mell out of the theatre." The 
 writer might as well have said that he rushed out 
 promiscuously, or that he marched out by platoons. 
 
 Persuaded. — The use of this participle in the 
 sense of convinced, cannot, I think, be justly con- 
 demned as vulgar or a solecism. The best usage 
 is too strongly in its favor. " All the people will 
 stone us, for they be persuaded that John was a 
 prophet." Luke xx. 6. " I am persuaded that none 
 of these things were hidden from him ; for this thing 
 was not done in a corner." Acts xxvi. 26. "This 
 is the monkey's own giving out. She is persuaded 
 I will marry her out of her own love and flattery, 
 not out of my promise." Othello iv. 1. Neverthe- 
 less its use in this sense is a loss to the language. 
 It deprives us of a word that expresses the result of 
 gentler influences than those that produce convic- 
 tion. A man is sometimes persuaded to act against 
 his conviction. The root of the Latin word suadeo, 
 from which the verb -persuade is derived, has in it 
 a suggestion of sweetness (suavis, sweet), hinting 
 gentleness and allurement. Sitavium means a 
 sweet mouth, and so, a kiss. Women persuade 
 when they cannot convince. It would be well if 
 ( this tender and delicate sense of the word could be 
 preserved. 
 
 Portion is commonly misused in the sense of 
 ■part. For instance, " A large portion of Broad- 
 10 
 
I46 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 way is impassable for carnages, on account of the 
 snow and ice." A correct speaker would say, " A 
 large part of Broadway," etc. A portion is a part 
 set aside for a special purpose, or to be considered 
 by itself. 
 
 Predicate. — Should I express to my own satis- 
 faction the feeling which the frequent misuse of this 
 word by people who use it because they do not know 
 its meaning, excites in the bosoms of those who do 
 know, and who, therefore, use it rarely, I might 
 provoke a smile from my readers, and I certainly 
 should sm:le at myself. If there is any verbal of- 
 fence which more than another justifies an open 
 expression of contempt, it is when an honorable 
 gentleman rises in his place and asks whether the 
 honorable body of which he is a member " intends 
 to predicate any action upon the statement of the 
 honorable gentleman who has just sat down ; " what 
 he wishes to know being, if they mean to do any- 
 thing or to take any steps about it, or found any action 
 upon it. And so a well-known member of Con- 
 gress addessed a letter to the New York "Times" 
 in which he said, "You predicate an editorial on 
 a wrong report of my speech in Brooklyn." Yet, 
 perhaps, such a man does not forfeit all the consid- 
 eration due to a vertebrate animal. Predicate means 
 primarily to speak before, and, hence, to bear wit- 
 ness, to affirm, to declare. So the Germans call 
 their clergymen -predicants , because they bear wit- 
 ness to and declare the gospel. But in English, 
 predicate is a technical word used by grammarians 
 to express that element of the sentence which affirms 
 something of the subject, or (as a noun) that which 
 
MISUSED WORDS. I47 
 
 is affirmed. And thus action may be predicated*?/* 
 a body or an individual ; but action predicated by a 
 body upon circumstances or statements, is simple 
 absurdity. Those persons for whom this distinction 
 is too subtle had better confine themselves to plain 
 English, and ask, What are you going to do about 
 it? — language good enough for a chief justice or 
 a prime minister. 
 
 Present. — The use of this word for introduce 
 is an affectation. Persons of a certain rank in Eu- 
 rope are presented at court ; and the craving of 
 every item of the sovereign people of this demo- 
 cratic republic to be presented at the Tuileries 
 affords one of the greatest charms of the life of 
 our minister resident near that court, and is the 
 chief solace of his diplomatic labors. In France, 
 every person, in being made acquainted with an- 
 other, is presented, the French language not having 
 made the distinction which is made in England be- 
 tween -present and introduce. We present foreign 
 ministers to the President ; we introduce, or should 
 introduce, our friends to each other. We intro- 
 duce the younger to the older, the person of lower 
 position to the person of higher, the gentleman to 
 the lady — not the older to the younger — the lad^ 
 to the gentleman. Yet some ladies will speak of 
 being introduced to such and such a gentleman. Is 
 this a revolutionary intimation that they set nothing 
 by the deference which man in his strength and mas- 
 tery and sexual independence pays to their weak- 
 ness, their charms, and their actual or probable 
 motherhood? 
 
 Quite means completely, entirely, in a finished 
 
I48 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 manner. It is from the French quitte, discharged, 
 and is akin to quits, the word used by players of 
 games to mean that they are even with each other. 
 Therefore the common phrase, miscalled an Amer- 
 icanism, quite a number, is unjustifiable. A cup or 
 a theatre may be quite full ; and there may be quite 
 a pint in the cup, or quite a thousand people in the 
 theatre, and neither may be quite full. But number 
 is indefinite in its signification, and therefore can- 
 not be properly qualified by quite. Yet Thomas 
 Hughes, whom we all think of as Tom Brown, 
 in his letter about the Oxford and Harvard boat 
 race, spoke of "quite a number of young Ameri- 
 cans." 
 
 Railroad Depot is the abominable name usu- 
 ally given in this country to a railway station. In 
 England they generally say railway ; but some of 
 their companies are styled Railroad Companies. In 
 America the compound most in use is railroad, but 
 we have the Erie Railway Company, and others of 
 like name. How the difference came about it would 
 be difficult to discover ; but railway is absolutely 
 right, and railroad, at least, measurably wrong. 
 A way is that which guides or directs a course, 
 or that upon which anything moves or is carried. 
 Hence, we say that a ship, when she is launched, 
 glides into the water upon her ways. The ways 
 upon which a ship is launched are very like those 
 which guide railway carriages, and which at first 
 were called tramways. A road is the ground rid- 
 den over, the land appropriated to travel, and used 
 as a means of communication between place and 
 place. A railway is laid ufon a road, and the road 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 1 49 
 
 is always somewhat, and generally very much, wider 
 than the way. But the calling a way, a road, is a 
 venial offence compared to that of calling a station 
 a depot. Every despot is a station, although not in 
 all cases a passenger or even a freight station ; but 
 very few stations are depots. A dep>6t is a place 
 where stores and materials are deposited for safe 
 keeping. A little lonely shanty, which looks like 
 a lodge outside a garden of cucumbers, a staging 
 of a few planks upon w r hich two or three people 
 stand like criminals on the scaffold — to call such 
 places depots is the height of pretentious absurd- 
 ity. But it is not less incorrect to give the same 
 name to the most imposing building, which is used 
 merely as a stopping place for trains and pas- 
 sengers. Station means merely a standing, as in 
 the well-known passage in Hamlet, — 
 
 "A station like the herald Mercury 
 New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill," — 
 
 and a railway station is a railway standing — a place 
 where trains and passengers stand for each other. 
 There is no justification whatever for calling such a 
 place a depot. And to aggravate the offence of so 
 doing as much as possible, the word is pronounced 
 in a manner which is of itself an affront to com- 
 mon sense and good taste — that is, neither day- 
 poh, as it should be if it is used as a French word, 
 nor dee-pott, as it should be if it has been adopted 
 as an English word. With an affectation of French 
 pronunciation as becoming as a French bonnet or 
 French manners to some of those who wear them, 
 it is called dee-poh, the result being a hybrid Eng- 
 
I50 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 lish-French monster, which, with the phrase of 
 which it forms a part, should be put out of existence 
 with all convenient despatch. 
 
 Real Estate is a compound that has no proper 
 place in the language of every-day life, where it is 
 merely a pretentious intruder from the technical 
 province of law. Law makes the distinction of real 
 and personal estate ; but a man does not, therefore, 
 talk of drawing some personal estate from the bank, 
 or going to Tiffany's to buy some personal estate for 
 his wife ; nor, when he has an interest in the na- 
 tional debt, does he ask how personal estate is sell- 
 ing. He draws money, buys jewels, asks the price 
 of bonds. Real estate, as ordinarily used, is a mere 
 big-sounding, vulgar phrase for houses and land, 
 and, so used, is a marked and unjustifiable Ameri- 
 canism. Our papers have columns headed in large 
 letters, "Real Estate Transactions," the heading 
 of which should be Sales of Land. 
 
 Recollect is used by many persons wrongly for 
 refnember. When we do not remember what we 
 wish to speak of, we try to re-collect it. Misrec- 
 ollect appeared in a leading article in the " Tribune" 
 not long ago — a word hardly on a par with Biddy's 
 disremember. We either can or cannot recollect 
 what we do not at once remember. We cannot 
 recollect amiss, unless it be that we recollect the 
 facts, but not in their proper order. 
 
 Religion is constantly used as if it were a 
 synonyme of -piety, to the obliteration of a very 
 important distinction in ethics, and the consequent 
 misleading of many minds. Religion is a bond, 
 according to which all who acknowledge it assume 
 the performance of certain duties and rites having 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 151 
 
 relation to a supreme being, or to a future state of 
 existence, or to both. Piety is that motive of human 
 action which has its spring in the desire to do good, 
 in the reverence for what is good, and in the spon- 
 taneous respect for the claims of kindred or grati- 
 tude. There are many religions : there is but one 
 piety. Judaism is a religion ; Mohammedanism is 
 a religion ; Christianity has become a religion, 
 within which are two religions, the Roman Catholic 
 and the Protestant. And as to which of all these is 
 the true religion, very different views are honestly 
 held by Jews, Mohammedans, Roman Catholics, 
 and Protestants, all of wdiom may be pious with the 
 same piety. Socrates inculcated piety ; but when, 
 on his death-bed, with his last breath, he reminded 
 his friend to sacrifice a cock to^Esculapius, he con- 
 formed to the rites of a religion he w r as put to death 
 for attempting to undermine. When Christ kept 
 the Passover, he conformed to a rite of Judaism into 
 which he had been born and in which he had been 
 bred. But he was put to death by the priests and 
 the Pharisees chiefly because he taught the need- 
 lessness of that very religion. The Sermon in the 
 Mount teaches not religion, but piety. 
 
 Remit. — Why should this word be thrust contin- 
 ually into the place of send? In its proper sense, to 
 send back, and hence to relax, to relinquish, to sur- 
 render, to forgive, it is a useful and respectable 
 word ; but why one man should say to another, I will 
 remit you the money, instead of, I will send you the 
 money, it would be difficult to say, did we not so 
 frequently see the propensity of people for a big 
 word of which they do not know the meaning ex- 
 actly, in preference to a small one that they have 
 
152 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 understood from childhood. This leads people, 
 in the present instance, to speak even of sending 
 remittances, than which it would be hard to find an 
 absurder phrase. But it sounds, they think, much 
 finer to say, My correspondents have not sent the 
 remittances I expected, instead of, My friends have 
 not sent me the money I looked for. 
 
 Restive means standing stubbornly still, not 
 frisky, as some people seem to think it does. A 
 restive horse is a horse that balks; but horses that 
 are restless are frequently called restive. Restive- 
 ness, however, is one sign of rebellion in horses. 
 Thus Dryden (quoted by Johnson) : — 
 
 "The pampered colt will discipline disdain, 
 Impatient of the lash, and restiff to the rein." 
 
 Hence a misapprehension, by which those who did 
 not understand the word, were led to a complete 
 reversion of meaning. 
 
 Reverend and Honorable. — The editor of a 
 western newspaper has asked me the following 
 question: "In speaking of a clergyman — not a 
 Catholic or an Episcopalian — is it proper to say 
 the Rev. John Jones, for instance, or, simply, Rev. 
 John Jones? If it is proper to say the Rev. John 
 Jones, why is it not proper to say the Captain Tom 
 Robinson, or the General Robert Smith?" 
 
 The article is absolutely required. The sect to 
 which the clergyman belongs does not affect the ques- 
 tion. Between Reverend and Captain or General 
 there is no analogy. The latter are names of offices ; 
 they are titles pertaining of right to the persons who 
 hold those offices. Reverend is not the name of an 
 office, nor is it a title, and it belongs to no one of 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 153 
 
 right. Clergymen are styled Reverend by a cour- 
 tesy which supposes that every man set apart for 
 his special sanctity and wisdom as an example, a 
 guide, and an instructor, is worthy of reverence. 
 So members of Congress are styled Honorable, but 
 by mere courtesy. But in Congress does a member 
 ever rise and say, "I heartily agree with the views 
 
 which honorable gentleman from has just laid 
 
 before the House. Honorable gentleman could not 
 have presented them with greater force or clear- 
 ness " ? The most unlettered and careless speaker 
 in the House of Representatives would say the 
 honorable gentleman. Honorable and Reverend 
 are not even courtesy titles ; they are adjectives, 
 mere epithets applied at first (the one to men of 
 consequence, and the other to clergymen) with 
 special meaning, but afterward from custom only. 
 The impropriety of omitting the article can be 
 clearly shown by a transposition of the epithet and 
 the name, which does not affect the sense. For 
 instance, Henry Ward Beecher, the Reverend ; 
 Charles Sumner, the Honorable ; not Henry Ward 
 Beecher, Reverend ; Charles Sumner, Honorable. 
 But the transposition which has this effect in the 
 case of epithets has none in that of official titles ; 
 thus : Winfield Hancock, Major-General, Samuel 
 Nelson, Judge, which, indeed, are very common 
 modes of writing such names and titles. The omis- 
 sion of the article has been the cause of a misappre- 
 hension on the part of many persons as to the name 
 of the ecclesiastical historian to whom we owe so 
 much of our knowledge of our Anglo-Saxon fore- 
 fathers in England. He was styled by his succes- 
 
154 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 sors the Venerable Bede ; but this having been 
 written in Latin Vencrabilis Beda, he has often 
 been mentioned by British writers as Venerable 
 Bede, which some readers have taken, as a whole, 
 for his name. (I have more than once heard the 
 question mooted among intelligent people.) He 
 was merely called Bede, the venerable; but the 
 Latin has no article ; and hence the mistake of call- 
 ing him Venerable Bede. We may correctly speak 
 of a distinguished prelate who recently died as 
 Bishop Hopkins, as the Right Reverend Bishop 
 Hopkins, or as the Right Reverend John Henry 
 Hopkins, Bishop (not the Bishop) of Vermont. 
 But if we speak of the officer without mention of 
 the individual, even although we give the courtesy 
 epithet, we should use the article before the title, 
 as, the Right Reverend the Bishop of Vermont; 
 and so, in speaking of a military officer by name, 
 the article is not admissible; but if we speak of the 
 officer without mentioning the name, the article is 
 required : thus, Major-General Meade, Command- 
 ing-in-Chief, but, the Major-General Commanding- 
 in-Chief. 
 
 Sample Room. — This confluent eruption has 
 appeared on sign-boards all over New York during 
 the last few years. Thus used, it means, not a 
 room in which samples are displayed, but simply a 
 place at which spirits and beer may be had by the 
 glass, and is the fruit of a nauseous attempt to 
 sweeten bar-room, ale-house, and tavern. Its his- 
 tory is a very disgusting one. It first appeared in 
 small, shame-faced letters over the doors of par- 
 titions put up across the back part of certain so- 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 
 
 J 55 
 
 called wholesale wine and liquor stores ; and it told 
 of men sponging up liquor by samples until it 
 became necessary to say that if they " sampled " 
 they must pay ; and then of the self-styled whole- 
 sale wine merchant, who was above keeping a 
 bar, finding that it was profitable as well as gen- 
 tlemanly to ask acquaintances to " sample " his 
 liquors ; and of this sham's being kept up until it 
 became necessary to hide the multitudinous " samp- 
 lers" and the multifarious "sampling" from the 
 public and the police by a screen or partition ; and, 
 finally, of the spread of this w gentlemanly " way of 
 keeping a tippling house ; so that the very sight of 
 the word is enough to make one's gorge rise. Very 
 worthy and well-behaved, and even intelligent, men 
 do keep bars and taverns ; but if they do, let them 
 say so. When I see samftle-roo?n over a door, I feel 
 a respect for a bar-room, and as if I could take to my 
 heart a man who owns that he keeps a grog-shop. 
 
 Section. — An unpleasant Americanism for 
 neighborhood, vicinity, quarter, region; as, for in- 
 stance, our section, this section of country. It is 
 western, of course, but has crept eastward against 
 the tide. It is the result of the division of the un- 
 occupied lands at the West, for purposes pf sale, 
 into sections based upon parallels of latitude and 
 longitude. Emigrant parties would buy and settle 
 upon a quarter-section of land ; and they continued 
 talking about their section even after they had 
 homes, and neighborhoods, towns, villages, and 
 counties; a fashion which, even with them, should 
 have had its day, and in which they should not be 
 imitated. 
 
156 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 Sit (one of the verbs a confusion in the use of 
 parts of which has previously been remarked upon) 
 is confounded with another word, set, as most of my 
 readers well know. The commoner mistakes upon 
 this point I pass by ; but some prevail among peo- 
 ple who fancy that they are very exquisite in their 
 speaking. Most of us have heard and laughed at 
 the story of the judge who, when counsel spoke of 
 the setting of the court, took him up with, "No, 
 brother, the court sits ; hens set." But I fear that 
 some of us have laughed in the wrong place. Hens 
 do not set ; they sit, as the court does, and frequently 
 to better purpose. No phrase is more common than 
 "a setting hen," and none more incorrect. A hen 
 sits to hatch her eggs, and, therefore, is a sitting 
 hen. Sit is an active, but an intransitive verb — 
 a very intransitive verb — for it means to put one's 
 self in a position of rest. Set is an active, transi- 
 tive verb — very active and very transitive — for it 
 means to cause another person or thing to sit, willy- 
 nilly. A schoolma'am will illustrate the intransitive 
 verb by sitting down quietly, and then the transitive 
 by giving a pupil a setting down which is anything 
 but quiet. This setting down is metaphorical, and 
 is borrowed from the real, physical setting-down 
 which children sometimes have, much to their as- 
 tonishment. The principal parts of one of these 
 verbs are sit, sat, sitten ; but of the other, the pres- 
 ent, preterite, and the past participle are in form the 
 same, set. Many persons forget this, and use sat 
 as the preterite of set, thus : She sat her pitcher 
 down upon the ground. But as we read in our 
 translation of Matthew's Gospel (chap, xxi.), it was 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 157 
 
 prophesied that Christ should come " sitting upon 
 an ass," and, therefore, his disciples took a colt and 
 "they set him thereon." On the other hand, some 
 persons use the preterite of set for that of sit, e.g., 
 I went in and set down ; while others have invented 
 one labor-saving monosyllable for both these hard- 
 worked verbs. For instance, "I went to meet him 
 at his office, sharp on time, and sot (sat) down and 
 waited for him, and sot, and sot, and sot ; and when 
 he came in, he sot (set) me down that his time was 
 right, because he'd sot (set) his watch that morning 
 by the City Hall clock." I have heard the word 
 thus used by an estimable and not unintelligent mer- 
 chant. As far as the poultry-yard is concerned, the 
 hen- wife sets the hen, but the hen sits. The use of 
 the former word for the latter in this case is so com- 
 mon, and I have heard it defended so stoutly by 
 intelligent people, that I shall not only refer to 
 the dictionaries those of my readers who care to 
 consult them, but cite the following examples in 
 point : — 
 
 As the partridge sitteth on eggs and hatcheth them not, etc. 
 
 Jeremiah, xvii. II. TV. 161 1. 
 
 And birds sit brooding in the snow. 
 
 Love's Labor 's Lost, iv. 3. 
 
 Thou from the first 
 Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread, 
 Dove-like safst brooding on the vast abyss, 
 And mad'st it pregnant. 
 
 Paradise Lost, I. 21. 
 
 When the nominative in a sentence requiring sit 
 or set is the subject of the action, the word is" set ; 
 when the nominative is not the subject, the word 
 is sit; — a rule w T hich, like most of its kind, is su- 
 
158 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 perfluous to those who can understand it, and use- 
 less to those who cannot. 
 
 Sit and set, unlike lie and lay, which have the 
 same relations with each other as the former have, 
 and are subject to a like confusion, have no tenses 
 or participles which are the same in form. 
 
 There is one peculiarity in the use of the two for- 
 mer which is worthy of attention. We say that a 
 man rises and sits ; but that the sun rises and sets. 
 For this use of set, which has prevailed since Eng- 
 lish was a language, and from which it would 
 require an unprecedented boldness to deviate, there 
 is no good reason. It is quite indefensible. Sets 
 is no part of the verb sit ; and as to setting, the sun 
 sets nothing. For we do not mean to say that he 
 sets himself down — an expression which would not 
 at all convey our apprehension of the gradual de- 
 scent and disappearance of the great light of the 
 world. If either of these words be used, we should, 
 according to reason and their meaning, say the sun 
 sits, the sun is sitting. 
 
 I had supposed that this application of the verb 
 set to the sinking of the sun was inexplicable as 
 well as unjustifiable, when it occurred to me that in 
 the phrase in question set might be a corruption of 
 settle. On looking into the matter, I found reason 
 for believing that my conjecture had hit the mark. 
 In tracing this corruption, it should be first observed 
 that the Anglo-Saxon has both the verb sittan (sit) 
 and settan (set). In coming to us, these words 
 have not changed their signification in the least; 
 they have only lost a termination. Indeed, it is only 
 the absence or the presence of this termination that 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 1 59 
 
 makes them in the one case English, and in the 
 other Anglo-Saxon. They have been used straight 
 on, with the same signification by the same race for 
 at least fifteen hundred years. But when that race 
 spoke Anglo-Saxon, they said, neither the sun sets 
 nor the sun sits, but the sun settles, and sometimes 
 the sun sinks ; and his descent they called not sun- 
 set or the sun setting, but the sun settling. Thus 
 the passage in Mark's Gospel, i. 32, which is 
 given thus in our Bible, "And at even, when the 
 sun did set, they brought him all that were dis- 
 eased," etc., appears thus in the Anglo-Saxon ver- 
 sion, "So£>lice Sa hit was oefen geworden 8a sunne 
 to setle eode." That is, Verily when it was even- 
 ing made when the sun to settle went. In Luke's 
 account of the same matter our version has "Now 
 when the sun was setting; but the Anglo-Saxon 
 " SoJ>lice Sa sunne asah" — Verily when the sun 
 sank down. And the Maeso-Gothic version has 
 "Mippanei pan sagq sunno"— when the sun sagg- 
 ed, or sank down. In Genesis, xv. 17, "And it 
 came to pass when the sun went down," we have 
 again in the Anglo-Saxon version "pa pa sunne 
 eode to setle " — when the sun went to settle; and 
 in Deuteronomy, xi. 30, " by the way where the sun 
 goeth down," is in the Anglo-Saxon Bible "be pam 
 wege he lis to sunnen scilgange" — by the way 
 that lieth to the sun settle-going, or settling ; and 
 in Psalms, cxiii. 3, "From the rising of the sun 
 unto the going down of the same " in Anglo-Saxon 
 " From sunnan uprine 08 to setlgange " — From sun's 
 uprising even to settle-going. The word setl in all 
 these passages, is not a verb, but a noun ; and the 
 
l6o WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 exact meaning in each case is that the sun was go- 
 ing seat-ward — toward his seat. All the stronger, 
 therefore, is the conclusion that it is right to say that 
 the sun sits or takes his seat, and wrong to say that 
 he sets : the clear distinction between the two Anglo- 
 Saxon verbs sittan, to sit, to go down, and settan, 
 to place in a seat, to fix, being remembered. 
 
 This conclusion derives yet other support from 
 the fact in the passages of the Bible above cited, 
 and in all others that I have examined in which the 
 same fact is mentioned, the earlier English versions 
 do not use set. WyclifTe's version, made about A. D. 
 1385, Tyndale's, A. D. 1536, Coverdale's, A. D. 
 1535, and the Geneva version, A. D. 1557, have 
 either " when the sun went down," or " when the sun 
 was down." It is not until we reach the Rheims 
 version, A. D. 1582, that we find "in the evening 
 after sunset." In Hereford's version of the Psalter, 
 given in the WyclifFe Bible, we find in the well- 
 known Psalm, cii. 12, " Hou myche the rising stant 
 fro the going don [not the setting] aferr he made 
 fro us our wickidnissis." And according to Her- 
 bert Coleridge's Glossary, sunrising appears in 
 the English of the thirteenth century, but sunset is 
 not found. It would seem that the corruption of 
 setle into set, although prevailing in common speech, 
 by which it had been handed down from the time 
 when our language passed from its Anglo-Saxon 
 into its early English period, and among vulgar 
 writers, was not recognized by scholars until near 
 the end of the sixteenth century. 
 
 I offer, not dogmatically, but yet with a great 
 degree of confidence, this explanation of our singu- 
 
MISUSED WORDS. l6l 
 
 lar use of the verb set to express the descent of the 
 sun to the horizon ; warning my readers at the same 
 time that the definitions of set in dictionaries, as 
 meaning to go down, to decline, to finish a course, 
 all rest upon the presence, or rather the supposed 
 presence, of this word in the old and common 
 phrase sunset, w r hich is really an abbreviation of 
 ■sun-settling, the modern form of sunn an-setl gang. 
 Sociable, Social. — We are in danger of losing 
 a fine and valuable distinction between these words. 
 This is to be deplored, and, if possible, prevented. 
 The desynonymizing tendency of language enriches 
 it by producing words adapted to the expression 
 of various delicate shades of meaning. But the 
 promiscuous use of two words each of which has a 
 meaning peculiar to itself, by confounding distinc- 
 tions impoverishes language, and deprives it at once 
 of range and of power. The meaning of sociable 
 is, fitted for society, ready for companionship, quick 
 to unite with others — generally for pleasure. So- 
 cial expresses the relations of men in society, com- 
 munities, or commonwealths. Hence, social sci- 
 ence. But there is no sociable science, although 
 some French women are said to make societe an 
 art. A man who is an authority upon social mat- 
 ters may be a very unsociable person. Those who 
 are inclined to like that strange kind of entertain- 
 ment called a social surprise, the charm of which is 
 in the going in large bodies to a friend's house 
 unannounced and unexpected, should at least call 
 their performance a sociable surprise ; for it must 
 be the crucial test of the sociability of him to whom 
 it is administered. It may possibly tend to a pleas- 
 ii 
 
l62 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 ant sociability among those whose taste it suits ; but 
 its social tendency is quite another matter. 
 
 Special is a much overworked word, it being 
 loosely used to mean great in degree, also peculiar 
 in kind, for the particular as opposed to the gen- 
 eral, and for the specific as opposed to the generic. 
 Sometimes it seems to express a union or resultant 
 of all these senses. This loose and comprehensive 
 employment of the word is very old, at least six 
 hundred years ; and yet it cannot but be regarded 
 as a reproach to the language. But to point out the 
 fault is easier than to suggest a remedy, other than 
 the dropping of the first and third uses, in which 
 it is at least superfluous. 
 
 Splendid suffers from indiscriminate use, as 
 awful does, but chiefly on the part of those whom 
 our grandfathers were wont to call, in collective 
 compliment, the fair. A man will call some radiant 
 beauty a splendid woman ; but a man of any culture 
 will rarely mar the well-deserved compliment of 
 such an epithet by applying it to any inferior excel- 
 lence. But with most women nowadays everything 
 that is satisfactory is splendid. A very charming 
 one, to whose self the word might have been well 
 applied, regarded a friend of mine with that look of 
 personal injury with which women meet minor dis- 
 appointments from the stronger sex, because he did 
 not agree, avec effusion, that a hideous little dog 
 lying in her lap was " perfectly splendid ; " and once 
 a bright, intelligent being in muslin at my side pred- 
 icated perfect splendor of a slice of roast beef which 
 was rapidly disappearing before her, any dazzling 
 qualities of which seemed to me to be due to her own 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 1 63 
 
 sharp appetite. The sun is splendid, a tiara of dia- 
 monds may be splendid, poetry may be metaphori- 
 cally splendid. But all good poetry is not splendid ; 
 for instance, Gray's "Elegy." The use of splendid 
 to express very great excellence is coarse. 
 
 State is much misused in the sense of say. 
 State, from status, perfect participle of the Latin 
 verb meaning to stand, means to set forth the con- 
 dition under which a person, or a thing, or a cause, 
 stands. A bankrupt is called upon to state his con- 
 dition, to make a statement of his affairs. But if a 
 man merely says a thing, do let us merely say he 
 sa} T s it. 
 
 Storm is misused by many people, who say that 
 it is storming when they mean merely that it is 
 raining. A storm is a tumult, a commotion of the 
 elements ; but rain may fall as gently as mercy. 
 There are dry storms. Women sometimes storm 
 in this way; with little effect, however, except upon 
 very weak brethren. But the gentle rain from a 
 fair woman's eyes, few human creatures, not of her 
 own sex, can resist. A dry storm not unfrequently 
 passes off in rain. Hence, perhaps, the confusion 
 of the two words. 
 
 Tea is no less or more than tea ; and while we 
 call strong broth beef tea, or a decoction of cam- 
 omile flowers camomile tea, we cannot consistently 
 laugh at Biddy when she asks whether we will have 
 tay tay or coffee tay. 
 
 Transpire. — Of all misused words, this verb is 
 probably the most perverted. It is now very com- 
 monly used for the expression of a mode of action 
 with which it has no relations whatever. Words 
 
164 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 may wander, by courses more or less tortuous, so 
 far from their original meaning as to make it almost 
 impossible to follow their traces. An instance of 
 this, well known to students of language, is the 
 word buxom, which is simply bow-some or bough- 
 some, i. e., that which readily bows or yields, like 
 the boughs of a tree. No longer ago than when 
 Milton wrote, boughsome, which, as gh in English 
 began to lose its guttural sound, — that of the letter 
 chi in Greek,; — came to be written buxom, meant 
 simply yielding, and was of general application. 
 
 " and, this once known, shall soon return, 
 And bring ye to the place where thou and Death 
 Shall dwell at ease, and up and down unseen 
 Wing silently the buxom air." — Paradise Lost, II. 840. 
 
 But aided, doubtless, as Dr. Johnson suggests, 
 by a too liberal construction of the bride's promise in 
 the old English marriage ceremony, to be "obedi- 
 ent and buxom in bed and board," it came to be ap- 
 plied to women who were erroneously thought likely 
 to be thus 3'ielding ; and hence it now means plump, 
 rosy, alluring, and is applied only to women who 
 combine those qualities of figure, face, and expres- 
 sion. Transpire, however, has passed through no 
 such gradual modification of meaning. It has not 
 been modified, but forced. Its common abuse is 
 due solely to the blunder of persons who used it 
 although they were ignorant of its meaning, at which 
 they guessed. Transpire means to breathe through, 
 and so to pass off insensibly. The identical word 
 exists in French, in which language it is the equiva- 
 lent of our perspire, which also means to breathe 
 through, and so to pass off insensibly. The French- 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 165 
 
 man says, J'az beaucouf transpire — I have much 
 perspired. In fact, transpire and -pcrsfire are 
 etymologically as nearly perfect synonymes as the 
 nature of language permits ; the latter, however, 
 has, by common consent, been set apart in English 
 to express the passage of a watery secretion through 
 the skin, while the former is properly used only in 
 a figurative sense to express the passage of knowl- 
 edge from a limited circle to publicity. Here follow 
 examples of the proper, and the only proper or 
 tolerable use of this word. The first, which is 
 very characteristic and interesting, is from How- 
 ell's Letters : — 
 
 "It is a true observation that among other effects of affliction, 
 one is to try a friend ; for those proofs that were made in the 
 shining, dazzling sunshine are not so clear as those which 
 break out and transpire through the dark clouds of adversity." — 
 1.6,55- 
 
 The next three, because I have had such frequent 
 occasion to censure severely the general use of 
 words in newspapers, I have pleasure in saying, are 
 from the columns of New York journals : - — 
 
 "Who the writer of this pamphlet was, who, four years before 
 the great uprising in 1848, saw so clearly, and spoke so pointed- 
 ly, has, to our knowledge, never transpired." 
 
 " After twelve o'clock last night it transpired that the Massa- 
 chusetts delegation had voted unanimously in caucus to present 
 the name of General Butler for Vice-President." 
 
 "It transpired Monday that the 'Boston Daily Advertiser' has 
 been recently sold to a new company for something less than two 
 hundred and fifty thousand dollars." 
 
 The following very marked and instructive ex- 
 ample of the correct use of transpire is — marvellous 
 to relate — from one of the telegrams of the Associ- 
 ated Press : — 
 
l66 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 " At a quarter past four o'clock Judge Fisher received a com- 
 munication from the jury, and he sent a written reply. The 
 subject of the correspondence has not transpired." 
 
 The next is from the London "Times : " — 
 
 " The Liberals of Nottingham, England, have selected Lord 
 Amberley and Mr. Handel Cossham as their candidates. It has 
 not yet transpired who the conservative candidate will be. The 
 election, the first after the vote on the Reform bill, will be ot 
 great importance." 
 
 But the same number of the same paper furnishes, 
 in the report of a speech by a member of Parlia- 
 ment (I neglected to note by whom), the following 
 example of the misuse of the word in the sense of 
 occur, take place. The insurrection in Jamaica 
 was the subject of discussion. 
 
 " So that, notwithstanding that the population of the Island 
 was 450,000, it was stated that only 1,500 voted for the mem- 
 bers of the Legislature. The whole thing had culminated 
 in the horrors and the atrocities which had lately transpired 
 there, and which he was obliged to believe had thrown discredit 
 upon the English government and the English character in every 
 other country in the world." 
 
 So I find it said, in a prominent New York news- 
 paper, that "the Mexican war transpired in the year 
 1847." The writer might as well — and, consider- 
 ing the latitude in which the battles were fought, 
 might better — have said that the Mexican war 
 perspired in the year 1847. The most monstrous 
 perversion of the word that I have ever met with — 
 than'which it would seem that none could be more 
 monstrous — is in the following sentences, the first 
 and second from papers of the highest position, the 
 last from a volume of which tens of thousands have 
 been sold, and which aspires to the dignity of his- 
 tory : — 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 167 
 
 "Before this can be finished, years may transpire; indeed, it 
 may take as long to complete the West Bank Island Hospital as 
 it has taken to erect the new Court-house." 
 
 "The police drill will transpire under shelter to-day in conse- 
 quence of the moist atmosphere prevailing." 
 
 "More than a century was allowed to transpire before the 
 Mississippi was revisited by civilized man." 
 
 To any person who has in mind the meaning of 
 the word, the idea of years and centuries and police 
 drills transpiring, is ridiculous. 
 
 There is a very simple test of the correct use of 
 transpire. If the phrase take -place can be substi- 
 tuted for it, and the intended meaning of the sentence 
 is preserved, its use is unquestionably wrong ; if the 
 other colloquial phrase, leak out, can be put in its 
 place, its use is correct. 
 
 This is illustrated in the following sentence : — 
 
 "An important cabinet meeting was held to-day; but what 
 took place did not transpire." * 
 
 * The writer of an article in the "Methodist Quarterly Review" thus boldly 
 advocates the misuse of transpire, and flouts those who oppose it : — 
 
 ' ' We have no one word to express the regular coming i?ito existence of an event. 
 . . . Now, there is a word which is fresh and clear, which is not very irrevocably ap- 
 propriated to any other idea, and which by popular healthy instinct is aspiring to occupy 
 the blank spot. The word is transpire. ' O, no,' exclaim the effeminates, ' that word 
 must not designate the taking place of an event ; it signifies to become known. ' It is 
 of no use to tell these imbeciles that the latter meaning is itself little known, little used, 
 and little needed, while the want it is called to supply is a startling defect in the entire 
 language. You may supply reasons, but you cannot supply brains. Your only method 
 is to use the needed word in the needing place, and leave the shrieking pedant to his 
 spasms." 
 
 To this the answer is, first, that transpire is misused to express not the regular com- 
 ing into existence of an event, but the most hap-hazard accidents of daily life, as any 
 one may see: next, the flat contradiction of the assertion that the meaning, to become 
 known, is little known, little used, and little needed. Of the contrary, examples are 
 given above, taken from newspapers of the day; and here follow others, recently taken 
 from the minor news reports of two New York journals, the "Times" and the 
 "Tribune," which, although they may sometimes have been written by imbeciles, it 
 would seem are rarely or never from the pens of pedants : — 
 
 " Nothing new transpired concerning the steamer Euterpe yesterday. Workmen 
 were engaged in filling her with a quantity of hay," &c. 
 
l68 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 Those Sort. — Many persons who should, and 
 who, perhaps, do, know better, are in the habit of 
 using this incongruous combination, exgr. , those sort 
 of men, instead of that sort of men. The pronoun 
 (so-called) belongs to sort, and not to men. It would 
 be as proper to say, those company of soldiers. 
 
 Truism is often used for truth, as if such use 
 were more elegant and scholarly ; whereas it is the 
 reverse. For instance, take the following sentence 
 from a leading article in a high-class New York 
 newspaper : — 
 
 " That the rents charged for tenements on the lower part of 
 this island are higher than men of moderate means can afford 
 to pay, is a palpable truism." 
 
 It is no such thing. The writer meant to say that 
 
 " It transpires that the Gould-Fisk control of the Bank is not to be consummated 
 until January, although Jay Gould is already a director." 
 
 "Hannah Baker, a child nine years old, was kidnapped near her home, in Park 
 Avenue, by Catharine Turner, and taken to New York, where it transpired that the 
 child disowned the woman as her mother," &c. 
 
 " Soon after the funeral, however, it transpired that the supposed dead and buried 
 woman was alive and in good health, the fact being made certain to her daughters by 
 her actual, living presence." 
 
 And see the following passage from the very preamble to Resolutions passed at a 
 political meeting within the erudite precincts of Tammany Hall, on the evening of 
 March 29, 1870: — 
 
 " Whereas, A call for a meeting of the General Committee, to be held in Tammany 
 Hall this evening, has been issued, having for its ostensible purpose the consideration 
 of measures of legislation relating to this city, but it has transpired that this movement 
 has originated with Mr. John Morrissey and his prominent associates," &c, &c. 
 
 The contemporary London press would also furnish numberless instances like the 
 following : — 
 
 " A meeting of the Tory party was called by Mr. Disraeli, on Wednesday, at Lord 
 Lonsdale's house. The meeting was fully attended, — Lord Stanley, however, being 
 absent, — and no report of its proceedings was allowed to transpire." — Spectator, 
 April 17, 1869. 
 
 A page of such examples might be taken even from newspapers published within a 
 week of the publication of the 'Methodist Quarterly's' assertion, quoted above. The 
 truth is, that this word seems to be used in its proper sense by all who know its 
 meaning, in which sense it is valuable, and occupies a place which can be filled by 
 no other. 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 1 69 
 
 his proposition was plainly true ; but to say so sim- 
 ply would have been far too simple a style for him. 
 He must write like a moralist or a philosopher, 
 according to his notion of their writing. A truism 
 is a self-evident truth ; a truth, not merely the truth 
 in the form of a true assertion of fact. Thus : The 
 sun is bright, is not a truism : it is a self-evident 
 fact, but not a self-evident truth. But, All men 
 must die, Youth is weak before temptation, are tru- 
 isms ; i. e., self-evident, or generally admitted truths. 
 Ult., Inst., Prox. — These contractions of ulti- 
 mo ^ instante, and proximo, should be used as little 
 as possible by those who wish to write simple Eng- 
 lish. It is much better to say last month, this 
 month, next month. The contractions are conven- 
 ient, however ; and much must be sacrificed to con- 
 venience in the use of language. But from the 
 usage in question a confusion has arisen, of which 
 I did not know until I was requested to decide a 
 dispute whether, in a letter written, for instance, on 
 the 15th of September, "the ioth ult.," would mean 
 the last ioth, i. e., the ioth of September, or the ioth 
 of the last month, i. e., the ioth of August, and "the 
 20th prox." would mean the next 20th or the 20th of 
 the next month, October. Ult. and prox. are con- 
 tractions of ultimo and -proximo, which are the abla- 
 tive cases of ultimus and proximus, and mean, not 
 the last and the next, but in the last and in the next 
 — what? The last and the next month. Ultimo 
 and proximo are themselves contractions of ultimo 
 mense, in the last month, and proximo mense, in 
 the next month; so that "the ioth ult." means 
 the ioth day in the last month, and "the 20th 
 
I70 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 prox." the 20th day in the next month. In- 
 stant is instante mense, the month now standing 
 before us. We do a thing instantly, or on the in- 
 stant, when we do it at the present moment, the 
 moment standing before us. But I submit it to the 
 good sense of my readers that it is better to write 
 August 10th and October 20th, than to write 10th 
 ult. and 20th prox., and nearly as expeditious and 
 convenient. 
 
 Utter. — This word is merely outer in another 
 form. The outer, or utter, darkness of the New 
 Testament is the darkness of a place completely 
 outside of the rea]m of light. To utter is merely to 
 put out, to put forth, or outside of the person utter- 
 ing. Utter nonsense is that which is entirely outside 
 the pale of reason. This outwardness is the essence 
 of the word in all its legitimate uses, and in all its 
 modifications. But some people seem to think that 
 because, for instance, utter darkness is perfect dark- 
 ness, and utter nonsense absolute nonsense, there- 
 fore utter means perfect, absolute, complete. Thus, 
 in a criticism in a literary paper upon a great pic- 
 ture, it is said of the color that "the effect is that of 
 utter harmony ; " and in one of Mrs. Edwards's 
 novels, she says of a girl and a man, "Nelly's 
 nature fitted into his nature utterly." This is sheer 
 nonsense, unless we agree to deprive utterly of its 
 proper meaning, and make it do superfluous duty 
 as a mere synonyme of complete and ferfect, which 
 would be by just so much to impoverish and confuse 
 our language. The use of this word in the sense 
 of absolutely is not, however, of recent or of popu- 
 lar origin. Witness the following examples : — 
 
MISUSED WORDS. I"JI 
 
 " Full cunningly these lords two he grette, 
 And did his message, asking him anon 
 If that they were broken, or aught wo begon, 
 Or had need of lodesmen or vitaile, 
 For socoure they shoulde nothing feile, 
 For it was utterly the queenes will." 
 
 Chaucer, Legend of Good Women, i. 1460. 
 " It is not necessary that Traditions and Ceremonies be in all 
 places tttterly alike." 
 
 Thirty-Nine Articles of the Church of England, Art. 34. 
 
 Ventilate. — Many persons object to the use 
 of this word in the sense of to bring into discussion, 
 on the ground that it is a neologism. This use, of 
 course, is metaphorical ; andwhile we may say that 
 a man airs his notions at a public meeting or in a 
 newspaper, I am not prepared to defend the good 
 taste of saying that he ventilates them. But this 
 use of ventilate is not a neologism, as appears by 
 this passage in a state paper of the time of Henry 
 the Eighth, quoted by Froude : " Nor shall it ever 
 be seen that the king's cause shall be ventilated or 
 decided in any place out of his own realm." 
 
 Veracity. — It is newspaper English to say, as 
 nowadays is often said, that a man is "a man of 
 truth and veracity." Veracity is merely an Angli- 
 cized Latin synonyme of truthfulness. Truth and 
 veracity is a weak pleonasm. But veracity is prop- 
 ery applied to persons, truth to things. A story is 
 or is not true ; a man is or is not veracious — if 
 truthful is too plain a word. We may doubt the 
 truth of a story because we doubt the veracity, or, 
 better, the truthfulness, of the teller. 
 
 Vicinity. — This word is subject to no perversion 
 of sense that I have observed ; but it is very often in- 
 correctly and vulgarly used without the possessive 
 
172 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 pronoun necessary to define it and cause it to express 
 a thing instead of a thought. Thus : New York and 
 vicinity, instead of New York and its vicinity. With 
 equal correctness and good taste we might say, 
 New York and neighborhood; which no one, I 
 believe, would think of doing. This error has 
 arisen from the frequent occurrence of such phrases 
 as, this city and vicinity, i. e., this city and this 
 vicinity, this being understood. So we may say, 
 this village and neighborhood. When a pronoun 
 is used before a common noun, as, this town, this 
 village, it need not be repeated after the conjunction 
 which unites the noun to vicinity. But otherwise a 
 pronoun is required before vicinity, just as one is 
 before neighborhood, which, in most cases in which 
 vicinity is used, is the better, as well as the shorter, 
 word. 
 
 Vulgar, the primitive meaning of which is com- 
 mon, and which, from its frequent qualification of 
 the conduct and the speech of the vulgar, came in 
 natural course, to mean low, rude, impolite, is often 
 misused in the sense of immodest. A lady not 
 without culture said to another of a third, " She 
 dresses very low ; but as she has no figure, it doesn't 
 look vulgar;" meaning, by the feminine malice of 
 her apology, that it did not look immodest. The 
 gown was perhaps low enough (at the to'p) to be 
 vulgar, if material lowness were vulgarity ; but only 
 that which is metaphorically low is vulgar. 
 
 Widow W t oman. — Here is an unaccountable 
 superfluity of words ; for it would seem that the 
 most ignorant of those persons who use the phrase 
 must know that a widow is necessarily a woman. 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 173 
 
 It would be as well to say a female lady, or a she 
 cow. The error is hardly worth this notice ; but 
 the antiquity of the word widow in exactly the same 
 sense in which it is now used, the remoteness of its 
 origin, and the vast distance which it has travelled 
 through ages without alteration of any kind, — ex- 
 cept as to the pronunciation of v and w, which are 
 continually interchanging, not only in various lan- 
 guages but in the same language, — make it an unu- 
 sually interesting word. How many thousand years 
 this name for a bereaved woman has been used, by 
 what variety of nations, and over what extent of 
 earth's surface, it would not be easy to determine. 
 Our Anglo-Saxon forefathers used it a thousand 
 years ago in England and in North Germany ; they 
 spelled it widuwe or witdewe. The Magso-Goths, 
 in the fourth century, for the same thing used the 
 same word — widowo. But nearly a thousand years 
 before that time it was used by the Latin people, 
 who wrote it vidua. And yet again, a thousand 
 years and more backward, on the slopes of the 
 Himalayas a bereaved wife was called a widow ; 
 for in the Sanscrit of the Rig Veda we find the 
 word vidhavd* Pronounce the v as w, and see 
 how simply each stricken woman has taken this 
 word from her stricken sister and passed it on from 
 lip to lip as they were bearing our fathers in the 
 weary pilgrimage of war and suffering through un- 
 told ages from what is now the remotest bounds of 
 civilization. The Sanscrit vidhavd is merely the 
 
 * I give this on the authority of Max Muller. My having in Sanscrit, like Orlando's 
 beard, is a younger.brother's revenue — what I can glean from the well-worked fields 
 of my elders and betters. 
 
174 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 word dhavd, a man, and vi, without; so that the 
 word at its original formation meant simply a wo- 
 man left without a man, just as it does to-day ; and it 
 has remained all these ages materially unchanged 
 both in sound and meaning. 
 
 Widow is one of the very few words of which the 
 feminine form is the original ; for owing to the traits, 
 functions, and relations of the sexes, among no peo- 
 ple would a peculiar name be first given to a man 
 who was deprived of a woman. It would be only 
 after the condition of widowhood had been long 
 recognized, and conventional usages had narrowed 
 and straitened the sexual relations, that it would 
 enter the mind of a people to give widow its mascu- 
 line companion-word. It must be admitted that in 
 English this has been done clumsily. Widower is 
 a poor, feeble w T ord in all respects, and particularly 
 in respect to its etymology. Widower should mean 
 one who makes widows, or one who has widows ; 
 and how this word happened to receive its present 
 form is beyond my conjecture. But finely formed 
 and touching as the original feminine word is, it 
 was inevitable that the preposterousness of forming 
 upon it a masculine counterpart should produce 
 monstrosity. The same difficulty did not occur in 
 Latin ; for although it would seem that the word 
 must have come into that language in its original 
 feminine form, yet, as the Latin had gender, all that 
 was necessary was to give vidua a masculine ter- 
 mination, and it became viduus, or a neuter, and 
 it became viduum. It was an adjective in Latin, as 
 doubtless it was first in Sanscrit, and it became a 
 noun also, like many adjectives in most languages. 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 1 75 
 
 By metaphor it came to mean deprived, deprived 
 of anything. But until recently deprived was given 
 in Latin lexicons as its primary meaning, and de- 
 prived of wife or husband was given as its secon- 
 dary and dependent meaning,* — preposterously, as 
 we have seen. It must have been applied first to 
 women, then to men, and last to things in general, 
 which is the natural manner of growth in language. 
 Men do not conceive an abstract idea and then pro- 
 ject their thoughts into infinite space in search of a 
 name for the new born ; but having names for par- 
 ticular and concrete objects, they transfer, modify, 
 and combine these names to designate new things 
 and new thoughts. 
 
 Witness. — This word is used by many per- 
 sons as a big synonyme of see, with absurd effect. 
 ff I declare," an enthusiastic son of Columbia says, 
 as he gazes upon New York harbor, " this is the most 
 splendid bay I ever witnessed." In which exclama- 
 tion, by the by, if the speaker has much acquaint- 
 ance with bays, the taste is worthy of the English. 
 Witness, an English or Anglo-Saxon word, is from 
 witan, to know, and means testimony from per- 
 sonal knowledge, and so the person who gives such 
 testimony ; and hence the verb witness, to be able 
 to give testimony from personal knowledge. A 
 man witnesses a murder, an assault, a theft, the 
 execution of a deed, or of the sentence of a felon. 
 He witnesses any act at the performance of which 
 he is present and observing. " Bear witness," 
 
 * For instance, in Leverett's Latin Lexicon, ' ' Viduus, -a, -um, separated, deprived, 
 without anything. Hence, deprived of a husband or wife " ! From the Latin vidua 
 the Italians and French of course have their vedova and veuve. 
 
I76 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 say we, " that I do thus." But we cannot witness a 
 thing : no more a bay or a range of mountains than 
 a poodle dog or a stick of candy. 
 
 And yet, if mere ancient usage and high authority 
 could justify any form of speech, this would not be 
 without an approach to such justification, as will be 
 seen by the following sentence in WyclifTe's "Apolo- 
 gy for the Lollards : " — 
 
 " Forso]? it is an horrible ping fiat in sum kirkes is witnessid 
 marchaundis to haue place." — p. 50, Ed. Camd. Soc 
 
 SQUEAMISH CANT. 
 
 Persons of delicacy so supersensitive that they 
 shrink from plain words, and fear to call things by 
 their names, who think evil of the mothers that bore 
 them, and, if men, of the women who have brought 
 them children, and who are so prurient that they 
 prick up their ears and blush at any implied dis- 
 tinction of sex in language, even in the name of a 
 garment, would do well to avoid the rest of this 
 chapter, which cannot but give them offence. But 
 that would leave me only the well-bred and modest 
 among my readers ; and they are they who least 
 need counsel in the use of language. 
 
 Chemise. — How and why English women came 
 to call their first under-garment a chemise, it is not 
 easy to discover. For in the French language the 
 word means no more or less than shirt, and its 
 meaning is not changed or its sound improved by 
 those who pronounce it shimmy. Of the two names 
 shirt and smock, given at a remote period to this 
 the first was common, like chemise in 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 1 77 
 
 French, to both sexes; e.g., the following passage 
 from Gower's " Confessio Amantis : " — 
 
 "Jason his clothes on him cast, 
 And made him redj right anon, 
 And she her sherte did upon 
 And cast on her a mantel close, 
 Withoute more, and than arose." 
 
 By common consent shirt came to be confined 
 to the man's garment, and smock to the woman's, 
 to express which it was generally, if not univer- 
 sally, used until the middle of the last century. 
 It is now so used by some English women of 
 high rank and breeding, and unimpeachable in 
 propriety of conduct, while by the large majority 
 it is now thought coarse — why, is past conjecture. 
 The place of smock was taken and held for a time 
 by shift — a very poor word for the purpose, the 
 name of the act of changing being applied to the 
 garment changed. As smock followed shirt, so 
 shift has followed smock; and women have returned 
 to shirt again, merely giving it its French name. 
 From this it is more than possible that the grand- 
 daughters of those who now use it with no more 
 thought that it is indelicate than stocking, may shrink 
 as they now do from smock or shift, and for the 
 same reason, or, rather, with the same lack of rea- 
 son. Indeed, the history of our language gives us 
 reason to believe that this will surely happen, unless 
 good sense, simplicity, and real purity of thought 
 should drive out the silly shame that seeks to hide 
 its unnatural face behind a transparent veil of for- 
 eign making. 
 
 Enceinte. — The use of this French word bv 
 English-speaking folk to mean, with child, like that 
 
 12 
 
178 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 of 'accouchement for delivery, seems to me gross, pru- 
 rient, and foolish. Can there be a sweeter, purer 
 phrase applied to a woman, one better fitted to claim 
 for her tenderness and deference from every man, 
 than to say of her that she is with child? What is 
 gained by the use of the French word, or of the round- 
 about phrase " in a delicate situation " ? Certainly 
 nothing is gained in delicacy by implying, as these 
 periphrastic euphemisms do, that her condition is in- 
 delicate. Delicate health may be owing to various 
 causes ; and yet even the phrase "in delicate health" 
 is used by many persons with exclusive limitation 
 to pregnancy or child-bearing. There is about this 
 a cowardly, mean-minded shifting and shuffling 
 which is very contemptible. Can there be in lan- 
 guage anything purer and sweeter than the declara- 
 tion, " Fie shall tenderly lead all those that are with 
 young," or that, "Woe unto them that are with 
 child, and to them that give suck, in those days"? 
 As bad as accouchement is confined, used in a sim- 
 ilar sense — worse, indeed; for the former does 
 mean a bringing to bed. The use of this word is 
 carried by some persons to that pitch of idiocy that, 
 instead of saying of a woman that her child was 
 born at such or such an hour, — half past six, for 
 instance, — they will say that she was confined at 
 half past six; the fact being that she was confined, 
 and from the same cause, just as much a few hours 
 before, and would before some days afterward. 
 This esoteric use of this word is liable to ludicrous 
 and unpleasant consequences — like this. A lady 
 was reading aloud in a circle of friends a letter just 
 received. She read, "We are in great trouble. 
 
MISUSED WORDS. 1 79 
 
 Poor Mary has been confined" — and there she 
 stopped; for that was the last word on a sheet, and 
 the next sheet had dropped and fluttered away, and 
 poor Mary, unmarried, was left really in a delicate 
 situation until the missing sheet was found, and the 
 reader continued — "to her room for three days, 
 with what, we fear, is suppressed scarlet fever." 
 The disuse of the verb to child has been a real loss 
 to our language, with the genius of which it was 
 in perfect harmony, while it expressed the fact in- 
 tended to be conveyed with a simplicity and delicacy 
 which would seem unobjectionable to every one, 
 except those who are so superfinely and super- 
 humanly shameful that they think it immodest that 
 a woman should bear and bring forth a child at all. 
 It might comfort them in the use of this word to re- 
 member that the French, which they regard as a 
 language so much more refined than their own, has 
 in constant use an exactly correspondent word, — 
 enfanter. But that might lead them to say that 
 yesterday Mrs. Jones enfanted. 
 
 Female. — The use of this word for woman is 
 one of the most unpleasant and inexcusable of the 
 common perversions of language. It is not a Brit- 
 icism, although it is much more in vogue among 
 British writers and speakers than among our own. 
 With us lady is the favorite euphemism for woman. 
 For every one of the softer and more ambitious sex 
 who is dissatisfied with her social position, or uncer- 
 tain of it, seems to share Mrs. Quickly's dislike of 
 being called a woman. There is no lack of what is 
 called authoritative usage during three centuries for 
 this misuse of female. But this is one of those per- 
 
ISO WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 versions which are justified by no example, however 
 eminent. A cow, or a sow, or any she brute, is a 
 female, just as a woman is ; as a man is no more a 
 male than a bull is, or a boar; and when a woman 
 calls herself a female, she merely shares her sex 
 with all her fellow-females throughout the brute 
 creation.* 
 
 Gentleman, Lady. — These words have been 
 forced upon us until they have begun to be nau- 
 seous, by people who will not do me the honor of 
 reading this book ; so that any plea here for man 
 and woman would be in vain and out of place. But 
 I will notice a very common misuse of the former, 
 which prevails in business correspondence, in which 
 Mr. A. is addressed as Sir, but the firm of A. B. & 
 Co. as Gentlemen. Now, the plural of Sir is Sirs ; 
 and if gentleman has any significance at all, it ought 
 not to be made common and unclean by being ap- 
 plied to mere business purposes. As to the ado that 
 is made about " Mr. Blank and lady," it seems to 
 me quite superfluous. If it pleases any man to an- 
 nounce on a hotel book that his wife, or any other 
 woman who is travelling under his protection, is a 
 lady, a perfect lady, let him do so in peace. This 
 is a matter of taste and habit. The world is wide, 
 and the freedom of this country has not yet quite 
 deprived us of the right of choosing our associates 
 or of forming our own manners. 
 
 * The following whimsical fling at this squeamishness is from Graham's "Word 
 Gossip, ' ' which has appeared since the publication of these chapters in their original 
 form. Observe the implication that a young person must be of the female sex. This 
 is a Briticism ■ — 
 
 "In the many surgings of the mighty crowd I had actually laboured to assist and 
 protect two (I was going to say ladies, but ladies are grateful ; I can't say young per- 
 sons, for they wern't young ; nor can I say women, for that is considered a slight ; or 
 females, for such persons are no longer supposed to exist) — well, two individuals of a 
 different sex from my own." — p. 79. 
 
MISUSED WORDS. l8l 
 
 Limb. — A squeamishness, which I am really 
 ashamed to notice, leads many persons to use this 
 word exclusively instead of leg. A limb is any- 
 thing which is separated from another thing, and yet 
 joined to it. In old English limbed was used to 
 mean joined. Thus, in the " Ancren Riwle," " Lok- 
 eth that ye beon euer mid onnesse of herte ilimed 
 togeder," i. e., "Look that ye be ever with oneness 
 of heart joined together." The branches of a tree 
 have a separate individual character, and are yet 
 parts of the tree, and thus are limbs. The fingers 
 are properly limbs of the hand ; but the word is 
 generally applied to the greater divisions, both of 
 trees and animals. The limbs of the human body 
 are the arms and the legs ; the latter no more so 
 than the former. Yet some folk will say that by a 
 railway accident one woman had her arms broken, 
 and another her limbs — meaning her legs ; and 
 some will say that she has hurt her leg when her 
 thigh was injured. Perhaps these persons think 
 that it is indelicate for a woman to have legs, and 
 that therefore they are concealed by garments, and 
 should be concealed by speech. If so, Heaven help 
 them ; they are far out of my reach. 1 can only say to 
 them that there is no immodesty in speaking of any 
 part or function of the human body when there is 
 necessity for doing so, and that when they are 
 spoken of it is immodest not to call them by their 
 proper names. The notion that by giving a bad 
 thing a wrong or an unmeaning name, the thing, or 
 the mention of it, is bettered, is surely one of the 
 silliest that ever entered the mind of man. It is 
 the occasion and the purpose of speech that make 
 
l82 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 it modest or immodest, not the thing spoken of, or 
 the giving it its proper name. 
 
 Retire. — If you are going to bed, say so, 
 should there be occasion. Don't talk about retir- 
 ing, unless you would seem like a prig or a prurient 
 prude. 
 
 Rooster. — A rooster is any animal that roosts. 
 Almost all birds are roosters, the hens, of course, 
 as well as the cocks. What sense or delicacy, then, 
 is there in calling the cock of the domestic fowl a 
 rooster, as many people do? The cock is no more 
 a rooster than the hen; and domestic fowls are no 
 more roosters than canary birds or peacocks. Out 
 of this nonsense, however, people must be laughed, 
 rather than reasoned. 
 
SOME BRITICISMS. 1 83 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 SOME BRITICISMS. 
 
 I HAVE heretofore designated the misuse of cer- 
 tain words as Briticisms. There is a British 
 affectation in the use of some other words which is 
 worthy of some attention. And in saying that a form 
 of English speech is of British origin, or is a Briti- 
 cism, I mean that it has arisen or come into vogue 
 in Great Britain since the beginning of the eighteenth 
 century, when, by the union of England and Scot- 
 land (A. D. 1706-7), the King of England and of 
 Scotland became King of the United Kingdom of 
 Great Britain and Ireland, a British took the place 
 of an English Parliament, and Englishmen became 
 politically Britons. This period is one of mark in 
 social and literary, as well as in political history. 
 To us it is one of interest, because, about that 
 time, although our political bonds were not severed 
 until three quarters of a century latter, our absolute 
 identity with the English of the mother country may 
 be regarded as having ceased. For, after a mod- 
 erate Jacobite exodus at the end of the seventeenth 
 century, there was comparatively little emigration 
 from the old England to the new. They change 
 their skies, but not their souls, who cross the sea ; 
 and whatever the population of this country may 
 
184 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 become hereafter, it had remained, till within twen- 
 ty-five years, as to race, an English people, just 
 as absolutely as if our fathers had not left the Old 
 Home. The history of England, of the old Eng- 
 land, pure and simple, is our history. In British 
 history we have only the interest of kinsmen ; but 
 the English language and English literature before 
 the modern British period belongs to both of us, in 
 the same completeness and by the same title — in- 
 heritance from our common fathers, who spoke it 
 and wrote it, quickened by the same blood, on the 
 same soil. And, in fact, the English of the period 
 when Shakespeare wrote and the Bible was trans- 
 lated has been kept in use among people of educa- 
 tion somewhat more in the new England than in 
 the old. All over the country there are some words 
 and phrases in common use, and in certain parts 
 of New England and Virginia there are many, 
 which have been dropped in British England, or 
 are to be found only among the squires and farmers 
 in the recesses of the rural counties. The forms 
 of speech which may be conveniently called Briti- 
 cisms, are, however, generally of later origin than 
 the beginning of the British empire. They have al- 
 most all of them sprung up since about A. D. 1775. 
 
 As well. — This phrase is improperly used by 
 some British writers in the sense of all the same. 
 For instance, " Her aged lover made her presents, 
 but just as well she hated the sight of him and the 
 sound of his voice;" t. e., she hated him all the 
 same. This misusage has yet no foothold here, 
 although, owing to the influence of second-rate 
 British novels, it begins to be heard. 
 
SOME BRITICISMS. 1 85 
 
 Awful. — It would seem superfluous to say that 
 azvful is not a synonyme of very, were it not that 
 the word is thus used by many people who should 
 know better than to do so. The misuse is a Briti- 
 cism ; but it has been spreading here within the last 
 few years. I have heard several educated English 
 gentlemen speak in sober, unconscious good faith 
 of " awfully nice girls," " awfully pretty women," 
 and K awfully jolly people." That is awful which 
 inspires or is inspired by awe ; and in the line in the 
 old metrical version of the Hundredth Psalm, 
 
 " Glad homage pay with awful mirth," 
 
 Tate and Brady did not mean that we were to be 
 awfully jolly, or very mirthful or gay, in our worship. 
 Observe here, again, how misuse debases a good 
 and much-needed word, and voids it of its meaning, 
 just by so much impoverishing the language. 
 
 Commence. — There is a British misuse of this 
 word which is remarkably coarse and careless. 
 British writers of all grades but the very highest will 
 say, for instance, that a man went to London and 
 commenced poet, or commenced politician. Mr. 
 Swinburne says that " Blake commenced pupil ; " 
 and Pope, quoted by Johnson, — 
 
 " If wit so much from ignorance undergo, 
 Ah, let not learning too commence its foe." 
 
 A man may commence life as an author, or a poli- 
 tician, or he may commence a book, or any other 
 task, although it is better to say he begins either. 
 But it is either a state or an action that he com- 
 mences. Commencement cannot be properly pred- 
 icated of a noun which does not express the idea 
 of continuance. It may be said that a woman 
 
1 86 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 commences married life, or that she commences 
 jilting, but not that she commences wife, or com- 
 mences jilt, any more than that she ends hussy. 
 
 Directly. — The radical meaning of this word 
 is, in a right line ; and hence, as a right line is the 
 shortest distance between two points, it means at 
 once, immediately. Its synonyme in both senses is 
 a good English word, now, unhappily, somewhat 
 obsolete — straightway. But John Bull uses directly 
 in a way that is quite indefensible — to wit, in the 
 sense of when, as soon as. This use of the word is 
 a wide-spread Briticism, and prevails even among 
 the most cultivated writers. For instance, in the 
 London "Spectator" of May 2, 1867, it is said that 
 " Directly Mr. Disraeli finished speaking, Mr. Lowe 
 rose to oppose," etc. Anglice, As soon as Mr. 
 Disraeli finished speaking, etc. It is difficult to 
 trace by continuous steps the course of this strange 
 perversion, for which there is neither justification 
 nor palliation. A fortnight ago I should have said 
 that it was unknown among speakers and writers 
 of American birth ; but since then I have read Mr. 
 Howells's charming book, "Italian Journeys," than 
 which I know no book of travel more richly fraught 
 with pleasure to a gentle reader. And by a gentle 
 reader I mean one who, like the author, can look 
 not only with delight upon all that is beautiful and 
 loveable, but with sympathy upon that which is 
 neither beautiful nor loveable in the customs and 
 characters of those who are strangers to him, whose 
 ways of wickedness are not his ways, and whose 
 follies are foreign to him, — one who can admire the 
 boldness of an impostor, and see the humorous side 
 
SOME BRITICISMS. 187 
 
 of rascality. When a traveller sees with Mr. How- 
 ells's very human eyes, and writes with his graphic 
 and humorous pen, — a pen that caricatures with a 
 keenness to which malice gives no edge, — travel- 
 ling with him on paper, which is generally either 
 the dullest or the most frivolous of employments, is 
 one of the most inspiriting, and not the least in- 
 structive. Mr. Howells's style, too, is so good, it 
 shows such unobtrusive and seemingly unconscious 
 mastery of idiomatic English, that I notice with the 
 more freedom two or three lapses, one of which, 
 at least, I attribute to the deleterious influences of 
 foreign travel. I am sure that it was not in New 
 England, and not until after he had been subjected 
 to daily intercourse w r ith British speakers and to the 
 influence of British journals, that he learned to write 
 such sentences as these : " Directly I found the house 
 inhabited by living people, I began to be sorry that 
 it was not as empty as the library and the street," 
 p. 30. " I was more interested in the disreputable 
 person who mounted the box beside our driver 
 directly we got out of our city gate," p. 218. Mr. 
 How els meant that when he found the house in- 
 habited he began to be sorry, and that the interest- 
 ing and disreputable person mounted his coach-box 
 as soon as they got out of the gate. Mr. Howells 
 is the first born and bred Yankee that I have know r n 
 to be guilty of this British offence against the Eng- 
 lish language ; and his example is likely to exert 
 so much more influence than my precept, that, unless 
 he repents, I am likely to be pilloried as his perse- 
 cutor by the multitude of his followers. But I am 
 sure that he will repent, and that, with the amiable 
 
1 88 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 leaning toward iniquity which enables him to throw 
 so fresh a charm over the well-trodden ways of 
 Italy, he will even think kindly of the critic who 
 has put him upon the barb as if he loved him. 
 
 So sure am I of this, that, wishing to use him 
 again as an eminent example of error, I shall bring 
 forward two other faults which I have noticed in his 
 book, and in which he is not singular among Yan- 
 kees. There is among some people a propensity, 
 which is of late growth, and is the fruit of presum- 
 ing half-knowledge, to give to adjectives formed 
 participially from nouns, and to nouns used as adjec- 
 tives, a plural form, the effect of which is laughably 
 pedantic, as all efforts to struggle away from simple 
 idiom to superfine correctness are apt to be. For 
 instance, the delicious confection, calf's-foot jelly, 
 is advertised in many confectionary windows as 
 calves'-feet jelly — the confectioners having been 
 troubled in their minds by the reflection that there 
 went more than one calf's foot to the making of 
 their jelly. So I once heard a richly-robed dame, 
 whose daughter, named after the goddess of wis- 
 dom, was suffering pangs that only steel forceps 
 could allay, say, with a little flourish of elegance, 
 that " M'nervy was a martyr to the teethache." And 
 could this gorgeous goddess-bearer doubt that she 
 was right, when she found Mr. Howells saying that 
 the peasants in Bassano return from their labor 
 "led in troops of eight or ten by stalwart, white- 
 ieethed, bare-legged maids !" She would probably 
 be shocked by the bareness of the maidens' legs, 
 but she would glory in the multitudinous dental 
 epithet which Mr. Howells applies to them. But 
 
SOME BRITICISMS. 1 89 
 
 because the most beautiful of the Nereides trips 
 through our memories as silver-footed Thetis, do 
 we, therefore, think of her as a unipede, a one- 
 legged goddess? How would it do for the Cam- 
 bridge lads to translate, silver-feeted Thetis? And 
 if we have calved -feet jelly, why must not we, a 
 fortiori, have oysters-pie and^/z^zs-pudding? and 
 if white-teet/zed maids, why not tect /i-brushes? and, 
 above all, why do we commit the monstrous ab- 
 surdity of speaking of the numberless human race 
 as mankind instead of men-WvA"? A noun used as 
 an adjective expresses an abstract idea ; and when 
 by the introduction of the plural form this idea is 
 broken up into a collective multitude of individuals, 
 it falls ludicrously into concrete ruin. 
 
 A like endeavor toward precision has led some 
 folk to say, for instance, that a man w r as on Broad- 
 way, or that such and such an event took place on 
 Tremont Street ; and Mr. Howells countenances 
 this folly by writing, "There were a few people to 
 be seen on the street." Let him, and all others who 
 would not be at once childish and pedantic, say, 
 in the street, in Broadway, and not be led into the 
 folly of endeavoring to convey the notion that a man 
 was resting upon or moving over an extended sur- 
 face between two lines of houses. v A house itself is 
 in Broadway, not on it ; but it may stand on the line 
 of the street ; and an event takes place in a certain 
 street, whether the actors are on the pavement or on 
 the steps, or in the balcony of a house in that street, 
 or in the house itself. We are in or within a limited 
 surface, but on or upon one that is without visible 
 boundaries. Thus, a man is in a field, but on a 
 
I9O WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 plain. Some generations, at least, will pass away 
 before a man shall appear who will write plainer, 
 simpler, or better English than John Bunyan wrote ; 
 and he makes Christian say, "Apollyon, beware 
 what you do, for I am in the king's highway," 
 
 There is no telling into what absurdity these blind 
 gropers after precision will stumble when we find 
 them deep in such a slough as written over the sig- 
 nature, fancying the while that they stand on solid 
 ground. A man's signature, we are told, is at the 
 bottom of his letter, and therefore he writes over 
 the signature! But — answering a precisian ac- 
 cording to his preciseness — the signature was not 
 there while the man wrote the letter ; it was added 
 afterward. How, then, was the letter written over 
 the signature ? This is the very lunacy of literalism. 
 A man w r rites under a signature whether the signa- 
 ture is at the top, or the bottom, or in the middle of 
 his letter. For instance, an old correspondent of 
 the New York " Times " writes under the signature 
 of " A Veteran Observer," and his letters, written sub 
 tcgmincfagi, are under the date of "The Beeches." 
 And as they would be under that date whether it 
 were written at the top, or, as dates often are, at the 
 bottom of the letter, so they are under that signature, 
 wherever on the sheet it may be signed. A soldier 
 or a sailor fights under a flag, not, as Mr. Precisian 
 would have it, because the flag is flying over his 
 head, but because he is under the authority which 
 that flag represents. Sometimes he does his fight- 
 ing above the flag, as is often the case with sharp- 
 shooters in both army and navy ; and Farragut, in 
 the futtock shrouds of the " Hartford," fought the 
 
SOME BRITICISMS. I9I 
 
 battle of Mobile Bay as much under the United 
 States flag that floated ten or fifteen feet below him, 
 as if he had issued his orders from the bottom of the 
 hold. So writs are issued under the authority of a 
 court, although the seal and the signature which 
 represent that authority are at the bottom of the 
 writ ; and a man issues a letter under his signature, 
 i. e., with the authority or attestation given by his 
 signature, whether the signature is at top or bottom. 
 The use of such a phrase as over the signature is 
 the sign of a tendency which, if unchecked, will 
 place our language under the formative influence, 
 not of those who act instinctively under guidance of 
 what we call its genius, or of scholars and men of 
 general culture, but of those who have least ability 
 to fashion it to honor — the literate folk who know 
 too much to submit to usage or authorhy, and too 
 little rightfully to frame usage or to have authority 
 themselves. 
 
 I shall notice only one other bad example set by 
 Mr. Howells, that in the phrase "when we came to 
 settle for the wine." He meant, to pay for the wine, 
 that and nothing more. To settle is to fix firmly, 
 and so, to adjust; and therefore the adjusting of 
 accounts is well called, by figure, their settlement. 
 But the phrase to settle, meaning to pay, had better 
 be left entirely to the use of those sable messengers, 
 rapidly passing away, who summon passengers on 
 steamboats to "step up to the cap'n's office and settle." 
 For accounts may be settled, that is, they may be 
 made clear and satisfactory, — as the passenger 
 wished his cup of coffee to be made when he called 
 upon the negro to take it to the captain's office and 
 have it settled, — and yet they may not be paid. 
 
I92 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 To settle your passage means, if it means any- 
 thing, nothing more or less than to pay your fare ; 
 and there is no reason whatever for the use of the 
 former phrase instead of the latter. It displaces 
 one good word, and perverts another ; while the 
 use of settle without any object, which is sometimes 
 heard, as, Hadn't you better settle with me? is 
 hideous. 
 
 These four slips are notable as being all that I 
 remarked in reading " Italian Journeys " thoroughly 
 and carefully. There have been very few books, 
 if any, published on either side of the water, that 
 would not furnish more as well as greater oppor- 
 tunities to a carping critic. 
 
 Drive and Ride are among the words as to which 
 there is a notable British affectation. According to 
 the present usage of cultivated society in England, 
 ride means only to go on horseback, or on the back 
 of some beast less dignified and comfortable, and 
 drive, only to go in a vehicle which is drawn by 
 any creature that is driven. This distinction, the 
 non-recognition of which is marked by cousin Bull 
 as an Americanism, is quite inconsistent with com- 
 mon sense and good English, and involves absurd 
 contradictions. Drive comes to us straight from 
 the Anglo-Saxon: it means to urge forward, to 
 expel, to eject, and Drift is simply that which is 
 driven. There is no example of any authority 
 earlier than this century known to me, or quoted 
 by any lexicographer, of the use of drive with the 
 meaning, to pass in a carriage. Dr. Johnson gives 
 that definition of the word, but he is able to support 
 it only by the following passages from Shakespeare 
 and Milton, which are quite from the purpose : — 
 
SOME BRITICISMS. IQ/J 
 
 " There is a litter ready : lay him out, 
 And drive toward Dover." — King Lear. 
 
 " Thy foaming chariot wheels, that shook 
 Heaven's everlasting frame, while o'er the neck 
 Thou drov'st of warring angels disarrayed." 
 
 Paradise Lost. 
 
 In the first of these the person addressed is 
 merely ordered to drive or urge forward his car- 
 riage to Dover ; in the second, Jehovah is represented 
 as urging the wheels of his war chariot over his 
 fallen enemies. There is not a suggestion or im- 
 plication of the thought that drive in either case 
 means to pass in any way, or means anything else 
 than to urge onward. Dr. Johnson might as well 
 have quoted from the account in Exodus of the pas- 
 sage of. the Red Sea, that the Lord took off the char- 
 iot wheels of the Egyptians, that "they drave them 
 heavily." Drive means only to force on ; but ride 
 means, and always has meant, to be borne up and 
 along, as on a beast, a bird, a chariot, a wagon, or 
 a rail. We have seen that Shakespeare, and Milr 
 ton, and the translators of the Bible use drive in 
 connection with chariot when they wish to express 
 the urging it along ; but when they wish to say that 
 a man is borne up and onward in a chariot, they 
 use ride. 
 
 "And Pharaoh made him [Joseph] to ride in the second 
 chariot which he had." — Genesis xli. 43. 
 
 "And I will overthrow the chariots and those that ride in 
 them ; and the horses and their riders shall come down, every 
 one by the sword of his brother." — Haggai ii. 22. 
 
 " So Jehu rode in a chariot, and went to Jezreel. . . . And 
 the watchman told, saying, He came even unto them, and cometh 
 not again ; and the driving is like the driving of Jehu the son 
 of Nimshi; for he driveth furiously." — 2 Kings ix. 16, 20. 
 
 13 
 
194 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 In these passages drive and ride are used in 
 what is their proper sense, and has been since long 
 before the days of the Heptarchy, and as they are 
 used now in New England. And yet only a few 
 days since, as I spoke of riding to a British friend, 
 he said to me, pleasantly, but with the air of a polite 
 teacher, "You use that word differently to what 
 we do. We ride on horseback, but we drive in a 
 carriage ; now, I have noticed that you ride in a 
 carriage." "The distinction seems to be, then," I 
 replied, "that when you are on an animal, you 
 ride, and when you are in a vehicle, you drive." 
 "Exactly; don't you see? quite so." "Well, then" 
 (we were in Broadway), "if you had come down 
 from the Clarendon in that omnibus, you would say 
 that you drove down, or, if you went from one place 
 to another in a stage coach, that you drove there." 
 "'M ! ah ! no, not exactly. You know one rides in 
 a 'bus or a stage coach, but one drives in one's own 
 Carriage or in a private vehicle." I did not answer 
 him. Our British cousins will ere long see the in- 
 correctness of this usage and its absurd incongruity, 
 and will be able to say, for instance, — for are they 
 not of English blood and speech as well as we? — 
 We all rode down from home in the old carryall 
 to meet you, and John drove. But if they insist, in 
 such a case, upon saying that they all drove, we 
 shall have reason to suspect that there is at least the 
 beginning of a new language, — the British, — and 
 that the English tongue and English sense has fled 
 to the Yankees across the sea. 
 
 Right. — A Briticism in the use of this word is 
 creeping in among us. It is used to mean obliga- 
 
SOME BRITICISMS. I£5 
 
 tion, duty. On one of those celebrations of St. 
 Patrick's day in the city of New York, when, in 
 token of the double nationality of its governing 
 classes, the City Hall is decorated with the Irish 
 and the United States flag, and miles of men, each 
 one like the other, and all wearing stove-pipe hats 
 and green scarfs, are allowed to take possession of 
 its great thoroughfares, in acknowledgement of the 
 large share which their forefathers took for two 
 hundred and fifty years in framing our government 
 and establishing our society upon those truly Irish 
 principles of constitutional liberty and law which 
 are the glory and the safeguard of our country, and 
 in acknowledgement, also, of that devotion to the 
 great cause of religious freedom which brought 
 those Celtic pilgrims to our shores — on one of those 
 occasions I heard an alien creature, a Yankee, who 
 had presumed to drive out jauntily in a wagon on 
 that sacred and solemn day, and who ventured to be 
 somewhat displeased because he had been detained 
 three quarters of an hour lest he should break the 
 irregularity of that line, and interrupt his masters' 
 pleasure — I heard this Yankee say to the police- 
 men, as he saw the Fourth Avenue cars allowed to 
 pursue their course (probably because it was thought 
 they might contain some of the females of the dom- 
 inant race), "What do you stop me for? The cars 
 have as good a right to be stopped as the carriages." 
 This was unpleasant. That he should have stood 
 humbly before his masters, having put a ballot into 
 their hands with which to break his back, was a 
 small matter ; but of his language he should have 
 been ashamed. He could not have spoken worse 
 
I96 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 English if he were a Cockney ; and from some 
 Cockney he must have caught this trick, which, 
 common enough for a long while among British 
 speakers, and even writers of a low order, has been 
 heard here only within a few years. He meant that 
 carriages had as good a right as cars to go on with- 
 out interruption, and that the cars had as much 
 obligation to stop as the carriages. A right is an 
 incorporeal, rightful possession, and, consequently, 
 something of value, which we strive to get and to 
 keep, except always when it is claimed from us in 
 the name of the patron saint Patrick, of the great 
 State and the great city of our country. Death is 
 the legal punishment of certain felonies. But we 
 do not speak of the murderer's right of being 
 hanged.. Yet in case of a choice of two modes of 
 death, we should use the word, and speak, for in- 
 stance, of the soldier's right to be shot rather than 
 hanged. 
 
 Sick and III are two other words that have been 
 perverted in general British usage. Almost all 
 British speakers and writers limit the meaning of 
 sick to the expression of qualmishness, sickness at 
 the stomach, nausea, and lay the proper burden of 
 the adjective sick upon the adverb ill. They sneer 
 at us for not joining in the robbery and the impo- 
 sition. I was present once when a British merchant, 
 receiving in his own house a Yankee youth at a 
 little party, said, in a tone that attracted the atten- 
 tion of the whole room, "Good evening! We 
 haven't seen you for a long while. Have you been 
 seeck" (the sneer prolonged the word), "as you 
 say in your country?" "No, thank you," said the 
 
SOME BRITICISMS, 
 
 I 9 7 
 
 other, frankly and promptly, " I've been hill, as they 
 say in yours." John Bull, although he blushed to 
 the forehead, had the good sense, if not the good 
 nature, to join in the laugh that followed ; but I am 
 inclined to think that he never ran another tilt in 
 that quarter. As to the sense in which sick is used 
 by the best English writers, there can be, of course, 
 no dispute ; but I have seen this set down in a British 
 critical journal of high class as an "obsolete sense." 
 It is not obsolete even in modern British usage. 
 The Birmingham "Journal" of August 29, 1869, 
 informs its readers that, "The Sick Club question 
 has given rise to another batch of letters from local 
 practitioners of medicine ; " Mrs. Massingberd pub- 
 lishes "Sickness, its Trials and Blessings" (Lon- 
 don, 1868) ; and a letter before me, from a London 
 woman to a friend, says, "I am truly sorry to hear 
 you are so very sick. Do make haste and get well." 
 One of Matthew Arnold's poems is "The Sick 
 King in Bokara," in which are these lines: — 
 
 " O, King thou know'st I have been sick 
 These many days, and heard no thing." 
 
 British officers have sick leave; British invalids 
 keep a sick bed, or a sick room, and so forth, no 
 matter what their ailment. . No one of them ever 
 speaks of ill leave, an ill room, or an ill bed. Was 
 an 111 Club ever heard of in England? The incon- 
 gruity is apparent, and it is new-born and needless. 
 For the use of ill — an adverb — as an adjective, 
 thus, an ill man, there is no defence and no ex- 
 cuse, except the contamination of bad example. 
 
 Stop for stay is a Briticism; e. g., "stop at 
 'ome." To stop is to arrest motion ; to stay is to 
 
I98 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 remain where motion is arrested. " I shall stop at 
 the Clarendon," says our British friend — one of the 
 sort that does not " stop at 'ome." And he will quite 
 surely stop there ; but after he has stopped, whether 
 he stays there, and how long, depend upon cir- 
 cumstances. A railway train stops at many stations, 
 but it stays only at one. 
 
WORDS THAT ARE NOT WORDS. I99 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 WORDS THAT ARE NOT WORDS. 
 
 WHAT is a word? Every one knows. The 
 most ignorant child, if it can speak, needs no 
 definition of word. Probably no other word in the 
 language is so rarely referred to in dictionaries. 
 Until I began to write this chapter, and had framed 
 a definition of word for myself, I had never seen or 
 heard one, that I remember. Yet, if any reader will 
 shut this book here, and try to tell exactly what a 
 word is, and write down his definition before he 
 opens the book again, he may find that the task is 
 not so easy as he may have supposed it to be. Dr. 
 Johnson's definition is, "a single part of speech," at 
 the limited view and schoolmasterish style of which 
 we may be inclined at first to smile. Richardson's 
 first definition is, " anything spoken or told." But 
 this applies equally to a speech or a story. His 
 second is, " an articulate utterance of the voice," 
 which is really the same as Worcester's, " an artic- 
 ulate sound." But this will not do ; for baclomijpivit 
 is an articulate sound, but it is not a word, and I 
 hope never will be one in my language ; and / and 
 you are not articulate sounds, and yet they are 
 words. Webster's definition is, — 
 
 "An articulate or vocal sound, or a combination 
 
200 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 of articulate ^and vocal sounds, uttered by the human 
 voice, and by custom expressing an idea or ideas." 
 
 Here plainly, fulness and accuracy of definition 
 have been sought, but they have not been attained. 
 The definition, considering its design, is superflu- 
 ous, inexact, and incomplete. The whole of the 
 first part of it, making a distinction between articu- 
 late and vocal sounds, and between such sounds 
 and a combination of them, is needless and from 
 the purpose. The latter part of the definition uses 
 custom vaguely, and in the word idea fails to in- 
 clude all that is required. 
 
 A word is, an utterance of the human voice 
 which in any community expresses a thought or a 
 thing. If there is a village or a hamlet where ao 
 expresses I love, or any other thought, and babo 
 means bread, or anything else, then for that com- 
 munity ao and babo are words. But words, gen- 
 erally, are utterances which express thoughts or 
 things to a race, a people. Custom is not an es- 
 sential condition of wordship. Howells, in one of 
 his letters (Book I. Letter 12), says of an Italian 
 town, "There are few places this side the Alps 
 better built and so well streeted as this." Streeted 
 was probably never used before, and has probably 
 never been used since Howells used it, two hundred 
 and forty years ago. But it expressed his thought 
 perfectfv then to all English-speaking people, and 
 does so now, and is a participial adjective correctly 
 formed. It is unknown to custom, but it has all 
 the conditions of wordship, and is a much better 
 English word than very many in "Webster's Dic- 
 tionary." And, after all, Johnson's definition cov- 
 
WORDS THAT ARE NOT WORDS. 201 
 
 ers the ground. We must dismiss from our minds 
 our grammar-class notion of a sort of things, prep- 
 ositions, nouns, adverbs, and articles, the name 
 of which is part-of-speech, and think of a single 
 part of speech. Whatever is a single part of any 
 speech is a word. 
 
 But as there are books that are not books, so 
 there are words that are not words. Most of them 
 are usurpers, interlopers, or vulgar pretenders ; 
 some are deformed creatures, with only half a life in 
 them ; but some of them are legitimate enough in 
 their pretensions, although oppressive, intolerable, 
 useless. Words that are not words sometimes die 
 spontaneously ; but many linger, living a precarious 
 life on the outskirts of society, uncertain of their 
 position, and a cause of great discomfort to all right 
 thinking, straightforward people. 
 
 These words-no-words are in many cases the 
 consequence of a misapprehension or whimsical 
 perversion of some real word. Sitting at dinner 
 beside a. lady whom it was always a pleasure to 
 look upon, I offered her a croquet, which she de- 
 clined, adding, in a confidential whisper, " I am 
 Banting." I turned with surprise in my face ; for 
 she had no likeness to the obese London upholsterer, 
 and heard the naif confession that she lived in daily 
 fear lest the polished plumpness which so delighted 
 my eye should develop into corpulence, and that 
 therefore she had adopted Banting's system of diet, 
 the doing of which she expressed by the grotesque 
 participle banting. She was not alone in its use, I 
 soon learned. And thus, because a proper name 
 happened to end in ing, it was used as a participle 
 
202 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 formed upon the assumed verb bant. In fact, I have 
 since that time often heard intelligent women, 
 speaking without the slightest intention of pleas- 
 antry, and in entire simplicity and unconsciousness, 
 say of one or another of their friends, "O, she 
 bants" or "She has banted these two years to keep 
 herself down." The next edition of " Webster's 
 Dictionary" will probably contain a new verb — 
 Bant, to eschew fat-producing food. 
 
 Another example of this mode of forming words 
 is afforded by the following political advertisement, 
 which I found in a Brooklyn paper : — 
 
 "Notice. — I am intercessed by Mr. and certain of his 
 
 friends to withdraw my claims for the supervisorship of this Ward. 
 I have only to say to the citizens of the 13th that I run for the 
 office upon the recommendation and support of many influential 
 citizens, amounting to me as much as is claimed by the so-called 
 regularly nominated candidate. I shall run for the office as 
 Democratic Supervisor, despite intercessions or browbeating, 
 and if elected shall make it my sole duty to attend to the inter- 
 ests of property-holders and rights of the country. 
 
 J S K G." 
 
 I have given the advertisement entire, that it may 
 be seen that the writer is a man of intelligence and 
 some education ; and yet such a man not only sup- 
 poses that hit er cession means simply entreaty, — 
 losing sight entirely of the vicarious signification 
 which is its essential significance (its primitive 
 meaning being, going between), — but that it is 
 from a verb inter cess ; or else he boldly forms in- 
 tercess from intercession, and uses it apparently 
 without the least hesitation or compunction. His 
 honesty of purpose should win him forgiveness for 
 less venial errors; but at this rate, and with this 
 style of word-formation, where shall we stop? For 
 
WORDS THAT ARE NOT WORDS. 203 
 
 inter cess ) although it is yet rather raw and new, is 
 as good a word as others which are in not infre- 
 quent use among people of no less intelligence and 
 general information than his. In this chapter some 
 of these words will be examined, and also some 
 others against which purism has raised objections 
 which do not seem to be well taken. 
 
 Adjectives are used as substantives with clear- 
 ness and force when they thus give substantive 
 form to an abstract quality, as, Seek the good, 
 eschew the evil ; the excellent of the earth ; speak 
 well of the dead. But the use of the adjective part 
 of a compound-designating phrase as a noun is to 
 be avoided upon peril of vulgarity and absurdity, 
 and generally produces a word-no-word of the most 
 monstrous and ridiculous sort. For example, a 
 large gilded sign in Wall Street announces that 
 Messrs. A & B are " Dealers in Governments ; " 
 but if any gentleman in want of the articles should 
 step in and ask to be supplied with a republic and 
 two monarchies, he w r ould then probably learn that 
 Messrs. A & B dealt not in governments, but in 
 government securities. In like manner the editor 
 of a Southern paper, carried out of the orbit of high 
 journalistic reserve by the attractions of two ladies 
 unknown to fame, begins thus an article in their 
 glory : — 
 
 " For the first time during the existence of this paper we 
 notice a theatrical representation editorially. We generally 
 leave that matter to our locals; but really the Worral sis- 
 ters ! " 
 
 What " a local " is might well puzzle an}^ reader 
 who had not the technical knowledge that would 
 
204 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 enable him to see that it is " short " for local re- 
 porter ; itself an incorrect name for a reporter of 
 local news. Beguiling the time by reading the ad- 
 vertising cards in a railway station where I awaited 
 a belated train, my eye was caught by the following 
 sentence in one of them : — 
 
 " The Southern States is without exception the most com- 
 plete six-hole premium ever made." 
 
 What a premium was I knew, but a six-hole pre- 
 mium, and still more a complete six-hole premium, 
 was beyond the range even of my conjecture, un- 
 less, perhaps, it might be a flute given as a reward 
 of merit. But, reading farther, I found that the 
 advertisers called public attention not only to their 
 Southern States, but to their "Dixie for wood, with 
 extended fire-box. A perfect premium I " This, 
 and the wood-cut of a cooking stove, led me step 
 by step to the apprehension of the fact that these in- 
 ventors in language, as well as in household articles, 
 had produced a utensil for the kitchen, which, hav- 
 ing received a premium for it, they called, rightly 
 enough, their premium stove ; and that thereafter 
 they called their stoves, and perhaps all other good 
 stoves, if any others than theirs could be good, -pre- 
 miums, and consequently the best and largest of 
 them all a complete six-hole premium. The height' 
 of absurdity which they thus reached is a sufficient 
 warning, without further remark, against the sub- 
 stantive use of adjectives of which they furnished 
 so bewildering an example. 
 
 Authoress, Poetess. — These words and oth- 
 ers of their sort have been condemned by writers 
 
WORDS THAT ARE NOT WORDS. 205 
 
 for whose taste and judgement I have great respect ; 
 but although the words are not very lovel}< , it would 
 seem that their right to a place in the language 
 cannot be denied. The distinction of the female 
 from the male by the termination ess is one of the 
 oldest and best-established usages of English speech. 
 Mistress, goddess, -prioress, deaconess, shepherd- 
 ess, heiress, sempstress, traitress are examples that 
 will occur to every reader. Sir Thomas Chaloner, 
 in his translation of Erasmus's " Praise of Folly " 
 (an excellent piece of English) makes a feminine 
 noun, and a good one, by adding ess to a verb — 
 foster. 
 
 " Further, as concern yng my bringynge up, I am not envious 
 that Jupiter, the great god, had a goat to his fostress" 
 
 Gower says that Clytemnestra was "of her own 
 lord mordrice" Fuller uses baildress and intrn- 
 dress, Sir Philip Sidney captainess, Holland (Plu- 
 tarch) Jlattress, Sylvester soveraintess, and Ben 
 Jonson victress. And could w T 'e afford to lose 
 Milton's 
 
 " Thee, ckauntress, oft the woods among 
 I woo, to hear thy even song " ? 
 
 Indeed, these examples and this defence seem 
 quite superfluous. There can be no reasonable 
 objection made, only one of individual taste, to 
 actress, authoress, poetess, and even to sculptress 
 and paintress. 
 
 Donate. — I need hardly say, that this word is 
 utterly abominable — one that any lover of simple 
 honest English cannot hear with patience and with- 
 out offence. It has been formed by some presum- 
 ing and ignorant person from donation, and is 
 
206 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 much such a word as vocate would be from voca- 
 tion, orate from oration, or gradate from grada- 
 tion : and this when we have give, -present, grant, 
 confer, endow, bequeath, devise, with which to 
 express the act of transferring possession in all its 
 possible varieties. The first of these will answer 
 the purpose, in most cases, better than any one of 
 the others, and donation itself is not among our 
 best words. If any man thinks that he and his gift 
 are made to seem more imposing because the latter 
 is called a donation, which he donates, let him 
 remember that when Antonio requires that the 
 wealthy Shylock shall leave all he dies possessed 
 of to Lorenzo and Jessica, he stipulates that "he 
 do record a gift" of it, and that Portia, in conse- 
 quence, says, "Clerk, draw a deed of gift;" and 
 more, that the writers of the simplest and noblest 
 English that has been written called the Omnipo- 
 tent "the Giver of every good and perfect gift." 
 But there are some folk who would like to call 
 him the Great Donater because he donates every 
 good and perfect donation. If they must express 
 giving by an Anglicized form of the Latin dono, it 
 were better that they used donation as a verb. So 
 Cotton writes (Montaigne's Essays, I. 359), "They 
 used to collation between meals." This is better 
 than "They used to collate between meals." 
 
 Enquire, Enclose, Endorse. — These words 
 have been condemned by some writers on the 
 ground that they are respectively from the Latin 
 inquiro, includo, and in dorsum, and should, there- 
 fore, be written inquire, inclose, and indorse. This 
 is an error. They are, to be sure, of Latin origin, 
 
WORDS THAT ARE NOT WORDS. 207 
 
 but remotely ; they come to us directly from the old 
 French cnquerre, enclos, and endorser. For cen- 
 turies they appear in our literature with the prefix 
 en. That Johnson gives this class of words with 
 the prefix in must be attributed to a tendency, 
 not uncommon, but not healthy, to follow words 
 of Norman or French origin back to their Latin 
 roots, and to adopt a spelling in conformity to these, 
 in preference to that which pertains to them as rep- 
 resentatives of an important and inherent element 
 in the formation of the English language. The 
 best lexicographers and philologists now discour- 
 age this tendency, and adhere to the forms which 
 pertain to the immediate origin of derived words. 
 But it must be confessed that the class of words in 
 question is notably defiant of analogy, and ver}^ 
 much in need of regulation. For instance, enquire, 
 enquiry, inquest, inquisition. No one would think 
 of writing enquest and enquisition. The discre- 
 pancy is of long standing, and must be borne, except 
 by those who choose to avoid it by writing inquire 
 for the sake of uniformity ; condemnation of which 
 may be left to purists. 
 
 Enthused. — This ridiculous word is an Ameri- 
 canism in vogue in the southern part of the United 
 States. I never heard or saw it used, or heard of 
 its use, by any person born and bred north of the 
 Potomac. The Baltimore "American" furnishes 
 the following example of its use : — 
 
 " It seems that this State, so quickly entJiu&ed by the generous 
 and loyal cause of emancipation, has grown weary of virtuous 
 effort, and again stands still." 
 
 I shall not conceal the fact that the following 
 
208 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 defence might be set up, but not fairly, for en- 
 thuse. Evdovaiaapog (JEnthousiasmos) was formed 
 by the Greeks from evQovg (enthous), a contracted 
 form of evdeog (entheos) , meaning in or with God, 
 i. e., divinely inspired. From the Greek adjective 
 enthous, an English verb, enthuse might be properly 
 formed. But, with no disrespect to Southern schol- 
 arship, we may safely say that enthuse was not made 
 by the illogical process of going to the Greek root 
 of a Greek word from which an English noun had 
 already been formed. It was plainly reached by 
 the backward process of making some kind of verb 
 from the noun enthusiasm, as donate was formed 
 from donation. If our Southern friends must have 
 a new word to express the agitation of soul to which 
 this one would seem to indicate that they are 
 peculiarly subject, let them say that they are en- 
 thusiasmed. The French, who have the word en- 
 thousiasme, have also the verb enihousiasmer , and, 
 of course, the perfect participle enthousiasme , en- 
 thusiasmed, which are correctly formed. But while 
 we have such words as stirred, aroused, inspired, 
 excited, transported, ravished, intoxicated, is it 
 worth while to go farther and fare worse for such a 
 word as enthused, or even enthusiasmed? 
 
 &c. &c. — This convenient sign is very frequently 
 read "and so forth, and so forth ;" and what is worse, 
 many persons who read it properly, et cetera, regard 
 it and use it as a more elegant equivalent of " and 
 so forth ; " but it is no such thing. Et cetera is 
 merely Latin for and other things, and is properly 
 used in schedules or statements after an account 
 given of particular things, to include other things 
 
WORDS THAT ARE NOT WORDS. 209 
 
 too unimportant and numerous for particular men- 
 tion. But the phrase and so forth has quite an- 
 other meaning, u e., and as before so after, in the 
 same strain. It implies the continuation of a story 
 in accordance with the beginning. Sometimes the 
 story is actually continued in the relation, at other 
 times it is not. Thus we may say, And so forth he 
 told him — thus and so; or, after the relation of the 
 main part of a story we may add, And so forth ; 
 meaning that matters went on thereafter as before. 
 This phrase is one of the oldest and most useful in 
 the language. Gower thus used it in his "Confessio 
 Amantis," written nearly six hundred years ago : — 
 
 "So as he mighte [he] tolde tho [then] 
 Unto Ulixes all the cas, 
 How that Circes his moder was, 
 And so forth said him every dele 
 How that his moder grete him wele." 
 
 Fellowship used as a verb (for example, "An 
 attempt to disfellowshift an evil, but to fellowship 
 the evil-doer") is an abomination which has been 
 hitherto regarded as' of American origin. It is 
 not often heard or written among people whose 
 language is in other respects a fair example of 
 the English spoken in "America;" but Mr. Bart- 
 lett justly says in his " Dictionar}^ of American- 
 isms" (a useful and interesting, although a very 
 misleading book), that it "appears with disgusting 
 frequency in the reports of ecclesiastical conven- 
 tions, and in the religious newspapers generally." 
 The conventions, however, and the newspapers are 
 those of the least educated sects. To this use of 
 fellowship it would be a perfect parallel to say that, 
 
 14 
 
2IO WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 fifteen years ago, the monarchs of Europe would not 
 kingship with Louis Napoleon. There is no excuse 
 of need for the bringing in of this barbarism. Fel- 
 low > like incite^ may be used as a verb as well as a 
 noun ; and it is as well to say, I will not fellow with 
 him as I will not mate with him. The authority of 
 eminent example is not needed for such a use of fel- 
 low ; but those who feel the want of it may find it 
 in Shakespeare's plays and in " Piers Ploughman's 
 Vision " by referring to Johnson's and Richardson's 
 dictionaries, in both of which fellow is given as a 
 verb. Words ending in ship express a condition 
 or state, and fellowship means the condition or state 
 of those who are fellows, or who fellow with each 
 other. But the use of this word as a verb did not 
 begin in " America ; " witness the following pas- 
 sages from the " Morte d' Arthur : — 
 
 " How Syr Galahad faugh t wyth Syr Tristram, and how 
 Syr tristram yelded hym and promysed to felaushyp with lance- 
 lot." 
 
 "And, sire, I promyse you, said Sir Tristram, as soone as I 
 may I will see Sir launcelot, and enfelaushifi me with hym, for 
 of alle the knyghtes of the world I moost desyre his felauship." 
 " Morte d' Arthur" Ed. Southey, Vol. I. pp. xix. 287. 
 
 This was written A. D. 1469, and the verbs fel- 
 lowship and enfellowship were reprinted in all 
 editions, notwithstanding numerous and important 
 modernizations and corrections of the text, down to 
 that of 1634, which Mr. Wright has made the 
 authority for his excellent edition of 1858. If the 
 word could be justified by origin and use, it has 
 them, of sufficient antiquity and high authority. 
 And as to its being an Americanism, it was in use, 
 like many other words, so-called, before Columbus 
 
WORDS THAT ARE NOT WORDS. 211 
 
 set sail on the voyage that ended in the unexpected 
 discovery of the new continent. 
 
 Forward, Upward, Downward, Toward, and 
 other compounds of ward (which is the Anglo- 
 Saxon suffix weard, meaning in the direction of, 
 over against), have been written also forwards, 
 upwards, and so forth, from a period of remote 
 antiquity, extending even to the Anglo-Saxon form 
 of the language. But there seems hardly a doubt 
 that the 5 is a corruption as well as a superfluity. 
 The weight of the best usage is on the side of the 
 form without the s. " Speak to Israel that they go 
 forward." (Exodus xiv. 15.) "For we will not 
 inherit with them on yonder side Jordan, or for- 
 ward : because our inheritance is fallen to us on 
 this side Jordan eastward." (Numbers xxxii. 19.) 
 There is no reason for forwards and backwards 
 which would not justify eastwards and westwards, 
 which no one thinks of using. Granting that both 
 forms are correct, the avoiding of the hissing termi- 
 nation, which is one of the few reproaches of our 
 language, is a good reason for adhering to the 
 simple, unmodified compound in ward. 
 
 Gent and Pants. — Let these words go together, 
 like the things they signify. The one always wears 
 the other. 
 
 Gubernatorial. — This clumsy piece of verbal 
 pomposity should be thrust out of use, and that 
 speedily. While the chief officers of States are 
 called governors, and not gubernators, we may 
 better speak of the governor's house and of the gov- 
 ernor's room, than of the gubernatorial mansion and 
 the gubernatorial chamber ; and why that which 
 
212 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 relates to government should be called guberna- 
 torial rather than governmental, except for the sake 
 of being at once pedantic, uncouth, and outlandish, 
 it would be hard to tell. 
 
 Hydropathy. — This word, and electropathy, 
 and all of the same sort, should also be scouted out 
 of sight and hearing. They are absolutely with- 
 out meaning, and, in their composition, are fine 
 examples of pretentious ignorance. Hahnemann 
 called the system of medicine which he advocated, 
 homoeopathy, because its method was to cure by the 
 use of medicines which would give a like (omoios) 
 disease or suffering (-pathos). The older system 
 was naturally called by him (it was never before 
 so called by its practisers) allopathy, because it 
 worked by medicines which set up an action counter 
 to, different from (alios), the disease. These are 
 good technical Greek derivatives. And by just as 
 much as they are good and reasonable, are hy- 
 dropathy and electropathy bad and foolish. Why 
 should water-cure be called water-disease? why 
 electric-cure, electric-disease? The absurdity of 
 these words is shown by translating them. They 
 are plainly sprung from the desire of those who 
 practise the water-cure and the electric-cure to be 
 reckoned with the legitimate pathies. And the 
 " hydropathists " and "electropathists" are not alone. 
 I saw once, before a little shop with some herbs in 
 the window, a sign which ran thus : — 
 
 INDIAN 
 OPATHIST. 
 
 I was puzzled for a moment to divine what an 
 opathist might be. But, of course, I saw in the 
 
WORDS THAT ARE NOT WORDS. 213 
 
 next moment that the vender of the herbs in the 
 little shop, thinking that his practice had as good a 
 right as any other to a big name, and deceived by 
 the accent which some persons give to homoeop- 
 athy and allopathy, had called his practice Indian- 
 Opathy, and himself an Indian-Opathist. He was 
 not one whit more absurd than the self-styled " hy- 
 dropathist " and " electropathist." As great a blun- 
 der was made by an apothecary, who, wishing to 
 give a name to a new remedy for cold and cough, 
 advertised it widely as coldine. Now, the termi- 
 nation ine is of Latin origin, and means having the 
 quality of; as metalline, having the quality of m.etal ; 
 alkaline, having the quality of alkali ; canine hav- 
 ing the qualities of a dog ; asinine, those of an ass. 
 And so this apothecary, wishing to make a name 
 that would sound as fine as glycerine, and stearine, 
 and the like, actually advertised his remedy for a 
 cold as something that had the quality of a cold. 
 The rudest peasants do better than that by lan- 
 guage for they are content with their mother 
 tongue. A gentleman w r ho was visiting one of the 
 remotest rural districts of England, met a bare-footed 
 girl carrying a pail of water. Floating on the top 
 of the water was a disc of wood a little less in diam- 
 eter than the rim of the pail. "What's that, my 
 lass?" he asked. "Thot?" (with surprise) ; "why, 
 thot's a stiller," It was a simple but effective con- 
 trivance for stilling the water as it was carried. 
 The word is not in the dictionaries, but they con- 
 tain no better English. It is only when men wish 
 to be big and fine, to seem to know more than they 
 do know, and to be something that they are not, that 
 
214 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 they make such absurd words as hydropathy, elec- 
 tropathy, indianopathy , and coldine. 
 
 Ize and 1st, two useful affixes for the expression 
 of action and agency, are often ignorantly added 
 when they are entirely superfluous, and when they 
 are incongruous with the stem. They are Greek 
 terminations, and cannot properly be added to An- 
 glo-Saxon words. 1st is the substantive form, ize 
 the verbal. Among the monsters in this form none 
 is more frequently met with than jeopardize — a fool- 
 ish and intolerable word, which has no rightful place 
 in the language, although even such a writer as 
 Charles Reade thus uses it : — 
 
 " He drew in the horns of speculation, and went on in the old, 
 safe routine ; and to the restless activity that had jeopardized 
 the firm succeeded a strange torpidity." 
 
 Certain verbs have been formed from nouns and 
 adjectives by the addition of ise, or properly ize; 
 as, for example, equal, equalize ; civil, civilize ; -pa- 
 tron, patronize. But jeopardize has no such claims 
 to toleration or respect. It is formed by adding ize 
 to a verb of long standing in the language, and 
 which means to put in peril ; and jeopardize, if it 
 means anything, means nothing more or less. 
 
 Experimentalize is a word of the same char- 
 acter as the foregoing. It has no rightful place 
 in the language, and is both uncouth and pre- 
 tentious. The termination ize is not to be tacked 
 indiscriminately to any word in the language, 
 verbs and adverbs as well as adjectives and nouns, 
 for the purpose of making new verbs that are 
 not needed. It has a meaning, and that mean- 
 ing seems to be continuity of action ; certainly 
 
WORDS THAT ARE NOT WORDS. 21 5 
 
 action, and action which is not momentary. Thus, 
 equalize, to make equal ; naturalize, to make as by 
 natural ; civilize, to make civil ; so with moralize, 
 legalize, humanize, etc. But the people who use ex- 
 perimentalize •> use it in the sense, to try experi- 
 ments. Experiment, however, is both noun and 
 verb, and will serve all purposes not better served 
 by try and trial. 
 
 Controversialist, conversationalist , and agricul- 
 turalist, too frequently heard, are inadmissible for 
 reasons like to those given against experiment- 
 alize. The proper words are controvertist, con- 
 versationist, and agriculturist. The others have 
 no proper place in the English vocabulary. 
 
 The ridiculous effect of the slang words shootist, 
 stabbist, walkist, and the like, is produced by the 
 incongruity of adding ist to verbs of Teutonic ori- 
 gin. Er, the Anglo-Saxon sign of the doer of a 
 thing, is incorrectly affixed to such words as -pho- 
 tograph and telegraph, which should give us pho- 
 tographist and telegraphist; as we say, correctly, 
 paragraphist, not paragrapher ; although the lat- 
 ter would have the support of such words as geog- 
 rapher and biographer, which are firmly fixed in 
 the language. 
 
 Petroleum. — This word may be admitted as 
 perfectly legitimate, but it is one of a class which is 
 doing injury to the language. Petroleum means 
 merely rock oil. In it the two corresponding Latin 
 words, petra and oleum, are only put together; 
 and we, most of us, use the compound without 
 knowing what it means. Now, there is no good 
 reason, or semblance of one, why we should use a 
 
2l6 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 pure Latin compound of four syllables to express 
 that which is better expressed in an English one of 
 two. The language is full of w r ords compounded 
 of two or more simple ones, and which are used with- 
 out a thought of their being themselves other than 
 simple words — chestnut, walnut, acorn, household, 
 husbandman, manhood, witchcraft, shepherd, sher- 
 iff, anon, alone, wheelwright, toward, forward, 
 and the like. The power to form such words is an 
 element of wealth and strength in a language ; and 
 every word got up for the occasion out of the Latin 
 or the Greek lexicon, when a possible English com- 
 pound would serve the same purpose, is a standing 
 but unjust reproach to the language — a false im- 
 putation of both weakness and inflexibility. The 
 English out-take is much better than the Latin 
 compound by which it has been supplanted — ex- 
 cept. And why should we call our bank-side towns 
 riparian ? In dropping wanhope we have thrown 
 away a word for which despair is not an equiva- 
 lent ; and the place of truth-like, or true-seeming 
 would be poorly filled by the word which some very 
 elegant people are seeking to foist upon us — vrai- 
 semblable. If those who have given us petroleum 
 for rock oil had had the making of our language in 
 past times, our evergreens would have been called 
 sempervirids. 
 
 Practitioner is an unlovely intruder, which has 
 slipped into the English language through the phy- 
 sician's gate. We have no verb practition to be 
 made a noun expressive of agency by the affix er. 
 But either practitioner or practitionist means only 
 one who practises, a practiser. Physicians speak of 
 
WORDS THAT ARE NOT WORDS. 217 
 
 their practice, and of the practice of medicine, and 
 in the next breath call a medical man a practitioner. 
 The dictionary-makers give practise as the stem 
 of practitioner — it is difficult to see why. The 
 word is evidently the French praticien, which has 
 been Anglified first by distortion, and then by an 
 incongruous addition, in the hope of attaining what 
 was unattainable — a word meaning something big- 
 ger and finer than is meant by the simple and cor- 
 rect form practiscr. 
 
 Presidential. — This adjective, which is used 
 among us now more frequently than any other not 
 vituperative, laudatory, or boastful, is not a legiti- 
 mate word. Carelessness or ignorance has sad- 
 dled it with an *', which is on the wrong horse. It 
 belongs to a sort of adjectives which are formed 
 from substantives by the addition of al. For 
 example, incident \ incidental ; orient, oriental; 
 regiment, regimental ; experiment, experimental. 
 When the noun ends in ce, euphony and ease of 
 utterance require the modification of the sound of 
 al into that of ial ; as office, official ; consequence, 
 consequential ; commerce, commercial. But we 
 might as well say parcntial, monumential, and 
 governmential, as -presidential. The proper form 
 is presidcntal, as that of the adjectives formed upon 
 tangent and exponent is tangental and exponental. 
 Presidential, tangential, and exponential are a 
 trinity of monsters which, although they have not 
 been lovely in their lives, should yet in their death 
 be not divided. 
 
 Tangential and exponential, it is plain, were in- 
 correctly made up by some mathematician ; and 
 
2l8 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 mathematicians, however exact they may be in 
 their scientific work, are frequently at fault in 
 their formation of words and phrases. These 
 words and ^presidential are the only examples of 
 their kind which have ^received the recognition, and 
 have been stamped with the authority, even of dic- 
 tionary-makers ; which recognition and stamp of 
 authority mean simply that the dictionary-makers 
 have found the words somewhere, and have added 
 them to the heterogeneous swarm upon their pages. 
 Euphony, no less than analogy, cries out for the 
 correct forms, presidental, tangental, and ex p orien- 
 tal . The rule of analogy is far from being abso- 
 lute ; but if analogy may not be reasoned from in 
 etymology (although not always as the ultima 
 ratio}, language must needs be abandoned to the 
 popular caprice of the moment, and we must admit 
 that, in speech, whatever is, at any time, in any 
 place, among whatever speakers, is right. 
 
 The phrase -presidential campaign is a blatant 
 Americanism, and is a good example of what has 
 been well styled* " that inflamed newspaper Eng- 
 lish which some people describe as being elo- 
 quence." Is it not time that we had done with 
 this nauseous talk about campaigns, and standard- 
 bearers, and glorious victories, and all the bloated 
 army-bumming bombast which is so rife for the six 
 months preceding an election? To read almost 
 any one of our political papers during a canvass is 
 enough to make one sick and sorry. The calling 
 a canvass a campaign is not defensible as a use of 
 
 * In " The Nation," a paper which is doing much, I hope, at once to sober and to 
 elevate the tone both of our journalism and our politics. 
 
WORDS THAT ARE NOT WORDS. 2IO. 
 
 metaphor, because, first, no metaphor is called for, 
 and last, this one is entirely out of keeping. We 
 could do our political talking much better in simple 
 English. One of the great needs of the day, in re- 
 gard to language, is the purging it of the prurient 
 and pretentious metaphors which have broken out 
 all over it, and the getting plain people to say plain 
 things in a plain way. An election has no manner 
 of likeness to a campaign or a battle. It is not 
 even a contest in which the stronger and more dex- 
 terous party is the winner : it is a mere comparison, 
 a counting, in which the bare fact that one party is 
 the more numerous puts it in power, if it will 
 only come up and be counted ; to insure which, 
 a certain time is spent by each party in belittling 
 and reviling the candidates of its opponents, and in 
 magnifying and lauding its own ; and this is the 
 canvass, at the likening of which to a campaign 
 every honest. soldier might reasonably take offence. 
 The loss of an election is sure to be attributed to vari- 
 ous causes by the losers ; but the only and the sim- 
 ple and sufficient cause is, that more men chose to 
 vote against them than with them ; and as to the 
 why of the why, it is either conviction, or friend- 
 ship, or interest, with which all the meeting and 
 parading, and bawling and shrieking, of the previ- 
 ous three or four months has nothing to do what- 
 ever. It will be well for the political morality and 
 the mental tone of our people when they are brought 
 to see this matter as it is, simply of itself; and one 
 very efficient mode of enabling them to do so, would 
 be for journals of character and men of sense to 
 write and speak of it in plain language, calling a 
 
2 20 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 spade a spade, instead of using " that inflamed Eng- 
 lish " which is now its common vehicle, and which is 
 so contagious and so corrupting : — so contagious, and 
 so corrupting, indeed, that I am not fond enough to 
 hope that anything said here, even were it said with 
 more reason and stronger persuasion than I can use, 
 will unsettle any fixed habit of speech in my read- 
 ers. I merely tell them what, in my judgment, it 
 is right and best to say, knowing in my heart, all 
 the while, that they, or most of them, will go on 
 speaking as they hear those around them speak, as 
 they will act as they see those around them acting. 
 People do not learn good English or good manners 
 by verbal instruction received after adolescence. 
 Ever}?- man is like the apostle Peter in one re- 
 spect — that his tongue bewrays him. 
 
 Proven, which is frequently used now by law- 
 yers and journalists, should, perhaps, be ranked 
 among words that are not words. Those who use 
 it seem to think that it means something more, or 
 other, than the word for which it is a mere Low- 
 land Scotch and North of England provincialism. 
 Proved is the past participle of the verb to prove, 
 and should be used by all who wish to speak 
 English. 
 
 Reliable. — Before giving our attention direct- 
 ly to this word, it will be well to consider what 
 might be said in favor of one which has some- 
 what similar claims to a place in the language — 
 undisfellowshi fable. We have seen that the verb to 
 fellowship has the " authority " of ancient and distin- 
 guished usage. Now, if we can fellowship with a 
 man, we may disfellowship with him ; and if a man 
 
WORDS THAT ARE NOT WORDS. 221 
 
 whom we may rely upon is a reliable man, a man 
 whom we can disfellowship with is disfellowshipa- 
 ble, and one whose claims upon us are such that we 
 cannot disfellowship with him is undisfellowshipable. 
 I admit that I can discover no defect in this reasoning 
 if the premises are granted. If mere ancient and 
 honorable use authorizes a word, the verb to fellow- 
 ship — as, I would fellowship with him — has un- 
 deniable authority; and no reason which can be 
 given for calling a man who may be relied upon 
 reliable will fail to support us in calling a man who 
 can be fellowshipped with fellowshipable. It may, 
 however, be urged, — and I should venture to take 
 the position, — that the mere use of a word, or a col- 
 location of syllables with an implied meaning, what- 
 ever the eminence of the user, is not a sufficient 
 ground for the reception of that word into the recog- 
 nized vocabulary of a language. For instance, 
 the word intrinsecate is used by Shakespeare him- 
 self:— 
 
 " Come, mortal wretch, 
 With thy sharp tooth this knot intrinsecate 
 Of life at once untie." — Ant. and Cleop., V. 2. 
 
 But, as Dr. Johnson said, "this word seems to have 
 been ignorantly formed between intricate and in- 
 trinsecal ;" and it has, notwithstanding the preemi- 
 nent position of him who made it, no recognized 
 place in the language, and is one of the words that 
 are not words. 
 
 Reliable is conspicuous among those words. 
 That it is often heard merely shows that many per- 
 sons have been led into the error of using it ; that 
 other words of like formation have been found in 
 
222 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 the writings of men of more or less note in litera- 
 ture merely shows that inferior men are not more 
 incapable than Shakespeare was of using words 
 ignorantly formed by the union of incongruous ele- 
 ments. Passing for the present the words which 
 are brought up to support reliable by analogy (on 
 the ground, it would seem, unless they themselves 
 can be sustained by reason, that one error may be 
 justified by others), let us confine our attention to 
 that one of the group, which, being oftenest heard, 
 is of most importance. 
 
 Probably no accumulation of reason and authority 
 would protect the language from this innovating 
 word (which is none the worse, however, because 
 it is new) ; for to some sins men are so wedded that 
 they will shut their ears to Moses and the prophets, 
 and to one risen from the dead. Previous writers 
 have well remarked that it is anomalous in position 
 and incongruous in formation ; that adjectives in 
 able, or its equivalent, ible, are formed from verbs 
 transitive, the passive participle of which can be 
 united with the meaning of the suffix in the definition 
 of the adjective. For example, lovable, that may 
 be loved; legible, that may be read; eatable, that 
 may be eaten ; curable, that may be cured, and so 
 forth ; that reliable does not mean that may be 
 relied, but is used to mean that may be relied ufon, 
 and that, therefore, it is not tolerable. The counter- 
 plea has been, until recently, usage and conven- 
 ience. But the usage in question has been too short 
 and too unauthoritative to have any weight; and 
 convenience is not a justification of monstrosity, 
 when the monstrosity is great, offensive, and of 
 
WORDS THAT ARE NOT WORDS. 223 
 
 degrading influence, and the convenience so small 
 as to be inappreciable. But it has been recently 
 urged, with an air of pardonable triumph, that the 
 rule of formation above mentioned has not pre- 
 vailed in our language, as is shown by the presence 
 in it of long-established adjectives, bearing with 
 them the weight of all possible authority ; for in- 
 stance, laughable, which does not mean that may 
 be laughed, but that may be laughed at. Here the 
 case has rested ; and if this argument could not be 
 overthrown, the question would have been decided 
 b} r it, and the use of reliable would be a matter of 
 individual taste. But the argument goes too far, 
 because those who used it did not go far enough. 
 Comfortable does not mean that may be comforted, 
 but that has or that gives comfort ; forcible, not that 
 may be forced, but that is able to force ; seasonable, 
 not that may be seasoned, but that is in season, in 
 accord with the season ; leisurable, that has leisure ; 
 fashionable, that has fashion. The suffix able, in 
 Latin abilis, expresses the idea of power,* and so 
 of capacity, ability, fitness. It may be affixed either 
 to verbs or to nouns ; and of adjectives in this class 
 not a few are formed upon the latter. In the ex- 
 amples above it is affixed to nouns. Now, laugh is 
 a noun, and laughable, marriageable, treasonable, 
 leisurable, objectionable, and companionable are in 
 the same category. Laughable does, in effect, 
 mean that may be laughed at, as objectionable 
 means, in effect, that may be objected to , but neither 
 must therefore be regarded as formed from the 
 verb by which each may be defined. Finally, the 
 
 * See Tooke's "Diversions of Purley," VoL II. p. 502. 
 
224 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 fact is that, excepting a comparatively few adjec- 
 tives in able or ible thus formed upon nouns,* every 
 one of the multitudinous class of adjectives formed 
 by this suffix — a class which includes about nine 
 hundred words — is formed upon a verb transitive, 
 and may be defined by the passive participle. They 
 afford, therefore, no support to the word reliable, 
 because we cannot rely anything. 
 
 Professor Whitney, in his book on "The Study 
 of Language," a work combining knowledge and 
 wisdom in a greater degree than any other of its 
 kind in English literature, gives some attention to 
 the word in question, but contents himself with 
 setting forth the arguments for and against it, with- 
 out summing up the case and passing judgement. 
 Among the reasons in its favor he mentions "the 
 enrichment of the language by a synonyme, which 
 may yet be made to distinguish a valuable shade 
 of meaning ; which, indeed, already shows sight of 
 doing so, as we tend to say f a trustworthy witness ' 
 but ' reliable testimony.' " 
 
 This is plausible, but only plausible; and it has 
 been well answered by an able pupil of Professor 
 Whitney's, and one worthy of his master,! as fol- 
 lows : — 
 
 " A little examination will show that there is no case at all for 
 the word in question. There is really no tendency whatever, 
 in common speech, to differentiate the two words in the senses 
 named, for reliable is, in a large majority of cases, applied to 
 persons. Nor, if there were such a tendency, would it add any- 
 thing to the language, any more than to devise two distinct 
 verbs meaning believe, the one to express believing a man, the 
 other, believing what he says." 
 
 * No small proportion of them is cited above. Many which have no proper place 
 in the language are to be found in dictionaries. 
 
 t Mr. Charlton Lewis in "The Evening Post" of March 6, 1869. 
 
WORDS THAT ARE NOT WORDS. 2 25 
 
 Of the common use of reliable , I met with the 
 following amusing and illustrative example in the 
 Paris correspondence of the London " Star." The 
 Prince and Princess Christian, arriving at the French 
 capital, had been compelled, for want of better 
 carriage, to visit Trianon in a cab. Whereupon a 
 quarter of a column of British astonishment and 
 disgust, closing with this paragraph : — 
 
 " I do the justice to the Prefect to assert that a telegram de- 
 spatched on the party leaving Paris would have secured the 
 presence of a more reliable vehicle than a hackney cab at the 
 Versailles station." 
 
 Here our word is put to fitting service in contrast- 
 ing a reliable vehicle with an unreliable cab. And 
 here is yet another instance in which the word ap- 
 pears suitably accompanied. The sentence is from 
 the prospectus of "The Democrat," published by 
 the gentleman known as " Brick Pomeroy." 
 
 " Politically it will be Democratic, red-hot and reliable." 
 
 The red-hot and reliable democracy of Mr. 
 "Brick Pomeroy's " paper and the unreliable cab 
 at Versailles are w r ell consorted. 
 
 Of the few words which may be, and some of 
 which have been, cited in support of reliable, here 
 follow the most important — the examples of their 
 use being taken from Richardson's Dictionary : — 
 
 Anchorablc. " The sea, everywhere twenty leagues from land, 
 is anchor able." — Sir T. Herbert. 
 
 Complainable. ''Though both be blamable, yet superstition 
 is less complain able." — Feltham. 
 
 Disposable. "The office is not disposable by the- crown." 
 — Burke. 
 
 Inquirable. ''There may be many more things inquirable bv 
 you." — Bacon. 
 
 IS 
 
226 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 Of these passages, the first affords an example 
 of the improper use of words properly formed ; the 
 second, of unjustifiable formations, like reliable. 
 A vessel may be anchorable ; a sea cannot be 
 so : neither a superstition nor anything else can 
 be complainable, although it may be complained 
 of. Herbert and Feltham could go astray in the 
 use of anc/wrable and complainable, as Shakes- 
 peare could in that of intrinsecate. The other 
 two words could be accepted as of any weight 
 upon this question only through ignorance both of 
 their meaning and their history. Dispose does not 
 need of to complete its transitive sense ; and the 
 preposition has been added to it in common usage 
 quite recently — long after disposable came into the 
 language. Richardson affords the following ex- 
 amples in point : — 
 
 " Sens God seeth everything out of doutance, 
 And hem disposeth through his ordinance." 
 
 Chaucer. 
 
 " But God, who secretly disposeth the course of things." 
 
 Tyndal. 
 
 And to this day we say that people dispose (not 
 
 dispose of) themselves in groups to their liking, as 
 
 Spenser said : — 
 
 " The rest themselves in troupes did else dispose." 
 
 Faerie J^hieene, II. 8. 
 
 And accordingly Prynne, a careful writer, who 
 lived two hundred years before Burke, says of the 
 realm of Bohemia, " most of the great offices of 
 which realme are hereditary, and not disposable by 
 the king." 
 
 Inquirable, as used by Bacon, means, not that 
 may be inquired into, but that may be inquired, i. e., 
 
WORDS THAT ARE NOT WORDS. 227 
 
 asked. It is simply equivalent to askable. In the 
 sense of inquired into it would not be admissible, 
 and no recent examples of its use, or of its use in 
 that sense, are cited by Richardson. 
 
 Available — the word which seems most to sup- 
 port reliable, because it is surely formed upon the 
 verb avail, and because, although we may say of a 
 thing that it avails much or it avails nought, we 
 cannot say it may be availed — is itself unavail- 
 able to the end for which it is cited. For avail 
 itself is an anomalous and exceptional word in the 
 manner of its use. It means to have value, effect, 
 worth, power. Yet we say, both, It avails little, and 
 He avails himself of it; both, Of what avail was it? 
 and It was of no avail, as we say, Of what worth was 
 it? and It was of no worth. But we cannot, or do not, 
 speak of the avail of anything, as we speak of the 
 worth of any thing. Avail, both as verb and sub- 
 stantive, was used absolutely by our early writers in 
 the sense of value, and available — i.e., that may 
 be valued — came into the language under those 
 circumstances. 
 
 Unrefentable, which is used by Pollok, a writer 
 of low rank and no authority, has been cited in 
 support of reliable. But there is no verb unre- 
 ■pent ; nor is there any instance known of the use 
 of the adjective refentable. And although exam- 
 ples are numerous of the use in the Elizabethan 
 period of refent absolutely, without of* yet we 
 read in our English Bible not of a repentance not 
 repentable, but of "a repentance not to be repented 
 of." 
 
 * See Mrs. Clarke's " Concordance to Shakespeare." 
 
228 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 Accountable and answerable are, like available , 
 anomalous, self-incongruous, and exceptionable. 
 Accountable is used to mean, not that may be ac- 
 counted for, but that may be held to account ; but 
 answerable is used to mean both that may be an- 
 swered (in which it is not a counterpart of reliable) 
 and, that may be held to answer; while unaccount- 
 able is used only to mean that cannot be account- 
 ed for, and unanswerable, only that cannot be an- 
 swered. These adjectives are out of all keeping. 
 
 These are all the instances of adjectives in ble 
 which are worthy of attention in the consideration 
 of this formation ; and we have seen that none of 
 them support the use of the affix with a verb de- 
 pendent and intransitive, like rely. If there were 
 a noun rely, upon that we might form reliable, as 
 companionable has been formed on companion, and 
 dutiable on ditty. Unless we keep to this law of 
 formation, there is no knowing where we may find 
 ourselves — stranded, it maybe, on some such rock 
 as a grievable tale, an untrhieable person, or a weep- 
 able tragedy. For instance, reliable has been fol- 
 lowed into the world by a worthy kinsman, liveable, 
 in the phrase " a liveable house," which we not 
 only hear now sometimes, but even see in print, 
 although it has not yet been taken into the diction- 
 aries. See, for example, the following passage 
 from a magazine of such high and well-deserved a 
 reputation as " Macmillan's : " — • 
 
 " In the first place, we would lay down as a fundamental prin- 
 ciple in furnishing, that the end in view should be to make a 
 house or a room cheerful, comfortable, and liveable. We say 
 liveable, because there are so many which, though handsomely 
 furnished, are dreary in the extreme, and the very thought of 
 living in them makes one shudder." 
 
WORDS THAT ARE NOT WORDS. 229 
 
 Now, a life is liveable, because a man may live 
 a life, as he can be himself; but a house cannot be 
 lived any more than a pea-jacket. Either ma} T be 
 lived in, according to the liver's fancy. Let us not, 
 through mere sloth and slovenliness, give up for 
 such a mess as reliable our birthright in a good 
 word and a good phrase for a man who is trust- 
 worthy, and whose word may be relied upon. 
 
 Preventative, Casuality, receive a passing 
 notice, only because they are heard so often instead 
 of -preve?itive, casualty. They ought to be, but I 
 fear that they are not, evidences of an utter want 
 of education and of a low grade of intelligence. 
 
 Resurrected. — This amazing formation has 
 lately appeared in some of our newspapers, one of 
 them edited by a man who has been clerk of the 
 Senate, another, one of the most carefully edited 
 journals in the country. For example : — 
 
 "The invention described in yesterday's Times, and displayed 
 on Saturday at Newark, by which a person who may happen to 
 be buried alive is enabled to resurrect himself from the grave, 
 may leave some people to fancy there is actual danger of their 
 being buried alive." 
 
 A weekly paper, of some pretensions, now ex- 
 tinct, described Thomas Rowley as a priest whose 
 writings Chatterton " professed to resurrect in the 
 form of old, stained, moth-eaten manuscripts." 
 
 What is this word intended to mean? Possibly 
 the same act which people who speak English mean 
 when they say that Lazarus was raised from the 
 dead. The formation of resurrect from resurrection 
 is just of a piece with the formation of donate from 
 donation, inter cess from intercession. But it is 
 
23O WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 somewhat worse ; for resurrected is used to mean 
 raised, and resurrection does not mean raising, but 
 rising. Thus we speak of the raising of Lazarus, 
 but of the resurrection of Christ ; of God's raising 
 the dead, but of the resurrection of the dead. 
 
 Sis and Bub. — The gentlemen who, with affec- 
 tionate gayety and gay affection, address very 
 young ladies as Sis or Sissy, indulge themselves 
 in that captivating freedom in the belief that they 
 are merely using an abbreviation of sister. They 
 are wrong. They doubtless mean to be frater- 
 nal, or paternal, and so subjectively their notion 
 is correct. But Si's, as a generic name for a young 
 girl, has come straight down to us, without the 
 break of a day, from the dark ages. It is a mere 
 abbreviation or nickname of Cicely, and appears 
 all through our early literature as Cis and Cissy. 
 It was used, like Joan and Moll, to mean any 
 young girl, as Rob or Hob, the nicknames of 
 Robin, were applied in a general way to any 
 young man of the lower classes. Of the latter 
 name, Bub and Bubby are not improbably corrupt 
 representatives ; although we may here have a real 
 childish pronunciation of 'brother. 
 
 Shamefaced, as every reader of Archbishop 
 Trench's books on English knows, is a mere cor- 
 ruption of shamefast, a word of the steadfast sort. 
 The corruption, doubtless, had its origin in a misap- 
 prehension due to the fact that fast was pronounced 
 like facd, with the name sound of a, which led to the 
 supposition that shamefast was merely an irregular 
 spelling of shamefaced. To a similar confusion of 
 words pronounced alike we owe the phrase "not 
 
WORDS THAT ARE NOT WORDS 23 1 
 
 worth a damn," in which the last word represents 
 zvater-cress. The Anglo-Saxon name of the cress 
 was cerse ; and this, by that transposition of the r 
 so common in the earlier stages of our language, 
 and which gave us bird for brid, and burn for bren, 
 became cres. But for a long time it retained its 
 original form ; and a man who meant to say that 
 anything was of very little value, said sometimes that 
 it was not worth a rush, and others that it was not 
 worth a cerse, or kerse. For example (one of 
 many), see this passage of "Piers Ploughman's 
 Vision : " — 
 
 Wisdom and wit now 
 
 Is noght worth a kerse, 
 
 But if it be cai'ded with coveitise, 
 
 As clotheres kemben his wolle." 
 
 Identity of sound between two words led to a 
 misapprehension which changed the old phrase into 
 f * not worth a curse ; " and a liking for variety, 
 which has not been without its influence, even in 
 the vocabulary of oaths and objurgations, led to the 
 substitution to which we owe "not worth a damn." 
 But for one variety of this phrase, which is peculiar 
 to this country, and which is one of its very few 
 original peculiarities, " not worth a continental 
 damn," I am at a loss to assign a source; except 
 that it may be found in that tendency to vastness 
 of ideas, and that love of annexation of which we 
 are somewhat justly accused, and which crops out 
 even in our swearing. 
 
 Stand-point. — To say the best of it, this is a 
 poor compound. It receives some support, but not 
 full justification, from the German stand-j)unkt , of 
 
232 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 which, indeed, it is supposed to be an Anglicized 
 form, first used by Professor Moses Taylor. Grant- 
 ing for the moment that stand-foint may be accepted 
 as meaning standing-point, and that when we say, 
 from our stand-point, we intend to say from the point 
 at which we stand, what we really mean is, from 
 our point of view, and we should say so. Periph- 
 rasis is to be avoided when it is complicated or 
 burdensome, but never at the cost of correctness ; 
 and periphrasis is sometimes not only stronger, 
 because clearer, than a single word, but more ele- 
 gant. Stand-point, whatever the channel of its 
 coming into use, is of the sort to which the vulgar 
 words wash-tub, shoe-horn, brew-house, cook-stove, 
 and go-cart belong, the first four of which are 
 merely slovenly and uncouth abbreviations of wash- 
 ing-tub, shoeing-horn, brewing-house, and cooking- 
 stove, the last being a nursery word, a counterpart 
 to which would be rock-horse, instead of rocking- 
 horse. Compounds of this kind are properly formed 
 by the union of a substantive or participle, used 
 adjectively, with a substantive ; and their meaning 
 may be exactly expressed by reversing the position of 
 the elements of the compound, and connecting them 
 by one of the prepositions of, to, and for. Thus, 
 death-bed, bed of death ; stumbling-block, block 
 of stumbling ; turning -point, point of turning ; 
 play-ground, ground for play ; dew-point, point of 
 dew ; steam-boat, boat for or of steam {bateau de va- 
 peur) ; starvation-point , point of starvation ; horse- 
 trough, trough for horses ; rain-bow, bow of rain ; 
 bread-knife, knife for bread ; house-top, top of house ; 
 dancing-girl, girl for dancing ; and standing-point, 
 
WORDS THAT ARE NOT WORDS. 233 
 
 point for or of standing ; and so forth. But by no 
 contrivance can we explain standpoint as the point 
 of, or to, or for, stand. 
 
 Telegram. — This word, which is claimed as 
 an "American" production, has taken root quickly, 
 and is probably well fixed in the language. It is 
 both superfluous and incorrectly formed ; but it is 
 regarded as convenient, and has been allowed to 
 pass muster. Telegraph is equally good as a verb 
 expressing the act of writing, and as a noun ex- 
 pressing the thing written. This is according to a 
 well-known analogy of the language. But they 
 who must have a distinct etymology for every word 
 may regard telegraph, the verb, as from yguyeiv 
 (graphein) = to write, and the noun as from the 
 Greek noun yQucprj (graphe) =a writing. In mono- 
 graph, epigraph, and paragraph, the last syllable 
 in like manner represents yqaqtrj (graphe) ; in mon- 
 ogram , epigram, and diagram the last syllable 
 represents ygafi/m (gramma) = an engraved charac- 
 ter, a letter.* This distinction, remembered, will 
 prevent a confusion which prevails with many 
 speakers as to certain words in graph and gram. 
 A monograph is an essay or an account having a 
 single subject ; a monogram, a character or cipher 
 composed of several letters combined in one figure : 
 an epigraph is an inscription, a citation, a motto; 
 an epigram, a short poem on one subject. The 
 confusion of these terminations has recently led 
 some writers into errors which are amazing and 
 
 * Toa/jifia, litera, scriptum ; (2) librum ; (3) scriptum quodcunqueut tabulae publics, 
 leges, libri rationum, &c, et in plurali; (4) epistola, liters; (5) literae, doctrina ; 
 (6) acta publica, tabulae ; (7) chirographum. 
 
 rpa<pr), scriptura, scriptio ; (2) pictura ; (3) accusatio. — Hederici Lexicon. 
 
234 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 amusing. We have had fhotogram proposed, and 
 stereogram, and — Cadmus save us ! — cablegram, 
 not only proposed, but used. Finally, to cap the 
 climax of absurdity, some ingenious person, encour- 
 aged by such example, proposes thalagram as " fully 
 expressive and every way appropriate," because 
 thalassa is the Greek for sea, and gramma the Greek 
 for letter, and the letters come through the sea. 
 The first two, although homogeneous, are incorrect, 
 the proper termination in both cases being graph, 
 representing ygaw (graphe), a writing, and not 
 gram, from ygafifia (jgr amnio), a character; and in 
 the third there is not only the same error, but the 
 incongruous union of the Teutonic cable with the 
 Greek gramma. The last is not worth serious con- 
 sideration. Such words as cablegram and thala- 
 gram are only deplorable and ridiculous examples 
 of what is produced when men who are unfit to 
 work in language undertake to make a word that 
 is not wanted. There is no more need of such 
 words as cablegram and thalagram were meant to 
 be, than there is of a new name for bread-and-but- 
 ter. A telegraph is the thing which sends words 
 from afar, and telegram is in general use to mean 
 the word or words so sent ; and whether they 
 come across land or water, what matter? what is it 
 to any reasonable purpose? A telegram from Eu- 
 rope, or from California, or from China, is all the 
 same, whatever may be the route by which it is 
 sent. Whether it comes by an iron cable, or a 
 copper wire, over land or through water, what 
 difference? There could not be a finer specimen 
 of an utterly superfluous monster than this English- 
 Greek hybrid cablegram. 
 
WORDS THAT ARE NOT WORDS. 235 
 
 Time and Tide wait for no Man. — This prov- 
 erb, one of the oldest in the language, one of the 
 most commonly used, and one which cannot be 
 expressed with its full force and point in any other 
 tongue, may be noticed here without impropriety, 
 because it is probably not understood by one in a 
 thousand of its users. The word misunderstood is 
 tide, which, contrary to almost universal apprehen- 
 sion of the adage, does not here mean the ebb and 
 flow of the ocean. Tide has here its original mean- 
 ing — time. Thus we find in some Middle English 
 Glosses, published in the " Reliquiae Antique " (Vol. 
 I. p. 12) , " tempore=tyda." But tide is not a mere 
 synonyme of time ; it means a time, an allotment 
 of time, an occasion. It was long used for hour, 
 as in the following Anglo-Saxon statement of the 
 length of the year: " dis is full yer, twelf mon^as 
 fulle and endlufan dagas, six tida ; " i. e., this is a 
 full year, twelve full months, and eleven days, six 
 hours. It meant also a certain or an appointed 
 time; e.g., "Nu tumorgen on J>is ylcan tid," i. e., 
 Now to-morrow on this same time. (Exodus ix. 
 18.) This sense of an appointed time it had in the 
 old, and now no longer heard, saying, The tider you 
 go, the tider you come, which Skinner renders thus 
 in Latin : £>tio temporius discedis, eo temporius rc- 
 cedis. The ebb and flow of the sea came to be 
 called the tide because it takes place at appointed 
 seasons. The use of tide in this sense, a set time, 
 a season, continued to a very late period ; of which 
 the following passage from Shakespeare is an 
 example : 
 
236 WORDS AND THEIR USES 
 
 " What hath this day deserved, 
 That it in golden letters should be set 
 Among the high tides in the calendar?" 
 
 King John, iii. 1., 
 
 where " high tides " has plainly no meaning of 
 peculiar interest to mariners and fishermen. Chau- 
 cer says, in "Troilus and Cressida : " — 
 
 " The morrow came, and nighen gan the time 
 Of mealtide." 
 
 This use of the word is still preserved in the names 
 of two appointed seasons, the church festivals Whit- 
 suntide and Christmastide, or Christtide, which are 
 more in vogue in England than in this country. 
 Tide appears in this sense in the word betide. For 
 example : Woe betide you ! that is, Woe await you ; 
 May there be occasion of woe to you. Tide was 
 thus used before the addition of the prefix be, as in 
 the following lines from a poetical interpretation of 
 dreams, written about A. D. 1315 : — 
 
 " Gif the see is yn tempeste 
 The tid anguisse ant eke cheste " (J. e., strife). 
 
 Our proverb, therefore, means, not time and the 
 flow of the sea wait for no man, but time and occa- 
 sion, opportunity, wait for no man. The proverb 
 appears almost literally in the following lines, which 
 are the first two of an epitaph of the fifteenth cen- 
 tury, that may be found in the "Reliquiae Antiquae " 
 (Vol. I. p. 268): — 
 
 " Farewell, my frendis, the tide abideth no man; 
 I am departed fro this, and so shall ye," 
 
 where, again, there is manifestly no allusion to the 
 flow of water. There is an old agricultural phrase 
 still used among the Lowland Scotch farmers, in 
 
WORDS THAT ARE NOT WORDS. 237 
 
 which tide appears in the sense of season : " The 
 grund's no in tid," i. e., The ground is not in sea- 
 son, not ready at the proper time for the earing. 
 
 The use of tide in its sense of hour, the hour, led 
 naturally to a use of hour for tide. Among the 
 examples that might be cited of this conversion, 
 there is a passage in " Macbeth w which has long 
 been a puzzle to readers and commentators, and 
 upon which, in my own edition of Shakespeare, I 
 have only given some not very relevant comments 
 by the Rev. Mr. Hunter. Macbeth says (Act i. 
 scene 3), — 
 
 "Time and the hour runs through the roughest day." 
 
 As an hour is but a measured lapse of time, there 
 has been much discussion as to why Shakespeare 
 should have written " time and the hour," and many 
 passages have been quoted from Shakespeare and 
 other poets by the commentators, in which time and 
 hour are found in close relation ; but they are all, 
 as such quotations are apt to be, quite from the 
 purpose. 
 
 "Time and the hour" in this passage is merely an 
 equivalent of time and tide — the time and tide that 
 wait for no man. Macbeth's brave but unsteadfast 
 soul is shaken to its loose foundations by the prophe- 
 cies of the witches, and the speedy fulfilment of the 
 iirst of them. His ambition fires like tinder at the 
 touch of temptation, and his quick imagination sets 
 before him the bloody path by which he is to reach 
 the last and highest prize, the promised throne. But 
 his good instincts — for he has instincts, not purposes 
 — revolt at. the hideous prospect, and his whole na- 
 ture is in a tumult of conflicting emotion. The soul 
 
238 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 of the man that would not play false, and yet would 
 wrongly win, is laid open at a stroke to us in this 
 first sight we have of him. After shying at the 
 ugly thing, from which, however, he does not bolt, 
 at last he says, cheating himself with the thought 
 that he will wait on Providence, — 
 
 <: If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me 
 Without my stir." 
 
 And then he helps himself out of his tribulation, 
 as men often do, with an old saw, and says it will 
 all come right in the end. Looking into the black, 
 turbulent future, which would be all bright and clear 
 if he would give up his bad ambition, he neither 
 turns back nor goes forward, but says, — 
 
 "Come what come may, 
 Time and the hour runs through the roughest day." 
 
 That is, time and opportunity, time and tide, run 
 through the roughest day ; the day most thickly 
 bestead with trouble is long enough, and has occa- 
 sions enough for the service and the safety of a 
 ready, quick-witted man. But for the rhythm, 
 Shakespeare would probably have written, Time 
 and tide run through the roughest day ; but as the 
 adaire in that form was not well suited to his verse, 
 he used the equivalent phrase, time and the hour 
 (not time and an hour, or time and the hours) ; 
 and the appearance of the singular verb in this line, 
 I am inclined to regard as due to the poet's own pen, 
 not as accidental. 
 
FORMATION OF PRONOUNS. 239 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 FORMATION OF PRONOUNS. SOME. ADJECTIVES 
 
 IN EN. EITHER AND NEITHER. SHALL AND 
 
 WILL. 
 
 FORMATION OF PRONOUNS. 
 
 TWO correspondents have laid before me the 
 great need — which they have discovered — 
 of a new pronoun in English, and both have sug- 
 gested the same means of supplying the deficiency, 
 which is, in the words of the first, "the use of en y 
 or some more euphonious substitute, as a personal 
 pronoun, common gender." "A deficiency exists 
 there," he glibly continues, "and we should fill it." 
 My other correspondent has a somewhat juster 
 notion of the magnitude of his proposition, or, as I 
 should rather say, of its enormity. But, still, he 
 insists that a new pronoun is "universally needed," 
 and as an example of the inconvenience caused by 
 the want, he gives the following sentence : — 
 
 "If a person wishes to sleep, they mustn't eat cheese for 
 supper." 
 
 "Of course," he goes on to say, "that is incorrect; 
 yet almost every one would say they.''' (This I 
 venture to doubt.) "Few would say in common 
 conversation, f If a person wishes to sleep, he or 
 she mustn't eat cheese for supper.' It is too much 
 
24O WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 trouble. We must ha\ge a word to take the place of 
 he or she, his or hers, him or her, etc. 
 As the French make the little word en answer a 
 great many purposes, suppose we take the same 
 word, give it an English pronunciation (or any other 
 word), and make it answer for any and every case 
 of that kind, and thus tend to simplify the lan- 
 guage." 
 
 To all this there are two sufficient replies. First, 
 the thing can't be done ; last, it is not at all neces- 
 sary or desirable that it should be done. And to 
 consider the last point first. There is no such 
 dilemma as the one in question. A speaker of 
 common sense and common mastery of English 
 would say, " If a man wishes to sleep, he must not 
 eat cheese at supper,"* where man, as in the word 
 mankind, is used in a general sense for the species. 
 Any objection to this use of man, and of the rela- 
 tive pronoun, is for the consideration of the next 
 Woman's Rights Convention, at which I hope it 
 may be discussed with all the gravity beseeming its 
 momentous significance. But as a slight contribu- 
 tion to the amenities of the occasion, I venture to 
 suggest that to free the language from the oppres- 
 sion of the sex and from the outrage to its dignity, 
 which have for centuries lurked in this use of man 
 and he, it is not necessary to say, "If a person 
 wishes to sleep, en mustn't *eat cheese for supper," 
 but merely, as the speakers of the best English now 
 say, and have said for generations, " If one wishes 
 to sleep, one mustn't, etc." One, thus used, is a 
 
 * Unless we mean that the supper consisted entirely or chiefly of cheese, we should 
 not say cheese for supper, but cheese at supper. 
 
FORMATION OF PRONOUNS. 24 1 
 
 good pronoun, of healthy, well-rooted growth. And 
 we have in some another word which supplies all our 
 need in this respect without our going to the French 
 for their over-worked en; e. g., Void dcs bonnes 
 fraises. Voulez-vous en avoir ? These are fine 
 strawberries. Will you have some? Thus used, 
 some is to all intents and purposes a pronoun which 
 leaves nothing to be desired. With he 9 she, it, and 
 we, and one, and so?ne, we have no need of en or 
 any other outlandish pronoun. 
 
 Or we should have had one long ere this. For 
 the service to which the proposed pronoun would be 
 put, if it were adopted, is not new. The need is 
 one which, if it exists at all, must have been felt 
 five hundred years ago as much as it can be now. 
 At that period, and long before, a noun in the third 
 person singular was represented, according to its 
 gender, by the pronouns he, she, or it, and there 
 was no pronoun of common gender to take place of 
 all of them. In the matter of language, popular 
 need is inexorable, and popular ingenuity inex- 
 haustible ; and it is not in the nature of things that, 
 if the imagined need had existed, it should not have 
 been supplied during the formative stages of our 
 language, particularly at the Elizabethan period, 
 to which we owe the pronoun its. The introduction 
 of this word, although it is merely the possessive 
 form of it, was a work of so much time and diffi- 
 culty, that an acquaintance with the struggle would 
 alone deter a considerate man from attempting to 
 make a new pronoun. Although, as I have said, 
 it is the mere possessive case of a word which had 
 been on the lips of all men of Anglo-Saxon blood 
 16 
 
242 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 for a thousand years, and although it was intro- 
 duced at a period notable for bold linguistic innova- 
 tions, and was soon adopted by some of the most 
 popular writers, Shakespeare among them, nearly 
 a century elapsed before it was firmly established 
 in the English tongue. 
 
 For pronouns are of all words the remotest in 
 origin, the slowest of growth, the most irregular and 
 capricious in their manner of growth, the most 
 tenacious of hold, the most difficult to plant, the 
 most nearly impossible to transplant. To say that 
 /, the first of pronouns, is three thousand years old, 
 is quite within bounds. We trace it through the 
 old English form ich, the Anglo-Saxon tc 9 the 
 Maeso-Gothic ik, the Icelandic eg, the Latin and 
 Greek ego, the Hebrew verbal postfix 1, to the San- 
 skrit a/i-am. Should any of my readers fail to see 
 the connection between ah-am and /, let him consider 
 for a moment that the English sound expressed by 
 the character / is ah-ee. 
 
 The antiquity of pronouns is shown, also, by the 
 irregularity of their cases. This is generally a trait 
 of the oldest words in any language, verbs and 
 adjectives as well as pronouns. For instance, the 
 words expressing consciousness, existence, pleas- 
 ure, and pain, the first and commonest linguistic 
 needs of all peoples, — in English, /, be, good, bad ; 
 in Latin, ego, esse, bonus, mains, — are regular in 
 no language that I can remember within the narrow 
 circle with which I have been able to establish an 
 acquaintance. Telegrafh and skedaddle are as 
 regular as may be; but we say go, went, gone; the 
 Romans said eo, ire, ivi, itum ; and the irregular- 
 
FORMATION OF PRONOUNS. 2.{3 
 
 ities, dialectic and other, of the Greek Etfit (eimi), are 
 multitudinous and anomalous. English pronouns 
 have real cases, which is one sign of their antiquity, 
 the Anglo-Saxon having been an inflected lan- 
 guage; but not in Anglo-Saxon, Latin, or any 
 other inflected language, are the oblique cases of / 
 derived from it more than they are in English. My, 
 me, we, our, us, are not inflections of /; but neither 
 are meus, mihi, me, nos, nostrum, nobis, inflections 
 oiego. The oblique cases of pronouns are furnished 
 by other parts of speech, or by other pronouns, from 
 which they are taken bodily, or composed in the 
 early, and, generally, unwritten stages of a lan- 
 guage. Between the pronoun and the article there 
 is generally a very close relation. It is in allusion 
 to this fact that Sir Hugh Evans, putting William 
 Page to school (" Merry Wives of Windsor," Act IV. 
 Scene i), and endeavoring to trip the lad, —though 
 he learned the trick of William Lilly the gram- 
 marian, — asks, "What is he, William, that doth 
 lend articles?" But the boy is too quick for him, 
 and replies, "Articles are borrowed of the pronoun, 
 and be thus declined : singular iter, nominativo, 
 hie, hcEC, hoc" 
 
 A marked instance of this relationship between 
 the pronoun and the article, and an instructive ex- 
 ample of the manner in which pronouns come into 
 a language, is our English she, which is borrowed 
 from the Anglo-Saxon definite article se, the feminine 
 form of which was sed ; and this definite article it- 
 self originally was, or was used as, a demonstrative 
 pronoun, corresponding to who, that. For se is # a 
 softened form of the older the ; and Ic the, he the 
 
244 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 are Anglo-Saxon for I who, he who. The Anglo- 
 Saxon for she was heo ; the masculine being, as in 
 English, he. And as a definite feminine object was 
 expressed by the article seo, the likeness and the 
 difference between this and he6, the feminine pro- 
 noun, caused a sort of coalition between the two, 
 as our language was losing its old inflectional form, 
 and passing from Anglo-Saxon into Early English, 
 and from seo and hed came she. Something of the 
 same sort is done by the jocular feminization of the 
 word Hebrew, and the calling a woman of that 
 race a Shebrew. 
 
 Our possessive neuter pronoun its, to which refer- 
 ence has been made before, came into the language 
 last of all its kin, in this manner : As heo was the 
 feminine of he, hit was the neuter. From hit the 
 h was dropped by one of the vicissitudes which 
 have so often damped the aspirations of that unfor- 
 tunate letter. Now in it, the t — half the word —is 
 no part of the original pronoun, but the mere in- 
 flectional termination by which it is formed from 
 he. But by long, usage, in a period of linguistic 
 disintegration, the t came to be looked upon as an 
 essential part of the word, one really original let- 
 ter of which, h, had been dropped by the most 
 cultivated writers. This letter, however, long held 
 its place ; and in the usage of the common people, 
 and in that of some writers, the Anglo-Saxon hit 
 was the neuter pronoun nearly down to the Eliz- 
 abethan period. Of both the masculine he and the 
 neuter hit, the possessive case was his, just as ejus 
 is the genitive of both Me and Mad ; and so his was 
 the proper lineal possessive case of it, the succes- 
 
FORMATION OF PRONOUNS. 
 
 245 
 
 sor of hit. If his had been subjected to a depriva- 
 tion like to that of the nominative, by an elision of 
 the h, and made into is, there would have been no 
 apparent reason to question its relationship to it. 
 But this was not to be. The t, not the h, had come 
 to be regarded as the essential letter of the word ; 
 his was looked upon as belonging to he, and not to 
 it ; and to the latter was added the s, which is a 
 sign of possession in so many of the Indo-Euro- 
 pean languages. But there lingered long, not only 
 among the uneducated people who continued to use 
 hit, but among writers and scholars, a consciousness 
 that his was the true possessive of it, and still more 
 a feeling that its was an illegitimate pretender. 
 And, indeed, if ever word was justly called bas- 
 tard, this one deserves the stigma. But like some 
 other bastards, it has held the place it seized, and 
 justified the usurpation by the service it has ren- 
 dered.* 
 
 This is the history, hitherto untold consecutively, I 
 believe, of a pronoun which as late as A. D. 161 1 was 
 not allowed to appear in a work at once so schol- 
 arly and so idiomatic as our English version of the 
 Bible, which occurs but a few times in Shake- 
 speare, and instead of which we find his, her, and 
 even it, used by writers far down in the seven- 
 teenth century. 
 
 * Some doubt yet prevails as to the origin of the use of his as a sign of the posses- 
 sive case, as, John his book. May it not have come in thus? Es or is, the possessive 
 inflection, was first separated from the noun ; e. g., — 
 
 " &. the sweetest tyring that is to gosshawke & sperhawke is a pigge is tayle." 
 " Anoynt the hawke is erys with oyle of olive, " etc. » 
 
 Book of Hawking (tem. Henry VI.), Relig. Antiq. I. 296, 301. 
 The separation effected, is was aspirated, and supposed to be the pronoun. A pigge 
 his tayle and John his book are not easily distinguishable from a pigg-es tayle and 
 John-es book. Hence the confusion of the two. 
 
246 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 It is worth while to remark that the feminine pos- 
 sessive pronoun has a story somewhat similar to 
 the neuter's. Her is the Anglo-Saxon hire slight- 
 ly modified by time and usage. In hire, and con- 
 sequently in her, the r is not an original element, 
 but merely inflectional ; hire or her being the gen- 
 itive of heo, she. We still say, as our Anglo- 
 Saxon forefathers said, her book, her gown. But 
 the instinct of uniformity which led to the addition 
 of s to it had led also before to the addition of the 
 same letter to her for the formation of a possessive 
 absolute, hers. We say, not, This gown is her, but, 
 This gown is hers ; as we say, Your book, but, This 
 book is yours ; Our house, but, This house is ours. 
 Thus all these absolute possessive nouns in 5 are 
 double possessives, having the possessive affix s 
 added to the inflectional possessive form. In the 
 case of the first example, hers, the inflectional pos- 
 sessive her became the objective, taking the place 
 of the Anglo-Saxon objective or accusative hi; 
 probably because hers was regarded as a possessive 
 formed from her, which in some parts of England 
 among the peasantry is now used as a nomina- 
 tive. 
 
 To the above illustration of the way in which 
 pronouns find their way into a language, I will add 
 one example of this taking of a part of an original 
 word as a root. Had we lived three or four hun- 
 dred years ago, we should have said about this 
 time of year, — July, — that we liked pison for din- 
 ner. But by this we should not have meant that 
 fluid which is sung, cold, in the touching ballad of 
 " Villikins and his Dinah," but simply peas ; and 
 
FORMATION OF PRONOUNS. 247 
 
 we should have pronounced the word, not py-son, 
 but -pee-son. Pison or pis en is merely the old plu- 
 ral in en (like oxen, brethren) of pise — pronounced 
 (peese) — the name of the vegetable which we call 
 pea. Our forefathers said a pise, as we say a pea. 
 When the old plural in en was dropped, pise (peese) 
 came to be regarded as a plural in 5 of a supposed 
 singular, pi (pronounced pee) ; and by this back- 
 ward movement toward a non-existent starting-point, 
 we have attained the word pea. 
 
 To return to our subject. The British Parliament 
 is called omnipotent, and a majority may, by a 
 single vote, change the so-called British Constitu- 
 tion, as a majority of Congress may, if it will, set 
 at naught the Constitution of the United States. 
 But neither Parliament nor Congress, not both of 
 them by a concurrent vote, could make or modify 
 a pronoun in the language common to the nations 
 for which they legislate. 
 
 I shall endeavor to answer another and a difficult 
 question which has been lately asked as to the for- 
 mation of pronouns. Why do we say myself , your- 
 self, ourselves, using, as it appears, the possessive 
 form of the pronoun, and yet himself, themselves, 
 using the objective? No reason has been discov- 
 ered for this anomaly ; but its history is traceable.* 
 
 * The question was asked by Mr. Edward S. Gould, author of " Good English," a 
 book full of counsel and criticism that justifies its title. His communication ap- 
 peared in "The Round Table " of April 10; and the above reply, forming the remain- 
 der of the present chapter, appeared April 24, in the same paper, under date of 
 April 10. An explanation, substantially the same, was subsequently given in "The 
 Round Table" of June 5 by Mr. Thomas Davidson, of St. Louis, an accomplished 
 scholar and etymologist, who thus introduced his remarks : — 
 
 " Mr. Gould's other difficulty is one which he shares with a very large number of 
 scholars. It is a real one, and I have never seen in any book a definite solution of 
 it I will, therefore, ask leave to state, at some length, the results of my own researches 
 
248 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 The emphatic compound pronoun has come directly 
 down to us from the Anglo-Saxon, in which it was 
 formed by the union, although not the compound- 
 ing, of the pronoun ic (I), and the pronominal 
 adjective sylf (self). The adjectival force of the 
 latter word continued long unimpaired. In the 
 Cursor Mundi, a Middle English metrical version 
 of parts of the Bible, Christ says, "For I am self 
 man al perflte," i. e., I am very man all perfect ; and 
 even in Twelfth Night Shakespeare wrote, "with 
 one self king," which the revisors of the text for 
 the folio of 1632, not apprehending, altered to " with 
 one se\f-same king." But the Anglo-Saxon ic (I) 
 and syf (self) were both declined; and when they 
 were united they still were both declined. So, as we 
 have res-^ublica, rei-fublic<B, res^iiblicm, rerum- 
 ■publicarum, and so forth, in Latin, we have ic sylf 
 min sylfes, we sylfe, ure sylfra, in Anglo-Saxon ; the 
 third person being, in the singular, — nom. he sylf 
 gen. his sylfes, dat. him sylfum, ace. hine sylfne, 
 and in the plural, — nom. hi sylfe, gen. Mr a sylfra, 
 dat. him sylfum, or heom sylf um, ace. hi sylfe. 
 But by the process of phonetic degradation these 
 double-case inflections were broken down, and a 
 compound emphatic pronoun was formed, not from 
 either the nominative case or the accusative, but 
 
 i 
 
 and conclusions in regard to it, acknowledging, at the same time, my indebtedness to 
 the works of Koch, M'atzner, Grein, and other German scholars." 
 
 I am thus led to believe that my own solution of this question is the first that was 
 given. For what Mr. Davidson does not know of philological literature can be hardly 
 worth knowing ; and I refer to his article, not to imply that he took any hint from 
 mine (than which hardly any supposition could be more presumptuous), but to claim 
 for the latter the support of a judgement formed by his acumen and research, and rest- 
 ing on the labors of the learned German philologists whom he mentions, and with 
 whose works I am unacquainted. 
 
FORMATION OF PRONOUNS. 249 
 
 from the dative or the genitive ; the result being, 
 not /self weselves, he-self, theyselves, etc., but 
 myself {me sylfum), ourselves {tire sylfrum), 
 himself {himsylfum) , themselves {heom sylfum), 
 and so forth. In Middle English we find such 
 mixed forms as ichsilf and mesilf thusilf and 
 thesilf, in use at the same period. But very soon 
 afterward we find the modern form (which is inca- 
 pable of a possessive case — we cannot say my- 
 self s, himself s) fully established. 
 
 Thus, in the romance of Sir Perceval of Galles, 
 about A. D. 1350: — 
 
 " Sone thou hast takyne thy rede 
 To do thiselfe to the dede." 
 
 " His stede es in stable sett 
 And hymselfe to the haulle fett." 
 
 " The sowdane sayse he will her ta, 
 The lady wille hir-selfe sla, 
 Are he that is her maste fa [i. e., greatest foe] 
 Solde wedd hir to wyfe." 
 
 " Ane unwyse man, he sayd, am I 
 That puttis my self e to siche a foly." 
 
 What determined the selection of the case form 
 for preservation can only be conjectured. It may 
 have been accident ; but mere accident has little 
 influence upon the course of language; and the 
 notion that self expressed an identity possessed by 
 or pertaining to the subject of the pronoun may have 
 led to the choice of the genitive or the dative case, 
 and this selection may have been helped by con- 
 siderations of euphony, or ease of utterance. 
 
 The vulgar use of hisself as, for example, Sam 
 was a-cleanin of his-self, springs from the notion 
 of the substantive character of self and is not an 
 
25O WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 error that illiterate people have fallen into, but a 
 remnant of an old usage ; educated people, as well 
 as the uneducated, having very early framed their 
 speech upon this notion. Thus in Bishop Bale's 
 w English Votaries : " " But Marianus sayth she 
 was a presbyteresse, or a prieste's leman, to save 
 the honour of that ordre, by cause he was a monk his 
 selfe" (fol. 91, ed. 1560, et -passim) ; and Tyndale 
 in his version of the Bible has (Job xxii. 24), " Yee 
 the Allmightie his own selfe shall be thy harvest." 
 I have called this use of the pronoun an idiom of 
 our language ; but it has a parallel in the French 
 use of moi, toi, and lui. The French do not say 
 je meme, tu meme, il mime, but moi meme, tot 
 mime, lui meme, in which the pronouns are dative 
 forms, the remnants of the Latin mihi, tibi, and tilt. 
 But in old French the nominative was used. I 
 have carefully examined early French chansons and 
 romans, including the Chanson de Roland and the 
 Roman de Tristan, and have found not a single 
 instance of moi, tot, or lui used other than objec- 
 tively, and generally after a preposition. The 
 modern Frenchman says ni moi: his forefathers, 
 eight hundred years ago, said ne io, where the pro- 
 noun is a degraded form of ego, which became/0, 
 and finally je; so that, according to correct lineal 
 descent, the modern French should be ni je. 
 Louis XIV. said, Uetat, dest moi ; Hugh Capet, 
 would have said, est jo ; as the King of Spain still 
 signs himself, grandly, To el Rey. And I am in- 
 clined to the opinion that in the phrase, not entirely 
 vulgar, It is me, which Dean Alford has defended 
 on insufficient grounds, and Mr. Moon has at- 
 
SOME. 251 
 
 tacked without sufficient knowledge, the pronoun 
 is not a misused accusative, but, as in the exactly 
 correspondent French phrase, a remnant of the 
 dative case of the pronoun of the first person (A. S. 
 7c), which held its place in English even as late 
 as the thirteenth century, and that it is me might 
 be traced down stssp by step from the earliest stages 
 of our language. 
 
 We find, then, that himself and themselves are 
 not objective or accusative forms, but remnants of 
 a dative form, which, by phonetic degradation, have 
 become, so to speak, the nominative cases of inde- 
 clinable emphatic pronouns of the third person. So 
 herself is not possessive, but a like remnant of a 
 dative form. Itself, notably, is not possessive, not 
 a compound of its and self, it having been used 
 for centuries before the appearance- of its in the lan- 
 guage. And until a very late period, after A. D. 
 1600, it was written separately, it self We do use 
 self with a possessive, as "Cassar's self; " and our 
 Anglo-Saxon forefathers joined it to proper names, 
 as Petras sylf Crist sylf But here I must stop, 
 not only to avoid prolixity, but because the etymol- 
 ogy and relations of self is one of the most difficult 
 and least understood subjects in the history of our 
 language. 
 
 SOME. 
 
 Several correspondents have asked me, in the 
 words of one of them, "not to forget the word 
 that is more misused than any other in our lan- 
 guage — some. Thus," my correspondent contin- 
 ues, " people say (writers as well as speakers) 
 
252 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 there were some six or seven hundred persons pres- 
 ent, there are some ninety vessels, when they mean 
 about, or when some is entirely superfluous." This 
 use of the word has also been recently denounced 
 by some British writers on language, who, how- 
 ever, have given no good reasons for their objec- 
 tions, although one of them calls attention to the 
 fact that some of our best writers are using the 
 word carelessly. Let us look a little into the his- 
 tory and the radical signification of this word, and 
 trace this use of it. 
 
 We hear all around us, among well-educated 
 people of good English stock, but who give them- 
 selves no care about their use of words, speaking 
 their mother tongue merely as they have learned 
 it from the mouths of their kinsfolk and acquaint- 
 ance, such phrases as some three or four, some 
 few. Oliver Wendell Holmes, whose English, as 
 well as whose thought, merits the attention and ad- 
 miration of his readers, says " some fifty" in a pas- 
 sage in " The Guardian Angel." Thackeray, 
 in one of his lectures on the Queen Anne Wits, has 
 this passage : — 
 
 "And some five miles on the road, as the Exeter fly comes 
 jingling and creaking onwards, it will suddenly be brought to a 
 halt by a gentleman on a gray mare," etc., etc. 
 
 Prior closes his epigram on " Phillis's Age " with 
 the line — 
 
 "And Phyllis is some forty-three." 
 
 Bacon is quoted by Dr. Johnson (not upon this 
 point, however) as using not only the phrase " some 
 two thousand," but "some good distance," "some 
 
SOME. 253 
 
 good while;" and Raleigh, in one of his letters, 
 has the following passage : — 
 
 "Being encountered with a strong storm some eight leagues 
 to the westward of Sicily, I held it office of a commander to take 
 a port." 
 
 Shakespeare, in "Richard III.," writes, — 
 
 "Has she forgot already that brave prince, 
 Edward her lord, whom I, some three months since, 
 Stabbed in my angry mood at Tewksbury?" 
 
 and in "Twelfth Night," — 
 
 " Some four or five attend on him : 
 All, if you will." 
 
 If a man sin against the English language by 
 using some in the manner in question, he will do it 
 in very good company ; and is it not better to sin 
 with the elect than to be righteous with the repro- 
 bate? But in the determination of such a question 
 as this we must not defer to mere usage. I repeat 
 that there is a misuse of language which can be 
 justified by no authority. 
 
 Some is one of the oldest simple, underived, un- 
 compounded, and unmodified words in the English 
 language, in the Anglo-Saxon part of which it can 
 be traced without change, as som or sum, generally 
 the latter, for a thousand years. Its meaning dur- 
 ing that whole period seems not to have been 
 enlarged, diminished, or inflected, in the slightest 
 degree, in either popular or literary usage. That 
 meaning is — an indeterminate quantity or number, 
 greater or less, considered apart from the whole 
 existing number. Some is separative ; it implies 
 others, and contrasts with all. It is segregative, 
 and sets apart, either a number, though indefinite, 
 from another and generally a larger number, or an 
 
254 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 individual person or thing not definite. It corre- 
 sponds not only to the Latin aliquantum, but to 
 quidem and aliquis, and to circiter. Such has been 
 its usage always in English and in Anglo- Saxon. 
 Let us, for instance, examine the passage in the 
 Gospels about the centurion and his sick servant. 
 It begins in the modern version (Luke vii. 2), 
 " And a certain centurion's servant, who was dear 
 unto him, was sick." But in Wicliffe's English 
 version, made about A. D. 1385, we find, "Sothli, 
 a servant of sum man centurio hauying yvel." In 
 the Anglo-Saxon version, made about A. D. 995, it 
 is, " Da wass sumes hundred mannes ]?eowa untrum." 
 Again, in the same Gospel (ix. 19) , " Others say that 
 one of the old prophets is risen again ;" which, in 
 the Anglo-Saxon version, is "Surae baet sum witega 
 of bam ealdum aras." Here the Greek word trans- 
 lated some is ng, which the Vulgate renders qui- 
 dam ; and the meaning is, clearly enough, an 
 indefinite individual of a certain class. But the 
 word may be used to set apart indefinitely two, or 
 five, or fifty individuals, as well as one. We may 
 say, a certain five, or a certain fifty, as well as a 
 certain one ; and so, some five or some fifty. And 
 such, we find, was the very best and oldest Anglo- 
 Saxon usage. King Alfred, first in scholarship as 
 well as in the state, and the writer of the purest 
 Anglo-Saxon that has come dow r n to us, translated, 
 from the Latin, Bede's account of Caedmon, the 
 Anglo-Saxon sacred poet, which begins (in Eng- 
 lish) thus : — 
 
 "In this abbess's minster was a certain brother (' quidam j 'ra- 
 ter') notably glorified and honored with a divine gift," etc. 
 
SOME. 255 
 
 This Alfred renders thus : — 
 
 " On pisse abbuddissan mynstre wses sum broSor synderlice 
 mid godcunde gyfe gerasered et geweorpad." 
 
 In his translation of Boethius (I cite here from 
 Bosworth) he has the following passage : — 
 " pa woeron hi sume ten gear on pam gewinne." 
 
 That is, Then they were some ten years in the 
 war. I find, also, in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle 
 this passage, which relates to the year 605, but was 
 written about A. D. 805 : — 
 
 " paer man sloh eaccc preosta pa comon Sider pset her scoldan 
 ge biddan for Waiana here. Scromail wees gehaten hjra ealdor, 
 se aet baserst Sonou fiftiga sum" 
 
 That is, "There they slew, also, two hundred 
 priests, who came thither that they might pray for 
 the British army. Their prince was named Scro- 
 mail, at whose hands some fifty were slain." But 
 the word, in this sense of a separated, although in- 
 definite number or individual, goes far back beyond 
 the Anglo-Saxon, to the Gothic, spoken by the peo- 
 ple who broke into Dacia, and settled there in the 
 second century. They became Christians very 
 early — so early that Ulphilas, their bishop, a man 
 of preeminent learning and ability, made a transla- 
 tion of the Gospels for them about A. D. 360, which 
 exists in a superb manuscript, written in silver and 
 golden letters upon a light-purple parchment, and 
 known as the Codex Argenteus. Referring to the 
 two passages from Luke, quoted above, we find that 
 that about the centurion begins thus : — 
 
 " Himdafade pan sumis skalks siukands, swultawairbhya; " 
 
 and that about John the Baptist thus : — 
 
 "-Sumai pan patei praufetus sums |*>ize airizane ussto]?." 
 
256 WORDS AND THEIR USES, 
 
 That is, some centurion, some prophet; as we 
 might say, some one centurion or other, some two 
 or three centurions. So that the Gothic Ulphilas 
 used so?ne just as it was used by the Anglo-Saxon 
 Alfred and the English WyclifTe. Returning to the 
 Anglo-Saxon, we find that where Moses tells us, ac- 
 cording to our modern version (Genesis xlvi. 37), 
 that " all the souls of the house of Jacob which came 
 into Egypt were threescore and ten," the Anglo- 
 Saxon translator tells us that there were "some 
 seventy" of them — "seofontigra sum." Our ex- 
 amination proves, then, that this use of some, which 
 is objected to, in so many quarters, as inelegant and 
 incorrect English, conforms strictly to the meaning 
 which the word has had among speakers and the 
 best writers ever since it came out of the darkness a 
 thousand and half a thousand years ago ; that it can 
 be traced from Holmes and Thackeray, through 
 Shakespeare, and Bacon, and Wycliffe, and King 
 Alfred, to Ulphilas, the Goth, on the Dacian banks 
 of the Danube ; where, we may be sure, the Em- 
 peror Julian heard it, as, during the life of Ulphilas, 
 and before Alaric came upon the stage, he led his 
 victorious legions down that river, after his splendid 
 campaign against the Germans, which so revived 
 the somewhat tarnished lustre of the Roman arms. 
 In fact, this idiom, as well as this word, is found, 
 without variation, in the oldest Teutonic dialect 
 known to us, and is, at least, a thousand years 
 older than the modern English language, in which 
 it has been preserved, without change, both in the 
 writings of scholars and in the common speech of the 
 people. There can be. no higher authority, no better 
 
SOME. 
 
 257 
 
 reason, for any word or form of language, than that 
 it springs from a simple native germ, and is rooted 
 in the usage of fifteen hundred years. And it would 
 be difficult to find in any tongue another word or 
 phrase which has such simplicity of origin and 
 structure, and such length of authoritative usage in 
 its support, as this, which has offended the ears of 
 some half a dozen of my correspondents and some 
 three or four British critics. 
 
 It is not my purpose to enter here upon the 
 defence of good English words and phrases ; but 
 I have gone somewhat at length into the history of 
 this phrase, not only because I hoped it might be 
 interesting to my readers, but because the denuncia- 
 tion of the usage is a noteworthy example of the 
 mistakes that may be made by purists in language. 
 When a word, a phrase, or an idiom is found in use 
 both in common speech and in the writings of edu- 
 cated men, we may be almost sure that there is good 
 reason for the usage. But cultivated and well- 
 meaning people sometimes take a scunner against 
 some particular word or phrase, as we have seen 
 in this case, and they flout it pitilessly, and think 
 in their hearts that it is the great blemish upon the 
 speech of the day. 
 
 And, by the by, one of my critics, and one 
 who I fear rates my judgment and my knowledge 
 much above their desert, finds fault with my own 
 English (which I am far from setting up as an 
 example, having neither time nor inclination to 
 "Blair-up" my sentences), in that I use the phrase 
 first rate as denoting a high degree of superiority, 
 which he says " will hardly be found in that sense 
 17 
 
258 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 in serious English composition, certainly not until 
 within a comparatively recent period." This 
 brought to my mind the following passage from Sir 
 Walter Scott's "Monastery" (chapter xxviii.) : — 
 
 " The companion of Astrophel, the flower of the tilt-yard- of 
 Feliciana, had no more idea that his graces and good parts could 
 attach the love of Mysie Happer than a first-rate beauty in the 
 boxes dreams of the fatal wound which her charms may inflict 
 on some attorney's apprentice in the pit; " 
 
 and this also from Fielding's "Tom Jones" (chapter 
 
 iv.):- 
 
 " — and she was indeed a most sensible girl, and her under- 
 standing was of the first rate." 
 
 If Walter Scott, fifty years ago, and Henry 
 Fielding, a hundred and twenty-five, called beauties 
 and sensible girls first rate, surely I, in these days, 
 may, with calm indifference to consequences, so 
 call the journal in which, and the critic by whom, I 
 am reproved. But I had, of course, no thought of 
 these precedents when I wrote, and should have 
 used the phrase without scruple, even were I sure 
 that it had never been used before. Too much 
 stress is generally laid upon the authority of mere 
 previous usage, which is not at all necessary to the 
 justification of a good word or phrase. A lawyer 
 of distinction once said to me that, before a jury, he 
 had needed, and on the spur of the moment, had 
 made and used, the word juxtapose, adding that he 
 .had no business to do so, but that it was a pity that 
 there was no such word in the language, or, as he 
 said, in the dictionaries. But no man needs the 
 authority of a dictionary (even such authority as 
 dictionaries have) , or of previous usage, for such 
 
ADJECTIVES IN EN. 259 
 
 a word as juxtapose. It is involved in juxtaposi- 
 tion as much as interpose and transpose are in in- 
 terposition and transposition. The mere fact that 
 it had not been used before this occasion, or rather 
 that no maker of dictionaries had happened to 
 notice it, is of no moment whatever. Any man has 
 the right to use a word, especially a word of such 
 natural growth and so well rooted as juxtapose, for 
 the first time, else we should be poorly off for 
 language. But he must be wary and sure of his 
 ground ; for an innovator does his work at his own 
 proper peril. 
 
 ADJECTIVES IN EN. 
 
 Unless a stand is made by the writers and 
 speakers who guide the course of language (I 
 mean not only scholars and men of letters, but the 
 great mass of w r ell-educated and socially-cultivated 
 people), we shall lose entirely a certain class of 
 words — adjectives in en formed from nouns — 
 which contribute much to the usefulness and beauty 
 of our language. Threaden is hopelessly gone, 
 and, rarely needed, will be little missed. Golden, 
 brazen, leaden, leathern, wkeaten, oaten, and waxen 
 are in more or less advanced stages of departure. 
 They all appear in poetry, but are not often used 
 for the every-day needs of life, except in figurative 
 language. Most people would say, a gold candle- 
 stick, a brass faucet, a lead pipe, and so forth ; but 
 a golden harvest, a brazen face, a leaden sky. 
 The most untaught or the most eccentric person 
 would hardly say, a brass face, or a lead sky. 
 The adjective in en seems to be restricted to the 
 
260 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 expression of likeness ; whereas it was formed to 
 express substance, of course including likeness. 
 Golden, meaning made of gold, and, of course, 
 like gold, now is generally used to mean the latter 
 only ; and for the former sense the noun gold 
 is used as an adjective. This is to be deplored, not 
 only because the formation in question is one of the 
 oldest in our language, but because its loss is a real 
 impoverishment of our vocabulary, compelling us to 
 put one word to two uses, and also because we are 
 thereby deprived of what we much need — dis- 
 syllables the last syllable of which is unaccented. 
 In proportion as a language is without such words, 
 it lacks one of the chief elements of a flowing 
 rhythm, and becomes stiff and chalk-knuckled. 
 Compare the sound of a golden crown, a leaden 
 weight, a wheaten loaf, with that of a gold crown, 
 a lead weight, a wheat loaf. To a person who has 
 an ear for rhythm the former is agreeable, the 
 latter harsh and offensive. To any one the former 
 phrases are easier of utterance than the latter. 
 The adjectives in en can be saved if we will, and 
 they are well worth saving. If those who are 
 strong enough v do not stretch out their hands to 
 them, we shall soon be wearing wool clothes ; we 
 shall not know the difference between a wooden 
 house and a wood-house ; we shall be talking of 
 the North States and the South States, the East and 
 the West States ; and when we go back to the old 
 well, we shall find there, not the old oaken bucket, 
 but an oak bucket, which, in losing half its distinc- 
 tive epithet, will have lost half the association, and 
 all the beauty, of its name. In an old inventory 
 
EITHER AND NEITHER. 26 1 
 
 before me, which was made about the year 1600, 
 there are these items : " A tynnen quart, lod. ; a 
 square tynnen pot, 6d." Overbury, in his "Charac- 
 ters," writes of " pellets in eldern guns ; " Tubervile 
 of" a pair of yarnen socks." And in the "Apology 
 for the Lollards," supposed to have been written by 
 WyclifFe, is this passage, which contains a cluster 
 of adjectives in en formed from substantives, and 
 used by our forefathers five hundred years ago. 
 
 "As the hethun men hed sex kyndis of similacris clayen, 
 treen, brasun, stonun, silveren, and golden, so have lordis now 
 sex kjndis of prelatis." 
 
 It is difficult to see why silveren should have 
 been dropped, and brazen and golden retained. 
 Better return to stonen and clay en and yarnen , than 
 lose golden and its fellows. 
 
 EITHER AND NEITHER. 
 
 Either is a singular word. It expresses, and from 
 Anglo-Saxon times has expressed, in the best usage, 
 one of two and both of two. As both means two 
 taken together, so either means two considered sep- 
 arately. Thus, " On either side of the river was 
 the tree of life," means that the tree grew on both 
 sides alike; but, "Take either side of the river," 
 means that one or the other of the two sides may 
 be taken. It is well to assert this claim for ei- 
 ther, because it has been questioned by some pu- 
 rists. It is almost impossible to explain how this 
 word means both one and two, and how it can 
 yet be used without causing any confusion for in- 
 telligent people. Either, being compounded of the 
 Anglo-Saxon aeg, every, and hwa^er, which of two, 
 
262 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 and so meaning every which, or one, of two, should, 
 strictly, be used only with reference to two objects. 
 Neither, being but the negative of either, conforms 
 to like usage. But for a very long period, they, 
 particularly the latter, have been used by our best 
 writers in relation to more than two objects. For 
 example, — 
 
 "Which of them [the ancient Fathers] ever said that neither 
 kings, nor the whole clergy, nor yet all the people together are able 
 to be judges over you?" — Bishop Jewell's Apology, Part V. c. 5. 
 
 " — their main business [that of sacred writers] is to abstract 
 man from this world, and to persuade him to prefer the bare hope 
 of what he can neither hear, see, nor conceive, before all present 
 enjoyments this world can afford." — Hobbes's Liberty and Ne- 
 cessity, Epistle. 
 
 " Independent morals are to be neither Catholic, Evangelic, 
 Buddhist, nor Atheistic." — Saturday Review, October 31, 1869. 
 
 " — this new and ambitious organ attacks neither Protestants 
 like M. Guizot, Catholics like its orthodox readers, Israelites like 
 M. Rothschild, nor Atheists like M. Prudhon." — Idem. 
 
 This use of these words, although not defensible 
 on any other grounds than those of convenience and 
 custom, seems likely to prevail, and it were well 
 if no graver errors had been sanctioned by the au- 
 thority of eminent writers. Either, used separately, 
 is responded to by or, and neither by nor ; thus — 
 either this or that, neither this nor that. This rule, 
 which is absolute, is frequently violated. Some 
 people, not uneducated, seem to think that if either 
 has been preceded by a negation, it should be fol- 
 lowed by nor. They would write, for instance, a 
 passage in Bacon's " New Atlantis " thus : " We 
 never heard of any ship that had been seen to arrive 
 upon any shore of Europe; no, nor of either the 
 East nor the West Indies." But Bacon wrote, cor- 
 
EITHER AND NEITHER. 263 
 
 rectly, " nor of either the East or the West Indies." 
 The introduction of a second nor in such sentences 
 involves the use of two negatives in the same asser- 
 tion. It is like, He hadn't none. 
 
 The pronunciation of either and neither has been 
 much disputed, but, it would seem, needlessly. The 
 best usage is even more controlling in pronunciation 
 than in other departments of language ; but usage 
 itself is guided, although not constrained, by anal- 
 ogy. The analogically correct pronunciation of 
 these words is what we call the Irish one, ayther and 
 nayther ; the diphthong having the sound it has in 
 a large family of words in which the diphthong ei 
 is the emphasized vowel sound — weighty freight, 
 deign, vein, obeisance, etc. This sound, too, has 
 come down from Anglo-Saxon times, as we have 
 already seen, the word in that language being 
 cBgfer; and there can be no doubt that in this, as 
 in some other respects, the language of the educated 
 Irish Englishman is analogically correct, and in 
 conformity to ancient custom. His pronunciation 
 of certain syllables in ei which have acquired in 
 English usage the sound of e long, as, for example, 
 conceit, receive, and which he pronounces consayt, 
 resayve, is analogically and historically correct. E 
 had of old the sound of a long, and i the sound of 
 e, particularly in words which came to us from or 
 through the Norman French. But ayther and nay- 
 ther, being antiquated and Irish, analogy and the 
 best usage require the common pronunciation eether 
 and neether. For the pronunciation i-ther and ni- 
 ther, with the i long, which is sometimes heard, 
 there is no authority, either of analogy or of the 
 
264 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 best speakers. It is an affectation, and in this coun- 
 try, a copy of a second-rate British affectation. 
 Persons of the best education and the highest 
 social position in England generally say eether and 
 neether. 
 
 SHALL AND WILL. 
 
 The distinction between these words, although 
 very clear when it is once apprehended, is liable to 
 be disregarded by persons who have not had the 
 advantage of early intercourse with educated Eng- 
 lish people. I mean English in blood and breeding ; 
 for, as the traveller found that in Paris even the 
 children could speak French, so in New England it 
 is noteworthy that even the boys and girls playing 
 on the commons use shall and will correctly ; and 
 in New York, New Jersey, and Ohio, in Virginia, 
 Maryland, and South Carolina, fairly educated 
 people of English stock do the same ; while by 
 Scotchmen and Irishmen, even when they are pro- 
 fessionally men of letters, and by the great mass of 
 the people of the Western and South-western States, 
 the words are used without discrimination, or, if 
 discrimination is attempted, will is given the place 
 of shall, and vice versa. It is much to be regretted 
 that an English scholar of Mr. Marsh's eminence 
 should have expressed the opinion that the distinc- 
 tion between these words " has, at present, no logical 
 value or significance whatever," and have ventured 
 the prediction that " at no very distant day this 
 verbal quibble will disappear, and that one of the 
 auxiliaries will be employed with all persons of the 
 nominative, exclusively as the sign of the future, 
 
SHALL AND WILL. 265 
 
 and the other only as an expression of purpose or 
 authority." 
 
 The distinction between shall and will, as aux- 
 iliary verbs to be used with various persons as nom- 
 inatives, is a verbal quibble, just as any distinction 
 is a quibble to persons too ignorant, too dull, or too 
 careless for its apprehension. So, and even } T et more, 
 is the distinction between be, am, art, is, and are, a 
 quibble. All these words express exactly the same 
 thought — that of present existence. Why, there- 
 fore, should not the distinction between them, which 
 assigns them to various persons as nominative::, be 
 swept away, so that, instead of entangling ourselves 
 in the subtle intricacies of I am, thou art, he is, we 
 are, you are, they are, which are of no logical val- 
 ue or significance, we may say, with all the charm 
 and the force of simplicity, I he, thou be, he be, we 
 be, you be, they be? — as, in fact, some very worthy 
 people do, and manage to make themselves under- 
 stood. Why, indeed, should we suffer a smart 
 little verbal shock when the Irish servant says, 
 "Will I put some more coal on s the lire?" And 
 why should we be so hard-hearted as to laugh at 
 the story of the Frenchman, who, falling into the 
 water, cried out, as he was going down, " I vill 
 drown, and nobody shall help me"? But those 
 who have genuine, well-trained English tongues and 
 ears are shocked, and do laugh. The reason of 
 the distinction is regarded by most writers upon 
 language as very difficult of explanation. Essays 
 have been written upon the question ; Sir Edmund 
 Head even made a little book about it ; but no one 
 has yet traced the usage to its origin so clearly as 
 
266 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 to satisfy all philologists. Without pretending to 
 do what so many others have failed in doing, I 
 shall give the explanation that is satisfactory to 
 me. 
 
 The radical signification of will (Anglo-Saxon 
 willan) is purpose, intention, determination ; that of 
 shall (Anglo-Saxon sceal, ought) is obligation. / 
 will do means, I purpose doing — I am determined 
 to do. I shall do means, radically, I ought to do; 
 and as a man is supposed to do what he sees he 
 ought to do, / shall do came to mean, I am about 
 doing — to be, in fact, a mere announcement of 
 future action, more or less remote. But so you shall 
 do means, radically, you ought to do ; and therefore 
 unless we mean to impose an obligation or to 
 announce an action on the part of another person, 
 over whom we claim some control, shall, in speak- 
 ing of the mere future voluntary action of another 
 person, is inappropriate ; and we therefore say 
 you will, assuming that it is the volition of the 
 other person to do thus or so. Hence, in merely 
 announcing future action, we say, I or we shall, 
 you, he, or they will; and, in declaring purpose on 
 our own part, or on the part of another, obligation, 
 or inevitable action, which w r e mean to control, 
 we say, I or we will, you, he, or they shall. Offi- 
 cial orders, which are in the form you will, are but 
 a seeming exception to this rule of speech, which 
 they, in fact, illustrate. For in them the courtesy of 
 superior to subordinate, carried to the extreme even 
 in giving command, avoids the semblance of com- 
 pulsion, while it assumes obedience in its very 
 language. Should and would follow, of course, the 
 
- SHALL AND WILL. 267 
 
 fortunes of shall and will; and, in the following 
 short dialogue, I have given, I believe, easily- 
 apprehended examples of all the proper uses of 
 these words, the discrimination of which is found by 
 some persons so difficult. A husband is supposed 
 to be trying to induce his reluctant wife to go from 
 their suburban home to town for a day or two. 
 
 He. I shall go to town to-morrow. Of course you will ? 
 
 She. No, thanks. I shall not go. I shall wait for better 
 weather, if that will ever come. When shall we have three fair 
 days together again ? 
 
 He. Don't mind that. You should go- I should like to have 
 you hear Ronconi. 
 
 She. No, no ; I will not go. 
 
 He. [To himself. ~\ But you shall go, in spite of the weather 
 and of yourself. [To her.] Well, remember, if you should 
 change your mind, I should be very happy to have your com- 
 pany. Do come ; you will enjoy the opera; and you shall have 
 the nicest possible supper at Delmonico's. 
 
 She. No ; I should not enjoy the opera. There are no sing- 
 ers worth listening to ; and I wouldn't walk to the end of the 
 drive for the best supper Delmonico will ever cook. A man 
 seems to think that any human creature would do anything for 
 something good to eat. 
 
 He. Most human creatures will. 
 
 She. I shall stay at home, and you shall have your opera and 
 your supper all to yourself. 
 
 He. Well, if you will stay at home, you shall; and if you 
 won't have the supper, you shan't- But my trip will be dull 
 without you. I shall be bored to death — that is, unless, indeed, 
 your friend Mrs. Dashatt Mann should go to town to-morrow, 
 as she said she thought that she would; then, perhaps, we shall 
 meet at the opera, and she and her nieces will sup with me. 
 
 She. [To herself] My dear friend Mrs. Dashatt Mann ! And 
 so that woman will be at her old tricks with my husband again. 
 But she shall find that I am mistress of this situation, in spite 
 of her big black eyes and her big white shoulders. [To him.'] 
 John, why should you waste yourself upon those ugly, giggling 
 girls? To be sure, she's a fine woman enough; that is, if you 
 will buy your beauty by the pound ; but they ! 
 
 He. O, think what I will about that, I must take them, for 
 
268 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 politeness' sake ; and, indeed, although the lady is a matron, it 
 wouldn't be quite proper to take her alone — would it? What 
 should you say? 
 
 She. Well, not exactly, perhaps. But it don't much matter; 
 she can take care of herself, I should think. She's no chicken; 
 she'll never see thirty-five again. But it's too bad you should be 
 bored with her nieces — and since you're bent on having me go 
 with you — and — after all, I should like to hear Ronconi — and 
 — you shan't be going about with those cackling girls — well, 
 John, dear, I'll go. 
 
 The only passage in this colloquy which seems 
 to me to need a word of explanation, is that in 
 which the lady says to herself that her friend Mrs. 
 D. Mann n shall find " that some one else is mistress 
 of the situation. It would have been quite correct 
 for the wife to say " she will find," etc. But, in 
 that case, she would merely have expressed an 
 opinion as to a future occurrence. By using shall, 
 she not only predicts with emphasis, but claims the 
 power to make her prediction good. I have given 
 my readers this colloquy, because more can be 
 gained toward the proper use of these words 
 through example than from precept. It seems 
 to be instinctively apprehended — imbibed. Asso- 
 ciation and early habit cause many people, who are 
 far from being well educated, and who are entirely 
 unconscious as to their speech, to be unerring in 
 their use of this idiom, which, in my judgment, 
 is one of the finest in the language. 
 
 It is violated with conspicuous perversity in the 
 following examples. The first is from Coverdale's 
 version of the Bible : — 
 
 "And Gedeon saj'de unto God, Yf thou wilt delyuer Israel 
 thorow my hande, as thou hast saide, then wil I laye a flese of 
 woll in the courte : yf y e dew be onely upon y e flese, and dry upon 
 
SHALL AND WILL. 269 
 
 all the grounde, then wyll I perceaue that thou shall delyver 
 Israll thorow my hande, as thou hast said." — Judges vi. 
 
 Here, in the last sentence, will is used for shall, 
 and shall for wilt. Gideon meant to express merely 
 a future occurrence in both cases, and to imply 
 no will in his own case, and no obligation in God's. 
 And thus, in the King James version of the same 
 passage, we have "then shall I know that thou wilt 
 save Israel." 
 
 The next example is from a "Narrative of a 
 Grand Festival at Yarmouth," in honor of the 
 victory of Waterloo (Yarmouth, 1815). 
 
 " Every individual was requested to take his place at the table, 
 . . . and it was requested that no persons would leave their seats 
 during dinner." 
 
 Here the right word is should, as would and 
 should follow the regimen of will and shall, and we 
 request that people shall do thus or so, not that they 
 will do it. A similar error appears in the following 
 extract from an account published in the " New 
 York Tribune " of the interview between President 
 Grant and a committee of Pennsylvanians who 
 waited upon him to urge the importance of appoint- 
 ing a Pennsylvanian to a place in the Cabinet. 
 
 " They intended making no suggestions or recommendations 
 further than that if Pennsylvania was to be represented, the ap- 
 pointment xvoicld be given to a man who should be known as an 
 unflinching supporter of the Republican party." 
 
 These disinterested gentlemen meant to say, and 
 perhaps did say, that they recommended that the 
 appointment should be given to a man who would 
 be known as a thorough-going party-man. 
 
 The next passage, which is from an article in 
 
270 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 "The World " on the last change in the British 
 embassy at Washington, contains an example of a 
 monstrous misuse of will. 
 
 " Mr. Thornton was without any suite, as it is intended that 
 the staff or legation formerly attached to Sir Frederick Bruce 
 will act under the orders of Mr. Thornton until further news 
 from the Foreign Office." 
 
 Without doubt, the writer meant that it is intended 
 that the staff shall act, etc. The intention was to 
 lay a future obligation upon the members of the 
 legation. We cannot intend what others will do. 
 
 Another New York journalist, not improbably an 
 Irishman, exclaims, as these pages are in prepara- 
 tion for the press, — 
 
 " When will we get through with the everlasting, tedious, un- 
 profitable, and demoralizing Byron controversy?" 
 
 He meant, When shall we get through with it? 
 
 There is a fine use of shall, the force of which 
 escapes some intelligent and cultivated readers. 
 An example is found in the following passage from 
 a number of " The Spectator," written by Addison : 
 " There is not a girl in town, but, let her have her 
 will in going to a mask, and she shall dress like a 
 shepherdess." Upon this even the acute and gen- 
 erally sound Crombie remarks in his " Etymology 
 and Syntax of the English Language " (p. 398, 
 ed. 1830), "It should be 'she will. 9 The author 
 intended to signify »mere futurity ; instead of which 
 he has expressed a command." But mere futurity 
 w 7 as not what Addison meant to express, nor did he 
 express a command. He meant to assert strongly ; 
 and therefore, instead of the word will, w r hich with 
 the third person predicates simple futurity, he used 
 
SHALL AND WILL. 27 1 
 
 shall, which implies more or less of obligation, — 
 here a propensity so strong as to control action. 
 So in the Urquhart translation of Rabelais, a mas- 
 terpiece of idiomatic English, we find (Book I. 
 c. 17), *' A blind fiddler shall draw a greater conflu- 
 ence together than an evangelical preacher." So 
 Dr. Johnson says, in the Preface to his Dictionary, 
 that it should be considered, — 
 
 " — that sudden fits of inadvertency will surprise vigilance, 
 slight avocations will seduce attention, and casual ellipses of the 
 mind will darken learning; and that the writer shall often in 
 vain trace his memory at the moment of need for that which 
 yesterday he knew with intuitive readiness, and which will come 
 uncalled into his thoughts to-morrow." 
 
 Here will is used in three clauses, and shall va. 
 one, to express the same relation of time in the third 
 person ; but the latter clause would lose much of its 
 significance if will were to take in it the place of 
 shall. And in the prophecy of Isaiah, " He shall feed 
 his flock like a shepherd . . . and shall gently lead 
 all those that are with young," how much of its 
 grandeur, as well as of its power of assurance, would 
 be lost, if will were substituted for shall I Bishop 
 Jewell nicely discriminates (but intuitively, we may 
 be sure) between shall and will thus used, in the 
 following passage in one of his sermons : — 
 
 " Let us turne to him with an upright heart. So shal he turne 
 to us ; so shal we walke as the children of light ; so shall we 
 shine as the sunne in the kingdome of our father; so shall God 
 be our God, and will abide with us forever." — Ed. 1583, fol. q. iii. 
 
 An example of this distinction, unsurpassed in 
 delicacy and exactness, and consequent effect, is 
 found in the following passage, — my memorandum 
 of the source of which is unfortunately lost, — and 
 
272 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 which refers to the assassination of President Lin- 
 coln : — 
 
 " It justly fastened itself upon the rebellion, and demanded 
 new and severer punishment of the rebels, instead of the mag- 
 nanimous reconciliation which the beloved president, of whom 
 it had been bereaved, had recommended. Who will say that this 
 sentiment was unnatural? Who shall say that it is even unjust?" 
 
 Here, again, will and shall are used to express the 
 same time in regard to like actions of the same per- 
 son. Will might have been used correctly in the lat- 
 ter question as it was in the former ; but some force 
 would thereby have been lost. Shall could not 
 have been used with the same fine effect in both 
 questions. Will having been used, shall intensifies 
 the query. It is as if the questions were, Who can 
 say that this sentiment was unnatural? Who could 
 venture to say that it is even unjust? But we may 
 be sure that no conscious, careful selection of these 
 words was made in this case. And we may be 
 even surer of the unconsciousness with which the 
 following passage was written, in a letter from a 
 lady to a friend from whom she had been alienated, 
 and who sent her a present which she felt some 
 delicacy in accepting. The subject is common- 
 place, and the writer expresses in the simplest lan- 
 guage a feeling natural, yet not too common. But 
 the passage is so remarkable for its free yet nicely 
 correct use of idiom, that I am sure the writer, as 
 well as the friend to whom I am indebted for a sight 
 of it, will pardon its appearance here. In the last 
 sentence, the use of may, instead of will, which 
 would have been quite proper, shows a delicate in- 
 stinct in the use of language, which, as I have said 
 
SHALL AND WILL. 2'/ 3 
 
 before, is characteristic of the epistolary style of 
 intelligent and cultivated women. 
 
 "I thank you sincerely for still thinking of me, and I will 
 keep it just as it is until I hear from you again. If you are 
 willing to become friends with me once more, I shall only be 
 too happy. I will accept it as a seal on the renewal of our 
 friendship. If not, then I will return it and what you gave me 
 before we parted. Perhaps, after you have read this letter to 
 the end, you may not wish to continue our acquaintance; if 
 
 not, I shall come back to , and will keep my engagements 
 
 there, and then go home." 
 
 Such a mastery of idiom belongs only to persons 
 who, having grown up among those who use lan- 
 guage correctly, have themselves a delicate and sure 
 sense of the various significance of words. It is not 
 so common even among the educated as to be taken 
 as a matter of course : for instance, see the following 
 note, printed from the original, which was written 
 by a distinguished member of one of the learned 
 professions in New York : — 
 
 " I enclose to you a document which your interest in Sanitary 
 matters will doubtless induce an appreciation of the views there- 
 in expressed." 
 
 " I should feel very obligatory to you if you could find a good 
 
 appointment for my son , to enable him to procure a free 
 
 living for himself and his family, having a wife and 2 children. 
 He is intelligent, industrious, and perfectly reliable, and would 
 devote all the time required for the necessary duty." 
 
 Of the authors of these two specimens of letter 
 writing, the lady is not, I believe, highly educated, 
 and her intellectual pretensions, should she make 
 any, would be scouted by the gentleman ; but she 
 could no more fall into his blundering style and in- 
 correct use of words than he could write or speak 
 with her simple clearness and unaffected grace. 
 18 
 
274 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 GRAMMAR, ENGLISH AND LATIN. 
 
 THE first punishment I remember having re- 
 ceived was for a failure to get a lesson in 
 English grammar. I recollect, with a half painful, 
 half amusing distinctness, all the little incidents of 
 the dreadful scene ; how I found myself standing in 
 an upper chamber of a gloomy brick house, book in 
 h^nd, — it was a thin volume, with a tea-green pa- 
 per cover and a red roan back, — before an awful 
 being, who put questions to me, which, for all that I 
 could understand of them, might as well have been 
 couched in Coptic or in Sanskrit ; how, when 
 asked about governing, I answered, " I don't know," 
 and when about agreeing, "I can't tell," until at 
 last, in despair, I said nothing, and choked down 
 my tears, wondering, in a dazed, dumb fashion, 
 whether all this was part and parcel of that total 
 depravity of the human heart of which I heard 
 so much ; how then the being — to whom I apply 
 no epithet, for, poor creature, he thought he was 
 doing God service — said to me, in a terrible voice, 
 " You are a stupid, idle boy, sir, and have neglected 
 your task. I shall punish you. Hold out your 
 hand." I put it out half way, like a machine with 
 
GRAMMAR, ENGLISH AND LATIN. 275 
 
 a hitch in its gearing. " Farther, sir." I advanced 
 it an inch or two, when he seized the tips of my 
 fingers, bent them back so as to throw the palm 
 well up, and then, with a mahogany rule, much 
 bevelled on one side, and having a large, malig- 
 nant ink-spot near the end, — an instrument which 
 seemed to me to weigh about forty pounds, and to 
 be a fit implement for a part of that eternal torture 
 to which I had been led to believe that I, for my 
 inborn depravity, was doomed, — he proceeded to 
 reduce my little hand, only just well in gristle, as 
 nearly to a jelly as was thought, on the whole, to 
 be beneficial to a small boy at that stage of the 
 world's progress. 
 
 The carefully-filed and still preserved receipts of 
 a methodically managed household enable me to 
 tell the age at which I w T as thus awakened to the 
 sweet and alluring beauties of English grammar. 
 I was just five and a half years old when one Al- 
 fred Ely — may his soul rest in peace ! — thus gently 
 guided my tottering and reluctant steps into the 
 paths of humane learning. Fortunately, my father, 
 when outside the pale of religious dogma, was a 
 man of sound sense and a tender heart; and as 
 there was nothing about English accidence either 
 in the Decalogue or the Common Prayer-Book, he 
 sent a message to the schoolmaster, which caused 
 that to be my last lesson in what is called the gram- 
 mar of my mother tongue. I was soon after re- 
 moved to a school the excellence of which I have 
 only within a few years fully appreciated, although, 
 as a boy, I knew that there I was happy, and felt 
 
2^6 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 as if I were not quite stupid, idle, and depraved.* 
 Thereafter I studied English, indeed, but only in 
 the works of its great masters, and unconsciously 
 in the speech of daily companions, who spoke it 
 with remarkable but spontaneous excellence. 
 
 My kind and courteous readers will pardon, I 
 hope, this reminiscence, in which I have indulged 
 myself only because in some of the comments, pri- 
 vate as well as public, which have been made upon 
 these chapters in their original form, I have seen 
 myself called a grammarian. God forbid that I 
 should be anything of the sort ! That I am un- 
 versed in the rules of English grammar (so called), 
 I am not ashamed to confess ; for special ignorance 
 is no reproach when unaccompanied with presump- 
 tion. -And that in which I confess that I have no 
 skill, I have not undertaken to teach. That task I 
 leave to those who are capable of the subject, and 
 who feel its necessity. 
 
 If grammar is what it has been defined as being, 
 the science which has for its object the laws which 
 regulate language, the remarks just made cannot 
 be justified ; for, in that sense, grammar is as much 
 concerned with words by themselves, with their 
 signification and their origin, and with their right- 
 ful use in those regards, as with their relations to 
 each other in the sentence ; and it is in that sense 
 but another name for the science of language — phi- 
 
 * Let me mention with respect and love, which have grown with my years, the 
 names of my two teachers, Theodore Eames and Samuel Putnam, to whom I owe all 
 that I could be taught at school before I left them for college. I know that should 
 any one of my fellow-pupils chance to see these lines, he will declare with me that the 
 boy who could remain even a year under their hands without profit in mind, morals, 
 r.nd manners, must indeed have given himself up to original sin. 
 
GRAMMAR, ENGLISH AND LATIN. 277 
 
 lology. But, notwithstanding that definition, and 
 its acceptance by some grammarians and some com- 
 pilers of dictionaries, such is not the sense in which 
 the word gra7nmar is generally used. Nor can the 
 position which I have taken be maintained, if gram- 
 mar is regarded as the science of the rightful or 
 reasonable expression of thought by language ; for 
 grammar extended to these wide limits would in- 
 clude logic and rhetoric. But grammar, in its 
 usual sense, is the art of speaking and writing a 
 language correctly ; in which definition, the word 
 correctly means, in accordance with laws founded 
 upon the relations, not of thoughts, but of words, 
 and determined by verbal forms. It is this formal, 
 constructive grammar which seems to me almost 
 if not entirely superfluous in regard to the English 
 language. Long ago, before any attempt had 
 been made to write its grammar, that language had 
 worked itself nearly free from those verbal forms 
 which control the construction of the sentence, and 
 therefore free in the same degree from the needs 
 and the control of formal, constructive crrammar. 
 And, notably, it was not until English had cast 
 itself firmly and sharply into its present simple 
 mould that scholars undertook to furnish it with a 
 grammar, the nomenclature and the rules of which 
 they took from a language — the Latin — with 
 which it had no formal affinity, to which it had no 
 formal likeness, and by the laws of which it could 
 not be bound, except so far as they were the uni- 
 versal laws of human thought. Allusions to gram- 
 mar and to its importance as a part of education 
 abound in our early literature. In a rhyming ex- 
 
278 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 hortation to a child, written in the fifteenth century, 
 these lines occur : — 
 
 "My lefe chyld I kownsel ye 
 To furme thi vj tens, thou awyse ye; 
 And have mind of thy clensoune 
 Both of nowne and of pronowne, 
 And ilk case in plurele 
 How thai sal end, awyse the wele; 
 And thi participyls forgete thou nowth, 
 And thi comparisons be yn thi thowth; 
 Thynk of the revele of the relatyfe ; 
 And then schalle thou the better thryfe ; 
 And how a verbe schalle be furmede, 
 Take gode hede that thou be not stunnede ; 
 The ablatyfe case thou hafe in mynd, 
 That he be saved in hys kynd ; 
 Take gode hede qwat he wylle do. 
 And how a nowne substantyfe 
 Wylle corde with a verbe and a relatyfe, 
 Posculo, ■posco, $eto. 
 
 ReliquicB Antiques, II. 14. 
 
 But, as appears on its face, this exhortation refers 
 not to English, but to Latin grammar, which was the 
 only' grammar taught or thought of at the time when 
 it was written. That was the day of the establish- 
 ing and endowing of grammar schools in Eng- 
 land ; but the grammar taught in them was the 
 Latin, and afterward a little of the Greek. Chau- 
 cer and WyclifFe had written, but in English gram- 
 mar schools no man thought of teaching English. 
 When, at last, it dawned upon the pedagogues that 
 English was a language, or rather, in their signifi- 
 cant phrase, a vulgar tongue, and they set themselves 
 to giving rules for the art of writing and speaking 
 it correctly, they attempted to form these rules upon 
 the models furnished by the Latin language. And 
 what wonder? for those were the only rules they 
 
GRAMMAR, ENGLISH AND LATIN. 279 
 
 knew. But the construction of the English lan- 
 guage was even less like that of the Latin than 
 English words were like Latin words. From this 
 heterogeneous union sprang that hybrid monster 
 known as English grammar, before whose fruitless 
 loins we have sacrificed, for nearly three hundred 
 years, our children and the strangers within our 
 gates. 
 
 Of grammar, the essential parts, if not the whole, 
 are etymology and syntax. For orthography re- 
 lates to the mere arrangement of letters for the 
 arbitrary representation of certain sounds, and pros- 
 ody to the aesthetic use of language. And, if 
 prosody is a part of grammar, why should the latter 
 not include rhetoric, and even elocution? In fact, 
 grammar was long regarded as including all that 
 concerns the structure and the relations of language ; 
 and a grammarian among the ancients was one who 
 w^as versed, not only in language, but in poetry, 
 history, and rhetoric, and who, generally, lectured 
 or wrote upon all those branches of literature. But 
 it seems to me that in the usage of intelligent peo- 
 ple the English word grammar relates only to the 
 laws which govern the significant forms of words, 
 and the construction of the sentence. Thus, if we 
 find extraordinary spelled igstrawnery -, or hear 
 suggest pronounced sujjest, we do not call these 
 lapses false grammar ; but if we hear, " She was 
 Msn, but he wasn't hern" which violates true ety- 
 mology, or, " He done it good" which is incorrect 
 syntax, these we do call false grammar. 
 
 Etymology, which relates to the significant forms 
 of words, and syntax, the rules of which govern 
 
28o WORDS AND THEIR. USES. 
 
 their arrangement, are, then, from our point of view, 
 the great essentials, if not the whole, of grammar. 
 Now, the principal Latin words, the noun, the ad- 
 jective, the verb, the participle, and the adverb, vary 
 their forms by a process called inflection, and the 
 Latin sentence is constructed upon the basis of those 
 significant verbal forms. English words do not 
 vary their forms by inflection, and the English sen- 
 tence is constructed without any dependence upon 
 verbal forms. To this remark there are exceptions ; 
 but they are so few, and of such small importance, 
 that they cannot be regarded as affecting its general 
 truth. The structure of the Latin sentence depends 
 upon the relation of the words of which it is com- 
 posed ; that of the English sentence, upon the rela- 
 tion of the thoughts it expresses. In other words, 
 the construction of the Latin sentence is grammati- 
 cal, that of the English sentence, logical. At the 
 first offshooting of the English language from its 
 parent stem, its growth and development began at 
 once to tend toward logical simplicity — in fact, that 
 tendency was its offshooting ; and since then it has 
 gradually, but surely and steadily, cast off inflec- 
 tional forms, and freed itself from the trammels of 
 a construction dependent upon them. This being 
 true, how preposterous, how impossible, for us to 
 measure our English corn in Latin bushels ! Yet 
 that is what we have so long been trying to do with 
 our English grammar. 
 
 In illustration of the foregoing remarks, I will 
 present and compare some examples of Latin and 
 English words and sentences, the former of which 
 shall be so simple that they can hardly escape the 
 
GRAMMAR, ENGLISH AND LATIN. 28 1 
 
 apprehension even of those who have not received 
 the training of a grammar school. 
 
 The Latin for boy is fiuer. But fiuer stands for 
 boy only as the subject of a sentence. When the 
 boy spoken of is the object of an action, he is repre- 
 sented by an inflection o( jbuer — the \noy& fuerum. 
 Boys as the subjects of an action are called -pu- 
 eri, but as the objects, -pueros. 
 
 The Latin for girl is pttella, as the subject of a 
 verb, but when the girl is the object of the action, she 
 is not represented in that relation by changing -pnella 
 into -piicHum, as -piier was made -piierum^ but the 
 word -puella, being feminine, becomes -fiiiellam. In 
 the plural it becomes, not -puelli as the subject, and 
 pnellos as the object, of an action, but -puellce and 
 -paellas^ those being feminine inflections. 
 
 Loved is amabam, if you wish to say, I loved ; 
 but if he or she loved, amabat ; if they loved, ama- 
 bant. Any of my readers will now be able to trans- 
 late this little sentence : — 
 
 Pueri amabant puellam. 
 
 There being no article in the Latin, it of course 
 must be supplied, and we therefore have, — 
 
 The bojs loved the girl. 
 
 In this Latin sentence, and in its English equiva- 
 lent, the words not only represent each other per- 
 fectty in "sense, but correspond exactly in place. If, 
 however, we change the relative positions of the 
 English nouns, without modifying them in the least, 
 we not only change, but entirely reverse the mean- 
 ing of the sentence. 
 
 The girl loved the boys. 
 
 But in the Latin sentence we may make what 
 
202 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 changes of position we please, and we shall not 
 make a shade of difference in its meaning. 
 
 Puellam amabant pueri, 
 Puellam pueri amabant, 
 Pueri amabant puellam, 
 Pueri puellam amabant, 
 
 all have the same meaning — the boys loved the girl. 
 For puellam shows by its form that it must be the 
 object of the action ; amabant must have for its 
 subject a plural substantive, and which must there- 
 fore be, not puellam, but -pueri. The connections 
 of the words being therefore absolutely determined 
 by their forms, their position in the sentence is a 
 matter at least of minor importance. The reader 
 who has not learned Latin will yet, by referring to 
 a preceding paragraph, have little difficulty in con- 
 structing a Latin sentence, which represents the 
 reverse of our first example ; t. e., the girl loved the 
 boys. For in that the girl is the subject, and the 
 boys are the objects of the action, and the verb 
 must have its singular form, which gives us 
 
 Puella amabat pueros. 
 
 In the corresponding English sentence, the words 
 are exactly the same as those in the sentence of 
 exactly opposite meaning ; in the Latin they are 
 all different. And again, their position has no 
 effect on the meaning of the sentence; for these 
 words, whether given as above in the order, the 
 girl loved the boys, or in the more elegant order, 
 
 Puella pueros amabat 
 [The girl the boys loved], 
 or, 
 
 Pueros amabat puella 
 [The boys loved the girl], 
 
GRAMMAR, ENGLISH AND LATIN. 283 
 
 can have but one construction, and therefore but 
 one meaning ; i. e., the girl loved the boys. 
 
 If we extend the sentence by qualifying either 
 the subject or the object, or both, the operation of 
 this rule of construction will be more striking. 
 Let the qualification be goodness. The Latin for 
 good is bonus; but in this form the word qualifies 
 only a subject of the singular number and mascu- 
 line gender ; singular feminine and neuter subjects 
 are qualified as good by the forms bona and bonum. 
 A singular feminine object is qualified as good by 
 bonam ; a plural masculine subject by boni, a 
 plural masculine object by bonos. If, therefore, we 
 wish to say that the boys were good, the sentence 
 becomes 
 
 Boni pueri amabant puellam, 
 The good boys loved the girl. 
 
 By merely changing the position of the adjective 
 in the English sentence, we say, not that the boys 
 were good, but the girl : 
 
 The boys loved the good girl. 
 
 But a corresponding arrangement of the Latin 
 words 
 
 Pueri amabant boni puellam, 
 
 means still that the boys were good, and the girl 
 was loved ; because boni, from its form, can qualify 
 only a plural masculine subject — here -pueri. If 
 we wish to say that the girl was good, we must use 
 the form of bonus which belongs to a singular 
 feminine object, and write bonam -puellam. Then, 
 wherever we put bonam, it will qualify only puellam. 
 Thus, in the sentence, 
 
 Bonam puellam amabant pueri, 
 
284 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 the order of the words, represented in English, is 
 
 The good girl loved the bojs : 
 
 but the meaning is, the boys loved the good girl. 
 It is not even necessary, in Latin, that the adjective 
 and the noun which it qualifies should be kept 
 together. Thus, in the sentence, 
 
 Puella bonos amabat pueros, 
 
 the order of the words, represented in English, is 
 
 The girl good loved the boys ; 
 
 and in this arrangement, 
 
 Pueros amabat bonos puella, 
 
 the order is, 
 
 The bojs loved the good girl ; 
 
 but the meaning in both is the same, and is quite 
 unlike that conveyed by the English arrange- 
 ment — The girl loved the good boys. 
 
 The reason of this fixed relation is simply that 
 bonos, whatever its place in this sentence, qualifies 
 pueros only, as appears by the number, gender, 
 and case of each, which are shown by their respec- 
 tive and agreeing forms ; that -pueros must be an 
 object of action, which is shown by its form; and 
 that puella and amabat are subject and predicate, 
 pertaining to each other, which is also shown 
 by their forms. Bonos cannot belong to puella, 
 because the former is masculine plural, and belongs 
 to an object ; and puella is feminine singular, and a 
 subject ; pueros cannot be the subject of amabat, 
 because the former is plural in its inflection, and the 
 latter singular. In Juvenal's noble saying, Maxima 
 debet ur puero revereniia, The greatest reverence 
 is due to a boy, the order of the words is this : 
 
GRAMMAR, ENGLISH AND LATIN. 28 
 
 greatest is owed to a boy reverence ; and there 
 is nothing in this order to preclude the application 
 of the word meaning greatest to the word meaning 
 boy, which would give us, Reverence is due to the 
 biggest boy. But in Juvenal's sentence, the Latin 
 word for boy has the dative inflection, which shows 
 that the boy is the recipient of something, and 
 is the object of the verb debetur ; it is also mascu- 
 line ; and as maxima agrees in case and in gender 
 with reverentia, the feminine subject of the verb, it 
 must qualify that word. 
 
 If we should find the following collocation of 
 words, "Thy now doings of my of mistress with 
 weeping swollen redden pretty eyes," we should 
 pronounce it nonsense. It is not even a sentence. 
 And yet it is a translation of the beautiful lines, in 
 the order of their words, with which Catullus closes 
 his charming ode, "Funus Passeris." 
 
 " Tua nunc opera meee pullae 
 Flendo turgiduli rubent ocelli." 
 
 And the words, reduced to their logical or English 
 order, are, Now the pretty swollen eyes of my 
 mistress redden with weeping thy doings. The 
 Latin arrangement is as if we were presented with 
 the figures 819457263, and were expected to read 
 them, not eight hundred and nineteen million four 
 hundred fifty-seven thousand two hundred and 
 sixty-three, but one hundred twenty-three million 
 four hundred fifty-six thousand seven hundred and 
 eighty -nine ; the order 123456789 being indicated 
 by some peculiar and correspondent form of the 
 characters known only to the initiated. 
 
286 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 Enough has been said in illustration of the differ- 
 ence between the construction of the Latin and that 
 of the English sentence. The former depends 
 upon the inflectional forms of the words ; and its 
 sense is not affected, or is affected only in a secon- 
 dary degree, by their relative positions. In the 
 latter, the meaning of the sentence is determined 
 by the relative positions of the words, their order 
 being determined by the connection and inter- 
 dependence of the thoughts of which they are the 
 signs. Syntax, guided by etymology, controls the 
 Latin ; reason, the English. In brief, the former is 
 grammatical ; the latter, logical. English admits 
 very rarely, and only in a very slight degree, 
 that severance of words representing connected 
 thoughts which is not only admissible, but which is 
 generally found in the Latin sentence ; of which 
 structural form the foregoing examples are of the 
 simplest sort, and are the most easily resolvable into 
 logical order. 
 
 Milton is justly regarded as the English poet 
 whose style is most affected by Latin models ; and 
 the opening passage of his great poem ii often cited 
 as a strongly-marked example of involved construc- 
 tion. But let us examine it briefly. 
 
 " Of man's first disobedience [and the fruit 
 Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste 
 Brought death into the world, and all our woe, 
 With loss of Eden, till one greater Man 
 Restore us, and regain the blissful seat], 
 Sing, heavenly muse [that on the secret top 
 Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire 
 That shepherd who first taught the chosen seed 
 In the beginning how the heavens and earth 
 Rose out of chaos]." 
 
GRAMMAR, ENGLISH AND LATIN. 287 
 
 This, certainly, is not the colloquial style, or even 
 the high dramatic. How many young people, 
 when called upon to " parse " it, have sat before it 
 in dumb bewilderment ! And yet its apparent 
 intricacy is but the result of a single, and not 
 violent, inversion. In all other respects the words 
 succeed each other merely as the thoughts which 
 they represent arise. The natural order of the 
 passage is, Sing, heavenly muse, of man's first 
 disobedience ; and that simple invocation is the 
 essential part of the sentence. What follows muse, 
 between brackets, is a mere description, modifica- 
 tion, or limitation of muse; what follows disobe- 
 dience is a description of the disobedience, which 
 is the object of sing — that is, the subject of the 
 poem. The words between brackets are only a 
 sort of prolonged parenthetical adjectives, qualifying 
 muse and disobedience. If any intelligent person, 
 bearing this in mind, will read the passage, begin- 
 ning at sing, and turning from chaos back to the 
 first line, all the seeming involution will disappear; 
 and in the after reading of it in its written order, he 
 will be impressed only by the grandeur and the 
 mighty sweep and sustained power of the invoca- 
 tion. The two qualifying or adjectival passages, 
 although composed of several elements, each of 
 which is evolved from its predecessor, which it 
 qualifies, being itself a sort of adjective, are written 
 in a style so plain and so direct that no reader 
 of ordinary intelligence can fail to comprehend 
 them as fully and as easily as he can comprehend 
 any passage in a novel or newspaper of the day. 
 Would, indeed, that novels and newspapers were 
 
288 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 written with any approach to such simplicity and 
 such directness ! I do not say such meaning. 
 
 Milton's invocation is not the only example of 
 its kind in the opening of a great English poem. 
 Chaucer, writing nearly three hundred years be- 
 fore the blind Puritan, and in an entirely different 
 spirit, thus introduces his " Troilus and Creseide," 
 a poem as full of imagination and of a knowledge 
 of man's inmost heart as any one, not dramatic 
 in form, that has since been bestowed upon the 
 world : — 
 
 " The double sorrow of Troilus to tellen, 
 That was Kinge Priamus sonne of Troy, 
 In loving, how his aventures fellen 
 From woe to wele, and after out of joy, 
 My purpose is, er that I part froy : 
 Thou, Tesiphone, thou helpe me for t'indite 
 These wofull verses, that wepen as I write." 
 
 That is clear enough to any intelligent and edu- 
 cated reader who is not troubled by the fact that 
 Chaucer " didn't know how to spell ; " but it is real- 
 ly more involved in structure, more like a passage 
 from a Latin poet, than the opening of " Paradise 
 Lost." The sentence, according to the natural 
 order of thought, begins with the fifth line, " My 
 purpose is," etc., and then turns back to the first 
 line, which itself contains an inversion — " The 
 sorrow to tellen " for tf To tellen the sorrow." But 
 the whole of the second line is really an adjective 
 qualifying Troilus, and this is thrown in between 
 the verb " to tellen " and the phrase " in loving," the 
 latter of which is really an adjective qualifying the 
 object of the action " sorrow." So that the logical 
 order of the sentence is this : " My purpose is to 
 

 GRAMMAR, ENGLISH AND LATIN. 289 
 
 tell the double sorrow in loving of Troilus, that was 
 King Priam's son of Troy, how his adventures fell 
 from woe to weal, and after out of joy." The con- 
 struction of the passage, however, as Chaucer wrote 
 it, is not English ; and although in a formal open- 
 ing of a long poem, it is not only admissible, but 
 impressive, it would, if continued, become intoler- 
 able. Inversion has been used with fine effect in a 
 single clause by Parsons, in his noble lines upon a 
 bust of Dante, — , 
 
 " How stern of lineament, how grim, 
 The father was of Tuscan song! " 
 
 Here the limiting adjectival phrase, " of Tuscan 
 song," is separated by the verb from the noun which 
 it qualifies, and the result is (we can hardly tell why) 
 a deep and strong impression upon the reader's mind. 
 Such effects, however, are not in harmony with the 
 genius of the English language, and are admissible 
 and attainable only at the hands of those who wield 
 language with a singular felicity. 
 
 The reason why inversions of the logical order 
 of thought are perilous, and rarely admissible in 
 English, has a direct relation to the subject under 
 discussion. For example, in neither of these pas- 
 sages from Chaucer and from Parsons is the con- 
 struction safely keyed together by etymological 
 forms, as would have been the case if they had 
 been written by a Greek or a Latin poet. We have 
 to divine the connection of the words and clauses — 
 to guess at it, from our general knowledge of the 
 poet's meaning — from the drift of his sentence; 
 and thus, instead of being placed at once in com- 
 munication with him, and receiving his thought di- 
 
 J 9 
 
29O WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 rectly and without a doubt, and being free to assent 
 or dissent, to like or to dislike, we must give our- 
 selves, for a longer or a shorter time, — in some 
 cases but an inappreciable moment, — to unravel- 
 ling his construction ; doing, in a measure, what 
 we are obliged to do in reading a Greek or a Latin 
 author. In the example quoted from Parsons, the 
 inversion, although violent, disturbs so little of the 
 sentence, and produces so pleasant a surprise, and 
 one which is renewed at each re-reading, that we 
 not only pardon, but admire. Success is here, as 
 ever, full justification. But Chaucer loses more in 
 clearness and ease than he gains in impressiveness 
 and dignity ; and Milton's exhibition of power to 
 mount and soar at the first essay does not quite 
 recompense all of us for the sudden strain he gives 
 our eyes in following him. But the completest 
 victory over the difficulty of inversion in the con- 
 struction of the English sentence will not make it 
 endurable, .except as a curious exhibition of our 
 mother tongue, disguised in foreign garb, and aping 
 foreign manners. A single stanza, composed of 
 lines like that of Parsons, on Dante's bust, would 
 weary and offend even the most cultivated English 
 reader. Those who are untrained in intellectual 
 gymnastics would abandon it, upon 'the first at- 
 tempt, as beyond their powers. 
 
 The most striking example of the destruction of 
 meaning by the inverted arrangement of thought that 
 I have met with in the writings of authors of re- 
 pute is the following line, which closes the beauti- 
 ful sonnet in Sidney's " Astrophel and Stella," 
 beginning, "With how sad steps, O Moon, thou 
 climbst the night ! " 
 
GRAMMAR, ENGLISH AND LATIN. 20,1 
 
 " Do they call virtue there forgetfulness?" 
 
 The meaning of this seems clear ; and it is so, 
 
 according to the order of the words, which ask if, 
 
 in a certain place, virtue is called forgetfulness. But 
 
 this is exactly the reverse of Sidney's meaning, as 
 
 will be seen by the context : — 
 
 " Is constant love deemed there but want of wit? 
 Are beauties there as proud as here they be ? 
 Do they above love to be loved, and yet 
 Those lovers scorn whom that love doth possess? 
 Do they call virtue there forgetfulness?" 
 
 That is, we at last discover, Do they call forgetful- 
 ness virtue? But reason ourselves into this appre- 
 hension of the sentence as absolutely as we can, 
 familiarize ourselves with it as much as we may, it 
 will, at every new reading, strike us, as it did at 
 first, that the poet's question is asked about virtue. 
 So absolute, in English, is the law of logical order. 
 
 The following passages, which I have recently 
 seen given as examples of confusion resulting from 
 a lack of proper punctuation, illustrate the present 
 subject : — 
 
 '•I continued on using it, and by the time I had taken five 
 bottles I found myself completely cured, after having been 
 brought so near to the gates of death by your infallible med- 
 
 icine 
 
 " The extensive view presented from the fourth story of the 
 Hudson River" ! 
 
 " His remains were committed to that bourn whence no trav- 
 eller returns attended by his friends " ! 
 
 The fault here is not in the punctuation, but in 
 the order of the words, which, however, although 
 nonsensical in English, might make very good sense 
 in Greek or Latin. The sentences are all examples 
 of the hopeless confusion which may be produced 
 
292 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 by an inversion which violates logical order ; and 
 if they were peppered with points, the fault would 
 not thus be remedied. I shall leave it to my read- 
 ers to put the words into their proper order, merely 
 remarking upon the last example, that the form of 
 the sentence is quite worthy of a man who could 
 speak of committing a body to a bourn , and that 
 bourn the one whence no traveller returns ! 
 
 The difference between the construction of the 
 Latin and Greek languages and that of the English 
 language is not accidental, nor the product of a 
 merely unconscious exercise of power. It is the 
 result of a direct exertion of the human will to make 
 the instrument of its expression more and more 
 simple and convenient. The change which has 
 produced this difference began a very long while 
 ago, and for many centuries has been making more 
 or less progress among all the Indo-European lan- 
 guages. Latin is a less grammatical language than 
 its elder sister, the Greek ; the modern Latin or 
 Romance tongues, Italian, Spanish, French, are less 
 grammatical than the Latin ; the Teutonic tongues 
 are less grammatical than the Romance ; and of the 
 Teutonic tongues English is the least grammatical — 
 so little dependent is it, indeed, upon the forms of 
 grammar for the structure of the sentence, that it 
 cannot rightly be said to have any grammar. 
 
 And here I will remark that it is in this wide dif- 
 ference between the etymology and the syntax of 
 the modern languages — French, Italian, Spanish, 
 German, and English, and those of the Greek and 
 Latin — that the incomparable superiority of the 
 latter as the means of education consists. The 
 languages of modern Europe, widely dissimilar 
 
GRAMMAR, ENGLISH AND LATIN. 293 
 
 although they seem to the superficial reader, differ 
 chiefly in their vocabularies ; and even there much 
 of their unlikeness is due to the difference of pro- 
 nunciation, an incidental variation which obtains to 
 a considerable degree in the same language within 
 the period of one hundred years. In structure the 
 modern languages are too much alike to make the 
 study of any one of them by a person to whom any 
 other is vernacular very valuable as a means of men- 
 tal discipline. They are acquired with great facility 
 by people of no education and very inferior mental 
 powers : couriers and valets-de-jplace, who speak 
 and write three or four of them fluently and cor- 
 rectly, being numerous in all the capitals of the 
 European Continent. 
 
 Education is not the getting of knowledge, but dis- 
 cipline, development ; and it is not for the knowledge 
 we obtain at school and college that we pass our 
 early }^ears in study. The mere acquaintance with 
 facts that we then painfully acquire, we could, in our 
 maturer years, obtain in a tenth part of the time that 
 we give to our education. Still less is it necessary 
 for European students in modern days to seek knowl- 
 edge from Greek and Latin authors. All existing 
 knowledge is easily attainable in a living tongue. 
 And, finally, to the demand why, if boys must study 
 language as a means of education, can they not 
 study French or German, languages which are 
 now spoken, and which will be of some practical 
 (/. £., money-making) use to them, the answer is, 
 that the value of the classical tongues as means of 
 education is in the very fact that they are dead, 
 and that their structure is so remote from that of 
 ours, that to dismember their sentences and recon- 
 
294 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 struct them according to our own fashion of speak- 
 ing is such an exercise of perception, judgment, and 
 memory, such a training in thought and the use of 
 language, as can be found in no other study or in- 
 tellectual exertion to which immature and untrained 
 persons of ordinary powers are competent. To us 
 of English race and speech this discipline is more 
 severe, and therefore more valuable, than to any 
 people of the Continent, because of the greater dis- 
 tance, in this respect, between our own language 
 than between any one of theirs and the Greek and 
 Latin, and the wider difference between the English 
 and the Greek or the Latin cast of thought. Be- 
 cause, to repeat what has already been insisted 
 upon, the Greek and the Latin languages are con- 
 structed upon syntactical principles, which, in their 
 turn, rest upon etymological or formal inflection, 
 and English, being almost without formal inflection, 
 and nearly independent of syntax — without dis- 
 tinction of mood in verbs, and with almost none of 
 tense and person — with only one case of nouns, 
 and with neither number nor case in adjectives — 
 with no gender at all of nouns, of adjectives, or of 
 participles — without laws of agreement or of govern- 
 ment, the very verb in English being, in most cases, 
 independent of its nominative as to form, rests solely 
 upon the relations of thought ; in brief, because 
 the Greek and Latin languages have grammar — 
 formal grammar — and the English language, to 
 all intents and purposes, has none. 
 
 How this is, and why, will be more fully and 
 particularly considered in the next chapter. 
 
THE GRAMMARLESS TONGUE. 295 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE GRAMMARLESS TONGUE. 
 
 IN the last chapter it was set forth that English 
 is an almost grammarless language. The two 
 elements of grammar being etymology, — which 
 concerns the inflections of words ; that is, changes 
 in form to express modification of meaning, — and 
 syntax, — which concerns the construction of sen- 
 tences according to the formal relations of words, — 
 and the English language being almost without the 
 former, and therefore equally without the latter, its 
 use must be, in a corresponding degree, untram- 
 melled by the rules of grammar, and subject only 
 to the laws of reason, which we call logic. We 
 have, indeed, been long afflicted with grammarians 
 from whom we have suffered much, and to whose 
 usurped authority we — that is, the most of us — 
 have submitted, with hardly a murmur or a ques- 
 tion. But the truth of this matter is, that of the 
 rules given in the books called English Grammars, 
 some are absurd, and the most are superfluous. 
 For example, it can be easily shown that in the 
 English language, with few exceptions, the fol- 
 lowing simple and informal relations of words 
 prevail : — 
 
296 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 The verb needs not, and generally does not, 
 agree with its nominative case in number and per- 
 son : 
 
 Pronouns do not agree with their antecedent 
 nouns in person, number, and gender : 
 
 Active verbs do not govern the objective case, or 
 any other : 
 
 Prepositions do not govern the objective case, or 
 any other : 
 
 One verb does not govern another in the infin- 
 itive mood : 
 
 Nor is the infinitive a mood, nor is it governed 
 by substantive, adjective, or participle : 
 
 Conjunctions need not connect the same moods 
 and tenses of verbs. 
 
 The grammarians have laid down laws directly 
 to the contrary of these assertions ; but the gram- 
 marians are wrong, and, in the very nature of 
 things, cannot be right; for their laws assume as 
 conditions precedent the existence of things which 
 do not exist. In English, the verb is almost with- 
 out distinction of number and of person ; the noun 
 is entirely without gender, and has no objective 
 case ; the adjective and the participle are without 
 number, gender, and case ; the infinitive is not a 
 mood, it is not an inflection of the verb, or a part 
 of it ; and conjunctions are free from all rules but 
 those of common sense and taste. 
 
 No term was ever more unwisely chosen than 
 govermnent to express the relations of words in the 
 sentence. It is one of the mysterious metaphors 
 which have been imposed upon the world, gen- 
 erally by tyrants or tricksters, and with which 
 
THE GRAMMARLESS TONGUE. 297 
 
 thought is confused and language darkened. In 
 grammar it implies, or seems to imply, a power in 
 one word over another. Now, there is in no lan- 
 guage any such power, or any relation which is 
 properly symbolized by such a power. 
 
 In Latin, Greek, and other inflected languages, 
 the forms of the words of which a sentence is made 
 up, present outward signs of requirement which 
 give some hint as to what the grammarians mean 
 by one word's governing another. But in English 
 there is no such visible sign ; and this arbitrary, 
 mysterious, and metaphorical phrase, government, 
 is, to young minds, and particularly if they are 
 reasoning and not merely receptive, perplexing in 
 the extreme. Even in languages which have va- 
 riety of inflection, words do not govern each other; 
 but they may be said to fit into each other by cor- 
 responding forms which indicate their proper con- 
 nection, so that a sentence is dovetailed together. 
 In English, however, with the exception of a few 
 pronouns, one case of nouns, and two tenses and 
 one person of the verb, all the words are as round 
 and smooth, and as independent of each other in 
 form, as the pebbles on the sea-shore. The at- 
 tempt to bind such words together by the links of 
 etymology and syntax, or, in other words, to make 
 grammatical rules for a language in which the noun 
 has only one case, — in which there is no gender 
 of noun, adjective, or participle, — in which dis- 
 tinction of tense, number, person in verbs is almost 
 unknown, and that of voice absolutely wanting, is, 
 on its face, absurd. 
 
 In English, words are formed into sentences by 
 
2Q-8 words and their uses. 
 
 the operation of an invisible power, which is like 
 magnetism. Each one is charged with a meaning 
 which gives it a tendency toward some of those in the 
 sentence, and particularly to one, and which repels 
 it from the others ; and he who subtly divines and 
 dexterously uses this attraction, filling his words 
 with a living but latent light and heat, which makes 
 them leap to each other and cling together while 
 they transmit his freely-flowing thought, is a master 
 of the English language, although he may be igno- 
 rant and uninstructed in its use. And here is one 
 difference between the English and the ancient 
 classic tongues. The great writers of the latter 
 were, and, it would seem, must needs have been, 
 men of high culture — grammarians in the ancient 
 sense of the word, which I have before mentioned; 
 but some of the best English that has been written 
 is the simple, strong utterance of uneducated men, 
 entirely undisciplined in the use of language. 
 True, they had genius, — some of them, at least ; 
 but genius, giving them strength and clearness of 
 imagination, or of reason, could yet not have taught 
 them to write with purity and power a language 
 like the Greek, in which the verb had three voices, 
 five moods, and two aorists, and nine persons for 
 every tense; in which all nouns had three num- 
 bers, and each noun a gender of its own ; and 
 every adjective and participle three genders and 
 six cases, a copiousness of inflection possessed by 
 the very articles, definite and indefinite. The 
 Greek language may be the noblest and most per-' 
 feet instrument ever invented by man for the ex- 
 
THE GRAMAMRLESS TONGUE. 299 
 
 pression of his thought ; but certainly, of all the 
 tongues ever spoken by civilized men, it is the 
 most complicated. And I venture to express my 
 belief, that its complication, so far from being an 
 element of its power, is a sign of rudeness, and a 
 remnant of barbarism ; that the Greek and Latin 
 authors were great, not by reason of the verbal 
 forms and the grammatical structure of their lan- 
 guages, but in spite of them ; and that our mother 
 tongue, in freeing herself from these, has only cast 
 aside the trammels of strength and the disguises 
 of beaut} r . 
 
 But I must turn from these general considerations 
 of my subject to such an examination of its partic- 
 ulars as will sustain the position which I have taken. 
 And first of the verb. The Greek verb has, for 
 the expression of the various moods and times of 
 acting and suffering by various persons, more than 
 five hundred inflections ; and these inflections so 
 modify, by processes called augmentation and re- 
 duplication, and by signs of person and of number, 
 both the beginning and the end of the verb, that, 
 to the uninstructed eye, it passes beyond recogni- 
 tion. Thus, for instance, ivmoj (tu-pto), (the verb 
 which occupies in Greek Grammars the place of 
 to love in English Grammars), assumes, among its 
 changes, these dissimilar forms: twiw (tufito), I 
 strike; ireHcpsiv (etetuj)hein) , I had struck; xvnxiasy- 
 aat' (tuftctosan), 1ft them strike; iTETtyetoav (etetu- 
 -pheisan), they had struck; Hupag {titfsas)^ having 
 struck; ixvmofitdov {etiijttomethoii) , we two were 
 struck; izvip&fiedov (etupsamet/ion), we two struck 
 
300 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 ourselves ; zv^.Q^uoi^v (tufhtheesoimeen) , I might 
 be about to be struck. These are but specimens 
 of the more than five hundred bricks which go to 
 make up the regular Greek verbal edifice. Each 
 person of each case has its peculiar significant 
 form or inflection, every one of which must be 
 learned by heart. 
 
 Looking back upon this single and simplest 
 specimen of its myriad inflections, I cannot wonder 
 that boys of English race regard Greek as an 
 invention of the enemy of mankind. But this 
 variety of inflection has not entirely passed away 
 w T ith the life of the ancient Hellenic people and 
 language. It has been shown that the French lan- 
 guage has three hundred different terminations for 
 the simple cases of the ten regular conjugations, 
 one thousand seven hundred and fifty-five for the 
 thirty-nine irregular conjugations, and two hundred 
 for the auxiliary verbs — making a sum total of two 
 thousand one hundred and sixty-five terminations 
 which must be learned by heart.* The verbs of 
 the Greek language must have, I think, in all, 
 more than ten times that number of changes in 
 form. Now, the English verb has, in its regular 
 or weak form, only four . inflections ; and in its 
 so-called irregular, or strong, or ancient form, only 
 five. These inflections serve for the two voices, 
 five moods, six tenses, and six persons which must 
 have expression in a language that answers the 
 needs of a civilized, cultured people. The four 
 forms of the verb to love, for instance, are love, 
 loves, loved, and loving. The first two and the last 
 
 * Sinibaldo, quoted by Max Muller, 
 
THE GRAMMARLESS TONGUE. 3OI 
 
 express action indefinite as to time, the third, definite 
 action. Two others, lovest and lovedest, are to be 
 found in the Grammars, but they have been thrown 
 out of use by the same process of simplification 
 which has cast off the mass of the Anglo-Saxon 
 inflections during the transformation of that lan- 
 guage into English. The present tense indicative 
 of the verb to love is, therefore, now as follows : — 
 
 I love, 
 
 We love, 
 
 You love, 
 
 You love, 
 
 He loves, 
 
 They love. 
 
 Here are five, and, in effect, six nominatives of 
 two numbers and three persons, but only two forms 
 of the verb. How, then, to return to our rules 
 of grammar, can the verb agree with its nominative 
 in number and person? The truth is, that it does 
 not so agree, because those who use it have found 
 that such agreement is not necessary to the clear 
 expression of thought. I love and we love are just 
 as exact in meaning as amo, aniamus. The past 
 tense of the English verb has not even one inflec- 
 tion. It is as follows : — 
 
 I loved, We loved, 
 
 You loved, You loved, 
 
 He loved, They loved. 
 
 It was not always thus. The Anglo-Saxon verb, 
 although, like the English, it had but one voice and 
 two tenses, had inflection of person and number. 
 The present, or indefinite, and the perfect tenses 
 of lufian, to love, were as follows : — 
 
 PRESENT. 
 
 ic lunge, we lufiath, 
 
 thu lufast, ge lufiath, 
 
 he lufath, hi lufiath. 
 
302 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 PERFECT. 
 
 ic lufode, we lufodon, 
 
 thu lufodest, ge lufodon, 
 
 he lufode. hi lufodon. 
 
 These inflections appear in what is called the 
 Early English stage of our language, and some 
 of them are found even in the writings of Chaucer 
 and Gower, although in the days of those poets 
 they had lost their old force, and were rapidly 
 passing away. They were dropped almost with 
 the purpose of simplifying the language, of doing 
 away with complications which were found need- 
 less. It was seen that as the noun or pronoun 
 always accompanied the verb, the plural form in 
 ath or en was not necessary for the exact expres- 
 sion of thought, and that we love and we loved 
 were as unmistakeable in their significance as we 
 lufiath and we lufodon ; and so as to the other 
 numbers and persons of the two tenses. The plu- 
 ral form in en held a place long after other inflec- 
 tions had disappeared ; but that at last passed out of 
 the speech of the people, and about A. D. 1475 it 
 disappeared from the writings of reputable authors. 
 
 The inflections of the singular number had a 
 stronger hold upon the language, probably because 
 the singular number is more frequently used in the 
 common intercourse of life than the plural, and 
 because it is found more necessary to distinguish 
 between the actions, thoughts, and conditions of 
 individuals than between those of masses or groups. 
 The distinctive inflection of the second person 
 singular, est, held its own until the Elizabethan 
 period, when it began to disappear. It prevails in 
 
THE GRAMMARLESS TONGUE. 303 
 
 our translation of the Bible, but Shakespeare rarely 
 uses it : the reason of the difference being that 
 solemnity of occasion or of subject is regarded 
 as requiring unusual precision of language. ■ Thus, 
 to this clay, educated clergymen, in reading the 
 Bible, give the past participle its full, and not its 
 contracted form — lov-ed, not lovd, and, for in- 
 stance, say ven-i-son, not ven'son. 
 
 Again, the change from thou lovcst and thou 
 lovcdest to you love and you loved, seems to have 
 been made merely from the wish to do away with a 
 superfluous inflection. If, in the course of }^ears, 
 the inflection of the third person singular should 
 follow that of the second, and we should say he 
 love, the change would be directly in the line of the 
 natural movement of our language. Should it not 
 take place, the preservation of this lonely, unsup- 
 ported inflection will probably be owing to the 
 restraints of criticism, and the introduction of con- 
 sciousness and culture among the mass of speakers. 
 To some of my readers it may seem impossible that 
 this change should be made, and that he love would 
 be barbarous and almost incomprehensible. But 
 such is not the effect of identity of form between 
 the third person and the first of the perfect tense ; 
 and as it is neither absurd nor obscure to say / 
 loved, you \_z. e., thou] loved, he loved, why should 
 it be so to say I love, you [i. e., thou] love, he 
 love ? 
 
 To turn now to the first rule of our text-books of 
 English grammar — "A verb must agree with its 
 nominative case in number and person." In this 
 rule, if agree means anything, it can only mean that 
 
304 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 the verb must conform itself in some manner to its 
 subject, so that it may be seen that it belongs to that 
 subject. This is the case in Latin, for instance, in 
 which language every person of each number of 
 the verb has a form which indicates that person. 
 
 Amo, I love, Amamus, we love, 
 
 Ainas, you [/. e., thou] love, Amatis, you love, 
 Amat, he loves, Amant, they love. 
 
 But in English, for five of these six persons the 
 verb has but one form. It has been released from 
 all conformity to person except in the third person 
 singular. It has but one form for all the other 
 persons, and it therefore cannot agree with its 
 nominative in number and person, except in the 
 case specified. To say that this one form of the 
 verb does agree with all those forms of the nom- 
 inative — that love does agree with /, and you, 
 singular, we, you, and they, plural is a mere 
 begging of the question by a childish and stren- 
 uous "making believe." And, indeed, as I trust 
 most of my readers now begin to see, nearly all of 
 our so-called English grammar is mere make- 
 believe grammar. No more words should be 
 necessary to show that verbs which have not num- 
 ber and person cannot agree with nominatives, 
 or with anything else, in number and person. 
 And yet that they do so agree is dinned into chil- 
 dren from their infancy until they cease to receive 
 instruction ; and they are required to cite a rule 
 which they cannot understand, as the law of a 
 relation which does not exist. 
 
 The Anglo-Saxon language was even charier as 
 to tenses of the verb than as to numbers and persons. 
 
THE GRAMMARLESS TONGUE. 305 
 
 It had but two of the former, the present, or rather 
 the indefinite, and the past. i\s it passed into Eng- 
 lish, this number was not increased. No English 
 verb has more than two tenses. With these and the 
 two participles, present and past, English speaking 
 folk express all the varieties of mood and tense, and 
 also of voice ; for in English there is but one voice, 
 the active. The Anglo-Saxon present or indefinite 
 tense expressed future action as well as present. 
 Ic lufige (I love) predicated loving in the future as 
 well as in the present time. Nor has this form of 
 speech passed away from the Anglo-Saxon folk. 
 To this day we say, I go to town to-morrow ; Do 
 you go to town to-morrow? The form, I shall 
 go to town, is rarely used except for emphasis ; 
 that, I will go, except to express determination. 
 Indeed, I go is the more elegant form ; is heard 
 most generally from the lips of speakers of the 
 highest culture. And in fact, the commonest predi- 
 cation of future action is one which expresses action 
 passing continuously at time present — I am going, 
 e.g., I am going to town to-morrow. 
 
 This use of the present or indefinite tense is not 
 at all peculiar to the Anglo-Saxon language, or to 
 the English. It appears in many others. "Simon 
 Peter said unto them, I go a fishing; they say unto 
 him, We also go with thee." Two Greek verbs are 
 here translated go ; but both the first, vnuyco (Jiufa- 
 go), and the second, eg/ofjedu (erchomctha) , are in 
 the present tense. In this passage, too, I go, I am 
 going, I shall go, and we go, we are going, we will 
 go, would be equivalents. The peculiarity of the 
 Anglo-Saxon and the English languages in this 
 20 
 
306 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 respect (if they are two languages, which some 
 philologists with show of reason deny, on the ground 
 that our present speech is only a lineal descendant 
 of that of our forefathers), — the peculiarity of our 
 tongue as to this tense and others is, that while, like 
 others, it uses the present indefinite form to ex- 
 press future action, it has not developed a form of 
 the verb for the special expression of that action, or, 
 in fact, of any other action but that which is either 
 present or past. We say, I shall go ; but shall 
 can no more be a part of the verb go than will, or 
 may 9 or can. We say, I have loved ; but, again, have 
 is no more a part of the verb love than to be is, 
 when we say, If I were loving. When we say, I 
 am loving, we only say, in other words, I exist 
 loving; and what other connection has am with 
 loving than exist would have were it used in the 
 place of the former? We, like other peoples, are 
 obliged to express all the different times of action, 
 present, past, and future ; but most other peoples do 
 this by inflections, that is, by real tenses of the verb. 
 As English has different words for expressing the 
 time present and time past of the same action, 
 other tongues have different words for expressing 
 all the varieties of the time of action. 
 
 In English we say, I love, I have loved, I shall 
 have loved ; but in Latin the same thoughts are 
 expressed respectively by the different single words 
 Kzmo, amavi, amavero. To express what the Ro- 
 man expressed by amavi, an inflection of amo, 
 we use a verb have, and the perfect participle of 
 another verb. That participle is an expression of 
 completed action in the abstract — loved. It has no 
 
THE GRAMMARLESS TONGUE. 307 
 
 relation to person, whether the person is the subject 
 or the object of the action, — a point to be remem- 
 bered in our consideration of voice — or to specific 
 time or occasion. The only real verb that we use 
 in this instance is one that signifies possession. We 
 say, I have — have what? possess what? Posses- 
 sion implies an object possessed ; and in this case it 
 is that completed action which is expressed in the 
 abstract by the participle. Loved is here the object 
 of the verb have as much as money would be in the 
 sentence, I have money ; and / have loved is no 
 more a verb, or a part or tense of a verb, than 1 
 have money is, or / have to go. In the first and 
 the last of these, loved and to go are as plainly 
 objects of the verb have as money is in the second ; 
 nor is this relation at all affected by the mere verbal 
 origin of the participle and the infinitive. 
 
 As to the latter, what the grammarians call the 
 infinitive mood is no mood at all, but a substantive, 
 of verbal origin. It is the name of the verb, and 
 so may well be called a substantive. It is not so 
 called for that reason, but because there is no qual- 
 ity of a substantive which the infinitive has not, and 
 but one relation of the substantive — that of pos- 
 session — which it cannot assume ; and there is no 
 distinctive quality of the verb which it does not lack, 
 or relation of the verb which it can assume. For 
 instance, / have to go is merely, It belongs to me to 
 go, To go belongs to me — forms of expression not 
 uncommon among the most cultivated and idiomatic 
 speakers, and which are not only correct, but ele- 
 gant. But that which is expressed by a verb cannot 
 belong to an} r one. Only a thing, something sub- 
 
308 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 stantial (although not necessarily material or phys- 
 ical), i. £., a substantive, can belong. This is no 
 new discovery ; and yet grammarians have gone 
 on for generations teaching children and strangers 
 that to go is a mood, as they have taught them 
 that / have gone and / shall go are tenses of a 
 verb.* 
 
 The substantive character of the infinitive is to be 
 discovered in those phrases which the grammarians 
 call the future tense indicative, and the present 
 and imperfect tenses subjunctive — I shall love, I 
 may love, and I might love. These are no tenses, 
 and have no semblance of tenses ; they are phrases, 
 or rather complete sentences, which express future 
 or contingent action. 
 
 The formation of the future indicative and of the 
 tenses of the subjunctive mood was in this wise : 
 The Anglo-Saxon infinitive was formed in an ox en> 
 and did not admit the preposition to before it ; but 
 there was a second infinitive, formed with the prep- 
 osition, having a dative sense, and being, in fact, a 
 dative form of the infinitive, conveying that sense 
 of obligation or pertinence to which linguists have 
 given the name dative. Thus witan is the Anglo- 
 Saxon infinitive, meaning to know ; but there was 
 used another infinitive, to zuitanne, implying duty, 
 obligation. For example, Hit is to witanne, it is 
 
 * Mary Elstob alone, among Anglo-Saxon grammarians ("The English-Saxon 
 Grammar," 4to, London, 1715, p. 31), mentions "a future tense or time to come" in 
 that language ; of which her example is, " ic stajidc nu rihte, or on sumue timan, I 
 shall stand by-and-by, or some time or other; " and a very pretty sort of future tense 
 it is — one that must commend itself to some of my critics, and all the gentlemen who 
 " usual y talk of a noun and a verb." For if / stand at some time or other be not as 
 good a tense as / shall have stood, they may be able to tell the reason why. I regret, 
 for their sakes, that Mistress Elstob is not, at the present day, a very high authority 
 on the Anglo-Saxon language. 
 
THE GRAMMARLESS TONGUE. 309 
 
 to know, *. <?., it should be known, or ought to be 
 known. This very phrase (with the mere rubbing 
 ofFof the termination during its passage through the 
 centuries) has come down to us as to wit. But 
 to know itself has been thus used for five hundred 
 years, as in the following passage in Purvey's 
 Prologue to the revised WyclifFe Bible, A. D. 
 1388 : - 
 
 '•First it is to know that the best translating is to translate 
 after the sentence, and not only after the words." 
 
 And it also appears not infrequently nowadays in 
 the phrase, You are to know — thus and so, mean- 
 ing, You should know, You ought to know, It be- 
 hooves } t ou to know, thus and so ; and constantly in 
 the colloquial phrases, I have to go here or there, I 
 have to do thus and so. The phrase, This house 
 to let, which some uneasy precisians would change 
 into This house to be let, is quite correct, and has 
 come down to us, as it will be seen, from the re- 
 motest period. 
 
 Now, when Anglo-Saxon was becoming English 
 by the dropping of its few inflections and the lay- 
 ing aside of its light bonds of formal grammar, the 
 form of the infinitive which remained was natu- 
 rally the one which was indicated, not by an inflec- 
 tion, but by a preposition. At first, and indeed for 
 a century or two, the inflected termination was 
 retained, but it would seem merely from habit, 
 with no significance attached to it. Thus in the 
 passage from Chaucer's "Troilus and Cresseide " 
 quoted in the last chapter, the first line is, — 
 
 "The double sorrow of Troilus to tellen." 
 
 But in Chaucer's day, our forefathers were be- 
 
3IO WORDS AND THEIR. USES. 
 
 ginning to drop the n and the syllable of which it 
 was part, and instead of to loven and to liven* to 
 write to live and to love, as we do. But they wrote 
 to telle, as we do not ; the final e, which appears 
 in old, and in some modern forms of certain verbs, 
 being in its place, not by mere accident, but as a 
 remnant of the old infinitive. Hence, too, this final 
 e was sometimes pronounced, as every student of 
 Chaucer knows. The dropping of old plurals of 
 verbs and nouns in en (a great loss in the latter 
 case, I think) left many words ending in silent e 
 preceded by a double consonant, — a form which 
 began to pass rapidly away in the latter part of the 
 sixteenth century, but which may still be traced in 
 our orthography ; for instance, the very verb in the 
 line from " Troilus and Cresseide." If we do not 
 write tellen, there is no etymological reason why we 
 should not write tel. The cause of the present 
 form of the verb is, that in Anglo-Saxon it was a 
 dissyllable, and that in dropping the last syllable, 
 only its essentials, the vowel and the following con- 
 sonant, were removed. The double consonant is 
 now retained in some words, and the silent vowel 
 in some others, as love and live, for orthoepical 
 reasons. 
 
 To return to the formation of what the gramma- 
 rians call the future indicative tense, and to the 
 tenses of the subjunctive mood. These, they tell 
 us, are formed by means of auxiliary verbs. But 
 this is a very misleading representation of the case, 
 consequent upon the endeavor to keep up the fic- 
 tion of formal grammar in English — the make- 
 believe system. In fact, the auxiliary theory is a 
 
THE GRAMMARLESS TONGUE. 3II 
 
 mere clumsy sham. In / a?7t loved, I will go, 
 there are no auxiliary or really helping words. 
 Neither word needs the help of the other, except, as 
 other words do, for the making of a sentence, which 
 each of these examples is, completely. In I am 
 loved, and / will go, am and will are no more 
 helping verbs than exist and determi7ie are in the 
 sentences, I exist loved, and I determine to go. 
 Loved and go will each make a perfect sense with / 
 and without any help — I loved, I go. In the sen- 
 tences I am loved and I will go, loved and go are 
 not verbs. The former is a participle, or verbal 
 adjective, the latter a verbal substantive. The 
 Anglo-Saxon had not even any seeming auxiliary 
 verbs. Its use of habban, beon, willan, magan, 
 cunnan and mot (*. e., have, be, will, may, can, 
 might), does not convey the notion of time and 
 contingency, but simply predicates possession, ex- 
 istence, volition, necessity, power; and hence came 
 those phrases by which we speak of action or exist- 
 ence in the future or under supposed circumstances. 
 I will tell is in old English, I will tellen, and this 
 is merely the verb I will joined to the infinitive 
 or verbal substantive tellen. From the latter the 
 last syllable has been worn ; but none the less / 
 will tell is simply I will to tell. The dative per- 
 taining idea is conveyed, i. e., my will is to tell, 
 my will is for telling, or toward telling. Thus I 
 can love is merely I can to love, I am able to 
 love ; and so it is with the phrases / might love, I 
 could love, I would love, I should love. They 
 are all, not verbs or parts of verbs, but phrases 
 formed by the use of the indicative present of one 
 
312 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 verb with the infinitive or verbal substantive of an- 
 other. 
 
 By this discarding of inflected tenses the Eng- 
 lish language has gained, not only in simplicity, but 
 in flexibility and variety. The Latin language, 
 for instance, has, for the expression of I might love, 
 and also of I could, and of I would, and of I should 
 — love, only the single inflected form amarem : 
 whereas we are able to express, in regard to the 
 same time of action, four very marked and differing 
 shades of meaning, while we are entirely freed from 
 the grammatical restraints and complications im- 
 posed by inflection. The Latin folk were obliged 
 to remember six forms for this one tense, and yet 
 were able to make no distinction in tense between 
 the ideas of possibility, power, volition, and obli- 
 gation, in connection with future action. 
 
 SINGULAR. PLURAL. 
 
 1. Amarem i. Amaremus, 
 
 2. Amares, 2. Amaretis, 
 
 3. Amaret, 3. Amarent. 
 
 Whereas in English we, by a simple change of 
 the subject, noun or pronoun, say, — 
 
 y love. 
 
 But we do not thereby form a tense of the verb. 
 Could absurdity be more patent than in the asser- 
 tion, not only that might and should are a part 
 of the verb to love, but that several words convey- 
 
 I 
 
 might, or 
 
 You 
 
 could, or 
 
 He 
 
 would, or 
 
 We * 
 
 should, 
 
 You 
 
 (according to the meaning 
 
 They 
 
 to be conveyed) 
 

 THE GRAMMARLESS TONGUE. 313 
 
 ing thoughts so widely different as I might love 
 and I should love, are actually the same part of the 
 same verb? A consideration of the difference in 
 meaning of those two sentences, of their radical 
 difference, or rather their absolute opposition, the 
 one expressing possibility, the other obligation, and 
 of the fact that, according to the English gram- 
 marians, they are equally parts of one so-called 
 tense, the imperfect subjunctive, which in Latin is 
 a tense, amarem, will make it clear that in English 
 we have not merely substituted one tense form for 
 another. We have done away with the tense ; we 
 have done away with all tenses, except the present, 
 or indefinite, and the past. We have found that 
 those tenses are all that we need ; that with the 
 forms significant of present and of past action, or 
 being, or suffering, we can express ourselves in con- 
 formity to all the conditions of time, past, present, 
 and future. 
 
 As we have dealt with tenses, so have we with 
 voices. The English verb has but one voice — the 
 active. And not only has it no passive voice, but 
 there is in the language no semblance of a passive 
 voice. The Greek, who must have three numbers 
 to his nouns, one for an individual, one, the dual, 
 for two, and a third for more than two, was also 
 not content without three voices — the active, the 
 passive, and one which w r as in sense between those 
 two, which has been called the middle voice, but 
 might better have been called the reflective voice. 
 Thus we say I wash, I am washed, I washed my- 
 self; the Greek, expressing the same facts that 
 are expressed by these English phrases, said in 
 
314 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 three words, lovu (louo), lovoftm {louomai), Hovcrafirjv 
 (elousameen) . Now, the English grammarians tell 
 their hapless pupils that to be washed is the passive 
 voice of the verb to wash. It is no such thing. 1 
 If / am washed is the passive voice of / wash, 
 equally is I wash myself its middle voice. But 
 no English grammarian known to me, or that I 
 ever heard of, has set forth such forms of speech 
 as / washed myself as a middle voice. It is a 
 sentence, as much so as I washed John ; and if 
 myself is no part of the verb to wash, no more is 
 am ; and I am washed is no part of any verb, but 
 a complete sentence, with a subject and a predicate 
 consisting of a verb and a participial adjective. 
 The reason why, although I am washed 'is set down 
 by the English grammarians as a part of the verb 
 to wash, I wash myself, is not, plainly is that the 
 Latin language, upon which our English gramma- 
 rians have formed their system, and to which their 
 rules have been as much as possible assimilated, 
 has a passive, but no middle voice. Had there 
 been a middle voice in the Latin, there would have 
 been one in the English Grammars, and we should 
 have been told that one part of the verb to wash 
 was I shall have washed myself, although we could 
 separate this tense thus : / probably shall by ten 
 o'clock have nearly washed or bathed myself 
 
 We have done away with the passive voice in all 
 its moods and tenses ; and we have no passive form 
 of the verb whatever, not even a passive participle. 
 We express the fact of passivity, or the recipience 
 of any action, by some verb, and the perfect partici- 
 ple of the verb expressing that action ; and this 
 
THE GRAMMARLESS TONGUE. 315 
 
 perfect participle we apply to ourselves or to others 
 as a qualification. In technical language we make 
 it a participal adjective, that is, a word which quali- 
 fies a noun by representing it as affected or modified 
 by some action. Thus we say, a good man, or, 
 a loved man ; and in these phrases both good and 
 loved are adjectives qualifying man. To be loved 
 is no more a verb than to be good. According 
 to the English grammarians, we can conjugate the 
 former, in all the moods and tenses of their so- 
 called passive voice. But so we can the latter. 
 
 I am good, We are good, 
 
 Thou art good, Ye or you are good, 
 
 He is good, They are good. 
 
 This is conjugation as much as I am loved, Thou 
 art loved, and so forth, is ; and it can be carried 
 out, of course, to I shall have been, or I might, 
 could, would, or should have been — either good 
 or loved, it makes no difference which. But that 
 is not conjugation in either case ; it is the mere 
 forming of sentences. When a Greek boy wished 
 to express his conviction that at a certain time 
 future, if he had done what was wrong, or had not 
 done what was right, certain unpleasant conse- 
 quences w r ould have followed, he said in one word, 
 T6ivipoaat {tetufsomai) , which is a tense of the verb 
 rinrm (titptoi). But the English boy uses instead of 
 this one word a sentence made up of a pronoun, 
 two verbs, and two participles : he says, I shall 
 have been beaten. Of the verbs, the first, shall, 
 expresses a present sense of future certainty, 
 obligation, or inevitableness. Thus Dr. Johnson 
 says, / shall love is equivalent to "it will be so that 
 
3l6 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 I must love." The second verb, have, expresses 
 possession. He says, I shall have — what? Some- 
 thing. 
 
 r something. . 
 I shall have -j a beating. 
 
 i. been beaten. 
 
 Have cannot have one meaning in two of these 
 instances, and another in the third. Of the two 
 perfect or definite participles, the first, been, ex- 
 presses past existence. He says, I shall have 
 been — what? Something, or in some condition. 
 
 r a bad boy. 
 I shall have been 1 deficient in my lesson. 
 [_ beaten. 
 
 By what process can, or in consequence of what 
 necessity does, been have one meaning in two 
 of these instances, and another in the third? But 
 by the union of the verb of existence with the per- 
 fect or definite participle of an active verb, the 
 English language can and does express the recipi- 
 ence of action, i. e., existence under action. There- 
 fore the perfect participle of the verb of existence 
 united to that of an active verb expresses the 
 perfected recipience of action. But, according to 
 English idiom, we cannot use been without putting 
 the idea of possession between it and the subject. 
 To express a completed existence, we say not, I 
 been, but / have been. Therefore our English 
 boy, when he says, I shall have been beaten, says 
 in other words, It will be so that I must possess 
 the perfected recipience of the action of beating. 
 Truly, a long and lumbering equivalent of his 
 phrase ; but so are, and so must be, all explana- 
 
THE GRAMMARLESS TONGUE. 317 
 
 tions and paraphrases of idiomatic or figurative 
 forms of speech. None the less, however, is / 
 shall have been beaten a sentence ; and this sen- 
 tence, thus made up of a pronoun, with two verbs 
 and two participles which have no etymological 
 relations, English grammarians call a tense, the 
 future perfect tense of the passive voice of the verb 
 to beat ! Could there be better proof that the Eng- 
 lish verb has neither future tense nor passive voice ? * 
 The simplification of our language, which has 
 left the English verb only one voice and but two 
 tenses, has given only one case to the English 
 noun, the possessive, or two if we reckon the 
 nominative, which, strictly speaking, is not a case. 
 The English noun has no objective case. English 
 grammarians tell us that it has, and that this case 
 is governed, and agrees, and is put in apposition, 
 and what not. But the truth is, that the English 
 language, although it expresses clearly the objec- 
 tive relation, does it without case, and merely by 
 position, arrangement in logical order. One of the 
 rules of the English grammarians is that, " Active 
 verbs govern the objective case," or, according to 
 another form., "A noun or pronoun used as the 
 object of a transitive verb or its participles must be 
 in the objective case ; as, William defeated Har- 
 old." Here, therefore, we are told Harold is in 
 "the objective case." How, then, is it with this 
 sentence ? — Harold defeated "William. No change 
 
 * I need not stop to say to the candid scholar that the Latin, like the English, is 
 without a tense corresponding to the Greek third future passive, and also without some 
 other formal tenses in the passive voice. But this is not to my present purpose. Here 
 Latin and Greek concern me only when they can be used by way of illustration. As 
 to some objections which have been made to the theory of our verb formation imper- 
 fectly set forth above, see the Note at the end of this chapter. 
 
3l8 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 has been made in the word Harold; it is in the 
 same case in both sentences. It has simply 
 changed its position, and so its relation. In the 
 former sentence, Harold is the object, and William 
 the subject, of the action ; in the latter, Harold 
 is the subject, and William the object. But what 
 in language could be more absurd or more confus- 
 ing to a learner than to say that a mere change in 
 the place of a word makes a change in its case ? 
 And so, as to the rule, "A noun or pronoun 
 used to explain or identify another noun is put by 
 apposition in the same case; as, William, the Nor- 
 man duke, defeated Harold, the Saxon king." 
 Here we are told that duke is in the nominative 
 case, because it is in apposition with William , and 
 that king is in the objective case, it being in apposi- 
 tion with Harold. But let the words be merely 
 shifted, without any inflection, and let us read, 
 Harold, the Saxon king, defeated William, the Nor- 
 man duke ; which is English, and might have been 
 truth. In what case here are king and duke ? 
 Clearly they are in no case in either example. 
 They are simply subject and object, or object and 
 subject, according to their relative positions. 
 
 We are told by one of the latest English gram- 
 marians, in his etymology of pronouns, that, "To 
 pronouns, like nouns, belong person, number, 
 gender, and case." This is a notably incorrect 
 assertion. Upon two of these points, nouns and 
 pronouns are remarkably unlike ; upon one other 
 they are correctly said to be alike ; upon the 
 fourth, the assertion is untrue as to both. 
 
 Pronouns and nouns have number; pronouns 
 
THE GRAMMARLESS TONGUE. 319 
 
 have person, nouns have not; pronouns have 
 two cases — the possessive and the objective, nouns 
 but one — the possessive. The rules given in 
 English Grammars for the syntax of nouns, apply, 
 with a single exception, to pronouns only, and 
 are founded chiefly upon the persons and cases of 
 the latter — the forms /, my, me, We, our, zcs, 
 Thou, thy, thee, Tou, your, He, his, him, She, 
 hers, her, It, its, They, their, them, to which there 
 are no corresponding forms in nouns, except the 
 possessive in es, which has been contracted to 's, as 
 if we were feeling our way towards its entire 
 abolition. Disappear it surely will, if we find that we 
 can do without it, and that, for instance, John coat 
 is just as precise and apprehensible as Joints coat. 
 One of the pronoun cases is visibly disappearing — 
 the objective case whom. Even in the fastidious 
 "Saturday Review " we sometimes find who as the 
 object of a verb. Our pronouns, however, are still 
 inflected, and have cases; and of pronouns, active 
 verbs do govern, or rather require, the objective 
 case. To our few pronouns, then, may be applied 
 all those rules of construction which rest upon case- 
 form, which, borrowed from the Latin language 
 and thrust upon the student of English, are an- 
 nounced in our Grammars as the laws for the 
 syntax of the vast multitude of nouns. 
 
 Thus far, as to the positive likeness and unlike- 
 ness of nouns and pronouns. They have also a 
 negative likeness, as to which they are misrepre- 
 sented in all English Grammars, as in the one 
 above cited. Both nouns and pronouns are without 
 gender. There is no gender in the English Ian- 
 
320 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 guage. Distinctions of sex are expressed by Eng- 
 lish folk ; but this fact does not imply the existence 
 of gender in the English language. Sex is gen- 
 erally, although not always, expressed by gender ; 
 but distinction of gender rarely implies distinction 
 of sex. There are thousands of words in Greek, 
 in Latin, and in French, which are masculine or 
 feminine, and which are the names of things and of 
 thoughts that can have no sex. The Latin noun 
 -penna, a pen, is feminine; and so is the French 
 table, a table. These words have gender, although 
 the things they signify have no sex. The corre- 
 sponding English nouns are said in English Gram- 
 mar to be of "the neuter gender." But they are 
 of no gender at all. 
 
 Gender in language belongs, not to things, but to 
 words. It is one of the most barbarous and foolish 
 notions with which the mind of man was ever vexed. 
 One or two examples shall make this plain. Beau is 
 the French adjective expressing masculine beauty ; 
 its feminine counterpart is belle ; so that a fine man 
 has come to be called a beau, and a beautiful wo- 
 man a belle. But, notwithstanding this, women, as 
 the fair sex, are called in French le beau sexe — the 
 reason being that in French, sex, the word sexe, is 
 masculine ! All languages afflicted with gender 
 are covered with such irritating absurdity ; so that 
 this distinction of words is the bane and the torment 
 of learners, whether to the manner born or not. 
 For instance, in French, one is in constant dread 
 lest one should commit such blunders as to speak 
 of masculine breeches — the name of that garment 
 in France being, with fine satire, feminine. And 
 
THE GRAMMARLESS TONGUE. 321 
 
 yet, with all this complicated provision of gender — 
 say rather by reason of it — these languages are 
 sometimes unable to distinguish sex. A case in 
 point is this passage from " Gil Bias : " — 
 
 " Je fis la lecture de mon ouvrage, que sa majeste n'entendit 
 pas sans plaisir. Elle temoigna qu'elle etait contente de moi." — 
 Book VIII. Chap. 5. 
 
 This passage tells us that Gil Bias read his work 
 to a monarch, who was pleased and who expressed 
 satisfaction. But although every word in the two 
 sentences, except the participles and the verbs, has 
 gender, it is impossible to learn from this passage 
 whether the monarch was male or female ; as im- 
 possible as it is to do so from my. paraphrase, which 
 is purposely made without distinction of sex. The 
 latter of the two sentences is bewildering to the 
 common sense of an English reader who knows 
 the context. It is, She showed that she was satis- 
 fied with me. Now, the she was a man — King 
 Philip IV. of Spain. But in defiance of sex, the 
 feminine pronoun is used because majesty, not the 
 quality or the condition, but the word majeste, is 
 feminine ! Here sex is not expressed by gender ; 
 and the lack of necessary connection between sex 
 and gender is manifest. 
 
 In English we express only sex ; that is, we 
 merely have different words to express the male 
 and the female of living things. The human male 
 we call man, the human female, woman ; so we 
 say boy and girl, father and mother, brother and 
 sister, uncle and aunt, bull and cow, horse and 
 mare, bullock and heifer, buck and doe, cock and 
 hen, and so forth. But even in cases like these, 
 21 
 
322 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 woman, for instance, is not the feminine form of the 
 word man, or girl of boy, or doe of $z^, or hen of 
 £0£>&. We have in these words merely different 
 names for different things. And although in such 
 instances as actor, actress, hunter, huntress, tiger, 
 tigress, the name of the female is a feminine form 
 of the name of the male, this has no effect upon the 
 construction of the sentence ; the distinction made 
 is still one purely of sex, and not of gender. Yet 
 further : in pronouns, although they represent nouns 
 belonging to the two sexes, there is no distinction 
 of gender whatever; and, w r hat is the more re- 
 markable, considering the ado grammarians make 
 about gender, none even of sex, except in one num- 
 ber of one person. /, thou, we, you, they, who, 
 and all the rest, except he, she, and it, refer to mas- 
 culine and feminine persons alike. In the pronoun 
 of the third person singular we have a relic of our 
 forefathers' inflected tongue. The Anglo-Saxon 
 pronoun was masculine he, feminine he6, neuter hit, 
 which are respectively represented by our he, she, 
 it. But here, again, the distinction is of sex, not 
 of gender, and would be so even if it were carried 
 through all the persons. He, she, and it are merely 
 words that stand for male, female, and sexless 
 things, and their forms are not affected by any 
 "governing" or requiring power of the other words 
 in the sentences in which they appear. There is, 
 then, no gender in the English language, but only 
 distinction of sex ; that is, merely, we do not call a 
 woman a man, a hen a cock, or a heifer a bullock. 
 This being true, it is impossible that there can be 
 agreement in gender of nouns or of pronouns. 
 The one case of English nouns, the possessive. 
 
THE GRAMMARLESS TONGUE. 323 
 
 is equally without power in the sentence, upon the 
 structure of. which it has no effect whatever. It 
 merely expresses possession, and its power, confined 
 to that expression, "governs" nothing, requires 
 nothing, " agrees " with nothing. The reason of 
 this is, that English adjectives and participles are 
 without case, as they are without number and with- 
 out gender. In Latin every word qualifying a 
 noun in the genitive or possessive case, or closely 
 related to it, must be also in that case. Thus we 
 see upon the title-pages of the classics, sentences 
 crammed with genitives like the following : Albii 
 Tibulli, Equitis Romani Elegiarum aliorumque Car- 
 minum, Libri IV. ad optimos codices emendati, 
 cura Reverendissimi, Doctissimi, Sanctissimi Caroli 
 Bensonis ; that is, Four books of the Elegies and 
 other poems of Albus Tibuilus, a Roman knight, 
 restored according to the best manuscripts, by the 
 care of the most reverend, learned, and holy Carl 
 Benson. Here, in Latin, because Tibuilus is in 
 the genitive or possessive case, the w r ords meaning 
 Roman and knight must also be in that case ; so 
 with the word meaning other, because that mean- 
 ing poems is in the genitive ; and of course so with 
 those meaning most reverend, most learned, and 
 most holy, that these may agree with Carl Benson. 
 This is syntax or grammatical construction. We Eng- 
 lish folk have burst all those bonds of speech forever. 
 It must have been with some reference to this 
 topic that Lindley Murray has vexed the souls of 
 generations by proclaiming as the tenth law of 
 English grammar, that " One substantive governs 
 another signifying a different thing in the possessive 
 case." Trulv an awful and a mysterious utterance. 
 
324 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 It is about substantives and the possessive case ; but 
 what about them? I can believe that the Apoca- 
 lypse is to be understood — hereafter ; I will under- 
 take to parse " Sordello " — for a consideration ; but 
 I admit that before the Yankee Quaker's tenth law 
 I sit dumbfounded. I cannot begin, or hope to 
 begin, to understand it, or believe that it has been, 
 is, or will be understood by any man. 
 
 The assertion that it is a law of the English lan- 
 guage that conjunctions connect the same' moods 
 and tenses of verbs, may be confuted by. a single 
 example to the contrary, such as, " I desire, and 
 have pursued virtue, and should have been re- 
 warded, if men were just." This sentence is good 
 English ; and yet in it the conjunction and connects 
 what are, according to Murray and the other Eng- 
 lish grammarians, two moods and three tenses. 
 
 But I must bring this chapter to an end; and I 
 may well do so, having shown my readers that 
 government, and agreement, and apposition, and 
 gender have no place in the construction of the 
 English sentence, that tense is confined to the 
 necessary distinction between what is passing, or 
 may pass, and what has passed, and case, to the 
 simple expression of possession. This being the 
 condition of the English language, grammar, in 
 the usual sense of the word, — i. e., syntax accord- 
 ing to etymology, — is impossible ; for inflected 
 forms and the consequent relations of words are the 
 conditions, sine qua 11011 , of grammar. In speaking 
 or writing English, we have only to choose the right 
 words and put them into the right places, respecting 
 no laws but those of reason, conforming to no order 
 but that which we call " logical. " 
 
THE GRAMMARLESS TONGUE. 325 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 The views set forth in " The Grammarless Tongue " 
 as to the English verb have met with an opposition which 
 I looked for, and which, indeed, has been less general 
 and violent than I expected it would be ; for the reason, 
 I am inclined to think, that the article in question had 
 the good fortune to express the opinions to which many 
 silent and unprofessional thinkers on language — among 
 whom I was until I began these articles — - had been led, 
 independently of authority, and by the mere force of right 
 reason. 
 
 My assertion that the English verb has but two tenses, 
 that it generally does not agree with the nominative in num- 
 ber and person, and the like, bring upon me the charge, 
 not of error, but of blundering, misstatement, ignorance, 
 and impertinent self-assertion. (I take some pleasure in 
 the recapitulation.) As to the general non-agreement 
 of the English verb with its nominative case, it is too 
 manifest to need a word of argument. And as to whether 
 a man in taking this position may justly be held guilty 
 of ignorant and impertinent self-assertion, I cite the fol- 
 lowing passage from Sir John Stoddart's " Universal 
 Grammar." 
 
 "The expression of Number is another accidental property of 
 the verb, and belongs to it only in so far as the verb may be com- 
 bined with the expression of person. . . . The verb is equally 
 said to be in the singular or plural whether it has or has not 
 distinct terminations appropriated to those different numbers ; 
 we call I love singular, and we love plural; but it is manifest 
 that in all such instances the expression of number exists only 
 i?i the pronoun" — p. 155. 
 
 Now, it is the calling of things what they are not, in 
 order that the terminology of English Grammar may 
 
326 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 correspond to that of the Greek and Latin languages, 
 that I think pernicious. 
 
 Upon some of the points in question, I cite the follow- 
 ing passages from Crombie's " Etymology and Syntax of 
 the English Language." Dr. Crombie, an Oxford Doctor 
 of Laws, and a Fellow of the Royal Society, is one of 
 the profoundest, and closest, and least pedantic thinkers 
 that have written on our subject ; and his work (from 
 the third and last edition of which — London, 1830 — I 
 quote), was made a text-book for the class of English 
 literature in the London University. Dr. Crombie is 
 examining the argument of an English grammarian, 
 which is to this effect. If that only is a tense which in 
 one inflected word expresses an affirmation with time, 
 we should in English have but two tenses, the present 
 and past in the active verb, and in the passive no tenses 
 at all, — the very position that I have taken. " But," the 
 writer, Dr. Beattie, adds, " this is a needless nicety, and, if 
 adopted, would introduce confusion into the grammatical 
 art. If amaveram be a tense, why should not amatus 
 Jueram? If I heard be a tense, I did hear, I have 
 heard, and I shall hear must be equally entitled to that 
 appellation." This argument Crombie thus sets aside : — 
 
 " How simplicity can introduce confusion I am unable to com- 
 prehend, unless we are to affirm that the introduction of Greek 
 and Latin names, to exfress nonentities in our language, is 
 necessary to illustrate the grammar and simplify the study of 
 the language to the English scholar. . . . Nay, further, if it be 
 a needless nicety to admit those only as tenses which are formed 
 by inflection, is it not equally a needless nicety to admit those 
 cases only which are formed by varying the termination? And 
 if confusion be introduced by denying / had heard to be a tense, 
 why does not the learned author simplify the doctrine of English 
 nouns by giving them six cases — a king, of a king, to or for a 
 king, a king, O king, with, from, in, or by a king f This, surely, 
 would be to perplex, not to simplify. In short, the inconsistency 
 of those grammarians who deny that to be a case which is not 
 formed by inflection, yet would load us with moods and tenses 
 
THE GRAMMARLESS TONGUE. 327 
 
 not formed by change of termination, is so palpable as to require 
 neither illustration nor argument to oppose it. . . . Why do not 
 these gentlemen favor us with a dual number, with a middle 
 voice, and with an optative mood ? Nay, as they are so fond of 
 tenses as to lament that we rob them of all but two, why do they 
 not enrich us with a first and second aorist and a paulo post fu- 
 ture?" (pp. 118, 119.) "Whether amatus fueram be or be not 
 a tense is the very point in question ; and so far am I from ad- 
 mitting the affirmative as unquestionable, that I contend it has 
 no more claim to the designation of these than loopai Ttr<J>ws — no 
 more claim than amandum est mihi, amari oportet, or amandus 
 sum have to be called moods. Here I must request the reader to 
 bear in mind the necessary distinction between the grammar of 
 a language and its capacity of expression. . . . Why not give, 
 as English cases, to a king, of a king, with a king, etc. ? The 
 mode is certainly applicable, whatever may be the consequences of 
 that application. A case surely is as easily formed by a noun and 
 a preposition as a tense by a participle and an auxiliary." (p. 121.) 
 " What should we think of that person's discernment who should 
 contend that the Latins had an optative mood because utinam 
 legeres signifies, I wish you would read? It is equally absurd to 
 say that we have an imperfect, preterpluperfect, or future tense ; 
 or that we have all the Greek varieties of mood, and two voices, 
 because by the aid of auxiliary words and definitive terms we 
 contrive to express these accidents, times, or states of being. I 
 consider, therefore, that we have no more cases, moods, tenses, or 
 voices in our language — as far as its grammar, not its capacity 
 of expression, is concerned — than we have variety of termina- 
 tion to denote these different accessory ideas." — p. 127, 128. 
 
 But upon this point I cite also the following passage 
 from a yet higher authority, — Bosworth, — in the front 
 rank of the Anglo-Saxon and English scholars of the 
 world, who speaks as follows upon the subject, at p. 189 
 of the Introduction to his Anglo-Saxon Dictionary. The 
 passage, it will be seen, touches what I have said, and 
 upon voices and cases as well as upon tenses. 
 
 "What is generally termed the passive voice has no existence 
 in Anglo-Saxon, any more than in modern English. The Anglo- 
 Saxons wrote, he is Ivfod, he is loved. Here is is the indicative 
 indefinite of the neuter verb tvesan, and lufod, loved, is the past 
 participle of the verb lufian, to love. In parsing, every word 
 
328 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 should be considered a distinct part of speech. To a king- is not 
 called a dative case in English, as regi in Latin, because the Eng- 
 lish phrase is not formed by inflection, but by the auxiliary words 
 to a. If auxiliaries do not form cases in English nouns, why 
 should they be allowed to form various tenses and a passive 
 voice either in the English, or in its parent, the Saxon? Thus, 
 Ic maeg beon lufod, I may be loved, instead of being called the 
 potential mood passive, maeg is more rationally considered a 
 verb in the indicative mood, indefinite tense, first singular, beon 
 the neuter verb in the infinitive mood after the verb maeg ; lufod 
 is the perfect participle of the verb lufian." 
 
 This view is exactly the same, it will be seen, as that 
 wdiich is taken of the subject by Crombie ; and, indeed, 
 it is hard for me to understand how any man of common 
 sense, who thinks for himself, can take any other. Bos- 
 worth here supports the main position taken in " The 
 Grammarless Tongue," which is in effect, to use Bos- 
 worth's words, that in analyzing the English sentence " ev- 
 ery word should be considered a distinct part of speech ; " 
 every word, auxiliary verbs as well as auxiliary preposi- 
 tions, as he regards them in his analysis of what English 
 grammarians call the first person singular, present in- 
 dicative, potential mood, passive voice of the verb to 
 love — 7" may be loved. That is the point of this 
 whole question. 
 
 Against the position taken in the foregoing chapter 
 as to the so-called tenses which are formed. by the union 
 of a verb and a participle, — that the verb retains its 
 proper meaning ; e. g., that in I have loved, have ex- 
 presses possession, — a position impregnable, I think, to 
 argument, — two of my critics have directed the shafts of 
 feeble ridicule. One says, " He, therefore, who has 
 loved, has, in his possession, an abstract completed action, 
 bearing the name ' loved.' Such a person may well be 
 excused for inquiring with some anxiety what he shall 
 do with it." Another flouts the pretensions of a man 
 who dared to write about language, and yet " thought 
 that a participle could be the object to a verb." 
 
THE GRAMMARLESS TONGUE. 329 
 
 Now, in the first place, Bosworth's dictum — say- 
 rather his primal law of English construction — that, in 
 parsing, every word should be regarded as a distinct 
 part of speech, covers this ground entirely. The case 
 of a verb followed by a participle is no more than any 
 other excluded from the operation of that law, which, 
 indeed, as we have seen, Bosworth himself illustrates 
 by an analysis of the so-called tense / may be loved. 
 What I have written upon this point is therefore merely 
 an expression and particular enforcement of a general 
 law recognized by the facile princeps of British Anglo- 
 Saxon scholars. But I am not left without a particular 
 justification of my view of the relation of the auxiliary 
 verb to its participle. Dr. Crombie, explaining the 
 difference between the tenses which some grammarians 
 have called the preterite definite, I have written, and 
 the preterite indefinite, I wrote, furnishes me with the fol- 
 lowing opinion in point : — 
 
 "When an action is done in a time continuous to the present 
 instant, we employ the auxiliary verb. Thus, on finishing a 
 letter, I say, I have written my letter, i. e., I possess (now) the 
 finished action of writing a letter. Again, when an action is 
 done in a space of time which the mind assumes as present, or 
 when we express our immediate possession of things done in that 
 space, we use the auxiliary verb. ' I have this week written sev- 
 eral letters,' I have iio~lv the perfectio?i of ■writi?zg several letters 
 finished this week. These phraseologies, as the author last 
 quoted justly observes, are harsh to the ear, and appear exceed- 
 ingly awkward ; but a little attention will suffice to show that 
 they correctly exhibit the ideas implied by the tense which we 
 have at present under consideration." — Etymology, etc., p. 166. 
 
 Upon the same subject, one of my critics has the fol- 
 lowing passage, which is useful in enabling me to illus- 
 trate my position : — 
 
 "All participles are adjectives, and cannot, without being 
 made substantives by the prefixing of the article, or in some 
 similar way, be used as objects to transitive verbs. We can, of 
 course, say, He posits the conditioned ; but we cannot say, He 
 
330 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 posits conditioned, or, He possesses conditioned. In the third 
 place, suppose we admit that a participle could be the object of 
 a transitive verb, and that / possess conditioned expressed what 
 we mean by I have conditioned ; is there not one respect in which 
 / have conditioned or I have loved differs from I have money? 
 We can certainly say I have loved the ocean; but can we also 
 say / have money the bank P I have hunted the fox does mean 
 something; I have a hunt the fox means nothing." 
 
 Clearly all participles are adjectives when they are 
 predicated of the subject, or used to qualify a noun. 
 This is so obvious a truth that it hardly needs to be 
 asserted. Thus, in I am good and I am loved, good and 
 loved are equally adjectives, as in a bad man and a 
 hated man, bad and hated are also adjectives. But I 
 am not so sure that the prefixing of an article, or the like, 
 is the condition and sign of use as an object of a trans- 
 itive verb. I am overwhelmed with such a tremendous 
 illustration of the use of participles, as He posits the 
 conditioned. It takes me back, however, to the days 
 when Tappan and Henry led my youthful steps through 
 the flowery paths, and fed my downy lips with the sweet 
 and succulent fruits of metapheezic. Of this experience 
 I retain sufficient memory to admit, with shame and con- 
 fusion of face, that we can say, He posits the conditioned, 
 and that we cannot say, He posits conditioned, or He 
 possesses conditioned. But when, stepping down from 
 the sublime of the conditioned, I reflect that although we 
 may say of Paddy, He bolts the pratie, we may not say, 
 He bolts pratie* or, He possesses pratie, and yet that we 
 may say, He bolts praties, and even, He likes bolting 
 praties, I am comforted. I admit that although we may 
 say, I have loved the ocean, we may not say, I have 
 money the bank, unless we would talk nonsense. But 
 that is because loved the ocean, which in one case is the 
 object of the verb have, is sense, and money the bank, 
 which is its object in the other case, is not sense. As a 
 phrase or sentence may be the subject vf a verb, so it 
 
THE GRAMMARLESS TONGUE. 33 1 
 
 mav be its object. For example, in the sentence. He 
 likes bolting, the participle, although no article is pre- 
 fixed to it, is the object of the transitive verb likes; but 
 in the more complex, fully-developed, and well-rounded 
 sentence, He likes bolti?ig praties, the object of the verb 
 is bolting praties. 
 
 I have called English the grammarless tongue ; but it 
 merits that distinction only because it excels in its supe- 
 riority to inflections, and its regard for the logical se- 
 quence of thought, all other languages of civilized Chris- 
 tendom. Compared with Greek and Latin, the French, 
 Italian, and Spanish languages, and even the German, 
 may be called grammarless. Indeed , the tendency to 
 the laying aside of inflections showed itself early in the 
 Latin tongue, in the very Augustan period of which we 
 find in the best writers the germ of our method of ex- 
 pressing action in combination with the idea of time, by 
 the use of the verbs signifying existence and possession, 
 in combination with participles. Cicero, instead of De 
 Caesare satis dixi, said, " De Caesare satis dictum habeo " 
 — I have said enough of Caesar ; and Caesar himself 
 wrote, " copias quas habebat paratas" instead of para- 
 verat — the forces which he had prepared.* Now, will 
 any one pretend that when Cicero said habeo dictum — 
 I have said, he used the word habeo without the idea of 
 possession, and yet that he used it with that idea when 
 he said habeo pomum — I have an apple? I think no 
 one will do so who is competent to write on language at 
 all ; and should there be such a person, I confess at once 
 that I cannot argue with him. We do not approach 
 each other near enough to clash. And as to the ques- 
 tions whether English verbs have real tenses, and what 
 is the force of " auxiliary " verbs in all cases, I shall leave 
 them without further discussion, merely giving my readers 
 an example upon which to ruminate. If I shall have 
 
 * These examples I find to my hand, among others of the same sort, in Brachet : s 
 "Grammaire Historique de la Langue Francaise." 
 
33 2 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 followed is a tense, the future perfect tense of the verb 
 to follow, in which the verb shall does not express futu- 
 rity, and the verb have does not express possession, what 
 becomes of that tense, and what is the meaning of those 
 verbs, when, instead of saying, I shall have followed him 
 so long to-morrow, we say, I shall to-morrow have fol- 
 lowed him so long, or, I shall to-morrow have so long 
 followed him, or, I shall have so long followed him to- 
 morrow? If a tense may be split in pieces and scattered 
 about in this way, and its component parts, each of them 
 a word in constant and independent use, may retain in 
 their divided condition the same modified meaning or 
 lack of meaning which they have in combination, it 
 would seem that the construction of English, according 
 to the grammarians, is so absolved from the laws of rea- 
 son, which hold on all other subjects, that any discus- 
 sion of it in conformity with those laws must be en- 
 tirely superfluous and from the purpose. 
 
 A volume like this is not the place for controversy, 
 even were 1 inclined thereto ; but I will notice one or 
 two of the remarks elicited by the foregoing chapter 
 from writers who, I am sorry tosay, were not pretentious 
 ignoramuses, but men of sense and some philological 
 acquirement, because these examples will show the style 
 and temper of even the ablest of my opponents. One 
 of them sneered at the views set forth in that chapter, 
 because, among other things, they were those of a man 
 who " could make reHxpofiui, a future perfect," meaning, I 
 shall have been beaten. As to this point, I cite the fol- 
 lowing passages from a grammarian of authority: — 
 
 "The third future, or paulo post future, of the passive in 
 respect to signification (§ 139), and form is derived from the 
 perfect passive, of which it retains the augment, substituting 
 conat for the termination of the perfect passive. It is therefore 
 only necessary to take the ending of the second person perfect 
 passive in aai (4>ai, |«<)< anc ^ change the ai into opai — TfrvjAnai (rerv- 
 ipai), TZTv^ojAai." — Buttman, § 99. 
 
 "The third, or paulo post future, is properly, both in form 
 and in signification, compounded from the perfeci and future. 
 
THE GRAMAMRLESS TONGUE. 333 
 
 It places what is past or concluded in the future; e. £-., fj Trohrcia 
 
 te?.{ws KCKoent'iaETai iav b toiovtos avTtjv iiriGKOTrrj (pv?.a^ — The City will have 
 
 been perfectly organized if such a watchman oversee it; i. e., 
 disposita erit, not disJ>onettir." — Ibidem, § 139. 
 
 This is Greek, as I learned it. I do not pretend to 
 write a new Cratylus, or profess to be able to do so. 
 
 Another of my censors is facetiously severe upon a 
 man who ventures to write on language, and yet himself 
 uses such phrases as "a young-eyed cherubin," and 
 " poning the gutter." This writer, although he figured 
 in the Philological Convention at Poughkeepsie, seems 
 not to know that cherubin came into our language from 
 the Italian cherubino, and that until a very late period 
 the form cherub was not known. And as to the par- 
 ticular phrase I used, if my very scornful censor will 
 take a poor mariner's advice, and overhaul his little 
 Shakespeare, he will find, in a passage famous (among 
 the ignorant) for its beauty, the following lines : — 
 
 " There's not the smallest orb which thou beholdest 
 But in his motion like an angel sings, 
 Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins." 
 
 Merchant of Venice, V. 1. 
 
 Now, if very learned and scornful professors of phi- 
 lology will not, before criticising a poor layman like me, 
 and before figuring at philological conventions, make them- 
 selves acquainted with such familiar passages of poetry as 
 this, why, all the worse for — me and for Shakespeare. 
 
 As to " poning the gutter," that is a city boy's name for 
 a city boy's amusement. In winter, when a hard frost has 
 filled the gutters with ice, boys make slides on them, 
 and as they dash down the slide and run up again to take 
 a start from the head, they cry out one to another, " Pon 
 the gutter." Therefore, although the origin of the first 
 word is unknown to me, I said of my young-eyed cher- 
 ubin, that " five years ago he, rustic, was milking the 
 cow, or urban, was poning the gutter." 
 
 With this answer I shall leave my critics in charge of 
 my reputation, and their own. 
 
334 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 IS BEING DONE. 
 
 TO a man who has reached what Dante calls 
 the middle of the journey of our life, nothing in 
 the outside world is more remarkable than the un- 
 conscious freedom with which people ten or fifteen 
 years younger than himself adopt new fashions and 
 fangles of dress, of manners, and of speech, except, 
 perhaps, their persistence in these novelties after 
 the absurdity thereof has been fully set forth and 
 explained. His difficulty is, that for a long time 
 he does not see — does not unless he combines, un- 
 usually, quickness of penetration and readiness of 
 reflection — that what seems so new and strange to 
 him seems to younger people neither strange nor 
 new. The things are new, indeed, to them, but 
 only in that they are not yet old ; they are not nov- 
 elties that disturb their peace as they disturb his. 
 He wonders that that beautiful girl of seventeen goes 
 about in public unconcerned, and in fact almost 
 unnoticed, — that is the strangest feature of the 
 case, — in such amazing apparel as would ten years 
 ago have made her mother the laughing-stock of the 
 whole town, and which yet she wears as calmly as 
 if from Eve's day down the sex had known no other 
 
IS BEING DONE. 335 
 
 garments. Why should she not? The fashion of 
 to-day is" all that she knows of fashion, and she 
 cares to know no more, except for the sake of 
 curiosity. All the rest is to her in the keeping of 
 history, where she may, perhaps, in an idle mo- 
 ment, look at it, and find it food for wonder or for 
 laughter. In it there is nought to her of personal 
 concern. 
 
 When does a fashion cease to be new? When 
 does it become old? when obsolete? Before these 
 questions can be answered, we must know the 
 measure of time used by him who asks them. 
 What would be new to a young elephant of thirty 
 or forty years would be old to an aged cony of nine 
 or ten ; what to the butterfly of a meadow and a 
 summer would date from the beginning of all things, 
 would hardly be a memory to an eagle that had 
 soared for half a century above half a continent. 
 What is new to one man may be old to men only 
 five years younger than he, and to men ten years 
 younger, obsolete. Few truths are more difficult 
 of apprehension than this, apparently so obvious. 
 Few mental faculties are rarer than that which gives 
 to a mature man the prompt, intuitive recognition of 
 the fact that there are human beings whose opinions 
 and habits, if not worthy of consideration, must yet 
 be considered, to whom that which is to him a part 
 of the present is not merely unfamiliar, but shut out 
 among the things of the past as completely as the 
 siege of Troy, or the building of the Pyramids. 
 Five thousand years ago, five hundred, fifty, five — 
 what is the difference as to that which is beyond 
 the grasp of consciousness, out of the record of ex- 
 perience ? 
 
336 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 This elasticity of the standard by which the new is 
 measured, is in no respect more worthy of consider- 
 ation than in that of language. Unless a man is a 
 monster of pedantry and priggishness, — and, in- 
 deed, not then, — the words and the forms of speech 
 he uses are not made, or even chosen, by himself. 
 The first condition of language — that it shall be a 
 means of communication between men — forbids the 
 near approach to a vocabulary or a construction 
 which is, even in part, the work or the choice of any 
 one man. As we get our food and our breath from 
 the earth and the air around us, so we get our lan- 
 guage from our neighbors — not the language in 
 which we work out and discuss questions in science, 
 in art, or in letters, but that which serves the needs 
 of our daily life. A little comes to us from abroad ; 
 but this is mere spicery, much of which is neither 
 wholesome nor appetizing. 
 
 A fastidious precisian in language might carry 
 his nicety so far as to leave himself almost speech- 
 less. A man must speak the language of his peo- 
 ple and his time. As to the first, there can be no 
 doubt; but what is his time? Generally, to-day. 
 If A hears B use a word or a phrase to-day which, 
 although it is entirely new to him, has a meaning 
 that he readily apprehends, and that saves trouble, 
 and "will do," he will use it himself, if he has need, 
 to-morrow. And so it will go on from mouth to 
 mouth, until within a year it may pervade a neigh- 
 borhood ; and in these days of railways and news- 
 papers, a year or two may spread it over a whole 
 country. The child that was in the cradle when 
 the new word first was spoken, on going to school 
 
IS BEING DONE. 337 
 
 finds it a part of the common speech. For that 
 child it is neither new nor old ; it simply is. And 
 that impression of its far-off, unknown origin — for 
 K I am " expresses the eternal — the child will carry 
 through life, although he may afterward learn that 
 it was new when he first heard it. But to him 
 who was a man when the word came in, and who 
 reflects at all upon the language that he uses, 
 it will always have upon it the stamp of newness, 
 because it is one of the things of which he remem- 
 bers the beginning. 
 
 In bad eminence, at the head of those intruders 
 in language which to many persons seem to be of 
 established respectability, but the right of which 
 to be at all is not yet fully admitted, stands out the 
 form of speech is being done, or rather, is beiiig, 
 which, about fifty years ago, as I infer, began to 
 affront the eye, torment the ear, and assault the 
 common sense of the speaker of plain and idiomatic 
 English. That it should be pronounced a novelty 
 will seem strange to most of my readers ; for we 
 have all heard it from our earliest childhood. But 
 so slow has been its acceptance among unlettered 
 people, so stoutly has it been resisted by the let- 
 tered, that we have heard it under constant protest ; 
 yet it is so much used, and seems to suit so well the 
 mental tone of those who now do most to mould the 
 common speech, that to check its diffusion would be 
 a hopeless undertaking. But to examine it may be 
 worth our w r hile, for the sake of a lesson in language. 
 
 Mr. Marsh says of this form of speech, that it is 
 "an awkward neologism, which neither conven- 
 ience, intelligibility, nor syntactical congruity de- 
 
 22 
 
33$ - WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 mands," and that it is the contrivance of som 
 grammarian. But that it is the work of any gram- 
 marian is more than doubtful. Grammarians, with 
 all their faults, do not deform language with fan-* 
 tastic solecisms, or even seek to enrich it with new 
 and startling verbal combinations. They rather 
 resist novelty, and devote themselves to formulating 
 that which use has already established. It can 
 hardly be that such an incongruous and ridiculous 
 form of speech as is being done was contrived by a 
 man who, by any stretching of the name, should be 
 included among grammarians. But, nevertheless, 
 it is a worthy offspring of English grammar ; a 
 fitting, and, I may say, an inevitable consequence 
 of the attempt to make our mother tongue order 
 herself by Latin rules and standards. Some pre- 
 cise and feeble-minded soul, having been taught 
 that there is a passive voice in English, and that, 
 for instance, building is an active participle, and 
 builded or built a passive, felt conscientious scruples 
 at saying, The house is building. For what could 
 the house build? A house cannot build ; it must be 
 built. And yet to say, The house is built, is to say 
 (I speak for him), that it is finished, that it is 
 " done built." Therefore we must find some form 
 that will be a continuing present tense of this pas- 
 sive verb to be built ; and he found it, as he thought, 
 in the form is being built ; supposing that, by the 
 introduction of the present participle, expressive of 
 continued existence, between is and built, he had 
 modified the meaning both of the former and the 
 latter. Others, like him, half taught and badly 
 taught, precise and fussy, caught up the t -'irc. ' 
 
IS BEING DONE. 339 
 
 which seemed to them to supply a deficiency in their 
 passive voice, and so the infection spread over Eng- 
 land, and ere long into this republic. It was con- 
 fined, however, to the condition of life in which it 
 had its origin. Simple-minded common people and 
 those of culture were alike protected against it 
 by their attachment to the idiom of their mother 
 tongue, with which they felt it to be directly at 
 variance. 
 
 To this day there is not, in the Old England or 
 the New, a farmer's boy who has escaped the 
 contamination of popular weekly papers, who would 
 not say, While the new barn was a-building, unless 
 some prim schoolma'am had taught him to say, 
 was being built ; and, at the other extreme of 
 culture, Macaulay writes, " Chelsea Hospital was 
 building," "While innocent blood was shedding," 
 " While the foulest judicial murder that had dis- 
 graced even those times was perpetrating." 
 
 Mr. Dickens writes (Sergeant Buzfuz's speech), 
 "The train was preparing." In the "Atlantic 
 Monthly" for May, 1869, I find, "Another flank 
 movement was making, but thus far with little 
 effect ; " and in the " Brooklyn Eagle " for June 13, 
 1869," St. Ann's Church, which has been building 
 for nearly two years on the corner of Livington 
 and Clinton Streets." I cite these miscellaneous 
 writers to show modern and common usage, mean- 
 ing to set up neither the "Brooklyn Eagle" nor 
 Mr. Dickens as a very high authority in the use of 
 language. 
 
 And thus, to go no farther back than the Eliza- 
 b^thar period, Bishop Jewel wrote, " Some other 
 
34° WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 there be that see and know that the Church of God 
 is now a building, and yet, not onely refrain them- 
 selves from the worke, but also spurne downe that 
 other men have built up." (Sermons, Ed. 1583, 
 fol. F. vii.) "After the Temple was buylded, or 
 was in building, and rearing, Esdras the prophet 
 read the Law of God." {Idem. G. vi.) And 
 Bishop Hall, "While my body is dressing, not with 
 an effeminate curiosity, nor yet with rude neglect, 
 my mind addresses herself to her ensuing task ; " 
 and Shakespeare, 
 
 •" and when he thinks, good easy man, 
 His greatness is a-ripening." 
 
 Henry VIII. 
 
 Thus Milton wrote, "While the Temple of the 
 Lord was building;" Bolingbroke, "The nation 
 had cried out loudly against the crime which was 
 committing ; " and Johnson wrote to Bosweir, 
 "My 'Lives' are reprinting." Hence we see that 
 the form is being done, is being made, is being 
 built, lacks the support of authoritative usage from 
 the period of the earliest classical English to the 
 present day. This, however, it might do without 
 if it were consistent with reason, and conformed 
 to the normal development of the language, else 
 there would be no growth of language. But this 
 consistency and conformity it lacks. Let us see 
 w r hy and how. 
 
 The condition sought to be expressed by is being 
 done is not new in any sense. It is neither a new 
 shade of thought nor a new-born idea. On the 
 contrary, it is one of the first conditions that need 
 expression. It has been expressed in many Ian- 
 
IS BEING DONE. 34I 
 
 guages from remote ages, and very completely in 
 English for centuries. The phrase is at best 
 merely a new name for an old thing already well 
 named. Those who use it seem to me to disregard 
 the fitness of the forms of speech by which the 
 thought which they would present has been uttered 
 by our best writers and speakers. For example, 
 Hamlet says to the king, of the slain Polonius, that 
 the latter is at supper, " not where he eats, but 
 where he is eaten ; " and the words fully express — 
 there has never been a doubt suggested by the most 
 microscopic commentator that they express just 
 what Hamlet meant, that the eating of Polonius 
 was going on at the time then present. " Is eaten " 
 does not mean has been eaten uf. It is in the 
 present tense, and expresses what has been called 
 "the continuous recipience of action," as much 
 as I eat expresses continuous action. Hamlet goes 
 on to say, " A certain convocation of politic worms 
 are e'en at him." So Hotspur says, — 
 
 " Why, look you, I am -whip fid and scourg'd with rods, 
 Nettled and stung with pismires when I hear 
 Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke." 
 
 It was not necessary for Hotspur, although he spoke 
 of time present, to say, " I am being whipped, 
 being scourged, being nettled, being stung, when I 
 hear," or for Hamlet to say that Polonius was being 
 eaten, although the worms were at him while the 
 prince was speaking. 
 
 It will be of some interest to observe how this idea 
 has been expressed in various languages, including 
 English. It may be, and has been, expressed, both 
 participially and verbally. In the New Testament 
 
342 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 (i Peter iii. 20) there is the following passage in 
 
 the Original : iv -^fiegaig JV&e, xa'caaxEva'Qo/Ltevrjg xifiwTOv, 
 
 which, in our English version, is translated thus: 
 "In the days of Noah, while the ark was a-frefar- 
 ing" Here the last clause represents the Greek 
 passive participle present used absolutely with the 
 substantive, according to the Greek idiom. In the 
 translation of 1582 we find, "when the ark was 
 a-building;" in that of 1557, "while the ark was 
 frefaring ;" but in Wycliffe's translation, made 
 about A. D. 1380, "In the days of Noe, when the 
 ship was made" The last form, which corre- 
 sponds to Hamlet's " not where he eats, but where 
 he is eaten" represents the imperfect subjunctive 
 passive, "cum fabricaretur area" of the Vulgate, 
 from which Wycliffe made his translation. In the 
 account of the building of Solomon's temple is an- 
 other passage (1 Kings vi. 7), which serves in 
 illustration : "And the house, when it was in build- 
 ing, was built of stone made ready before it was 
 brought thither ; so that there was neither hammer, 
 nor axe, nor any tool of iron heard in the house 
 while it was in building" Here, "when it was in 
 building" is represented in the Septuagint version 
 by iv tu oixodofteiod<u avibv (the infinitive passive), 
 and in the Vulgate by " cum cedijicaretur " — again 
 the imperfect subjunctive passive. The German 
 translation gives in the first instance, "da man die 
 archa zurilstete" when they prepared or fitted out 
 the ark ; in the second, " und da das haus gesetzt 
 ward" and when the house was founded ; at the 
 end of the verse, " in building " of the English ver- 
 sion has its exact counterpart in " im bauen." The 
 
IS BEING DONE. 343 
 
 French version gives, in the first instance, " pendant 
 que Varche se bdtissoit," which, according to the 
 French idiom, is, while the ark was built; and in 
 the second instance, both at the beginning and the 
 end of the verse, en bdiissant la maison, that is, in 
 building the house. In the Italian version we find, 
 in one passage, " quando la casa fh edificata," 
 which is, literally, when the house was built; and 
 "mentre s' edificava" while it built itself, an idiomatic 
 form for while it was built; and in the other, ac- 
 cording to the same idiom, " mentre s' apparecchia- 
 va V archa," while the ark was prepared. Now, all 
 these versions express the same facts completely, 
 not only each one of them to those to whom the 
 respective languages are vernacular, but com- 
 pletely to every man who has acquired a knowl- 
 edge of all these tongues ; and in all of them we 
 find either the verbal substantive form, was in build- 
 ing, was a-preparing, was -preparing, or the 
 imperfect verbal form, was built, was prepared. 
 In no one of them, not even in the Greek with its 
 present passive participle, is there an approach to 
 such a phraseology as is being done, is being built, 
 which in Latin, for instance, could be represented 
 only by the use of the obsolete participle present 
 ens, and the monstrous construction ens f actus est, 
 ens cedijicatus est. 
 
 In the form is a-doing, is a-making, the a is a 
 mere degraded form of on or in ; as in ten o'clock 
 o' represents of the. Such words as doing and 
 making are both participles and verbal nouns. 
 When we say, I am doing thus, I am making this, 
 they are real participles. When we say, It was 
 
344 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 long in the doing, It was slow in the making, they 
 are verbal nouns. For example, in the following 
 passage from Ascham's " Schoolmaster," it is plain 
 that weeping, learning, and misliking, are nouns 
 no less than grief, trouble, and fear : — 
 
 " And when I am called from him I fall on weeping, because 
 whatever I do else but learning is full of grief, trouble, and fear, 
 and whole misliking unto me." 
 
 So in the following passage from Barrow (Ser- 
 mon XIII.), on going, which we nowadays cut 
 down into a-going, is as much a noun as rest is in 
 " put at rest : " — 
 
 " Speech is indeed the rudder that steereth human affairs, the 
 spring that setteth the wheels of action on going." 
 
 In the Anglo-Saxon, the participle and the verbal 
 noun were distinguished in fact and in form ; the 
 participle ending in ende, the verbal noun in ung. 
 In the lapse of time, and by the simplifying pro- 
 cess which I have before mentioned, these two ter- 
 minations were blended in the form ing, which 
 represents them both. Hence has arisen the diffi- 
 culty of those precise people who were not content 
 to speak their mother tongue as they learned it from 
 their mothers, and who undertook, not only to crit- 
 icise, but to take to pieces and put together in a 
 new shape, something the structure of which they 
 did not understand. If, in their trouble about the 
 active present participle, they had looked into Ben 
 Jonson's Grammar (for he, like Milton, was 
 scholar as well as poet, and both were misled, very 
 naturally, into writing an English Grammar), they 
 would have seen that he said that, " Before the 
 
IS BEING DONE. 345 
 
 participle present, a, an, have the force of a ger- 
 und ; " and a gerund, they might have learned, 
 was a Latin verbal noun (taking its name from 
 gero, I bear, I carry on), used to express the 
 meaning of the present infinitive active, under cer- 
 tain circumstances. Jonson cites, in illustration of 
 his law, this line from Norton, " But there is some 
 grand tempest a-brewing towards us," which they 
 would have done well to consider before making 
 their improvement ; for I think that, even now, one 
 of their sort would hesitate to look up into a lower- 
 ing sky, and say, There is a storm being brewed. 
 He would be laughed at by any sensible Cape Cod 
 fisherman or English countess. To this day we 
 say, — every man and boy of us who jis not fitter 
 for Bedlam than many who are sent there, — There 
 is a storm a-brewing, as our forefathers have said 
 for centuries. So, in "The Merchant of Venice " 
 (Act II., Scene 5), Shylock says to Jessica, — 
 
 " I am right loath to go : 
 There is some ill a-brewing toward my rest; 
 For I did dream of money-bags to-night." 
 
 This a, which represents in, is said, by Mr. 
 Marsh, to have been dropped (by writers, I sup- 
 pose he means) about the beginning of the eigh- 
 teenth century. It might better not have been 
 dropped at all ; but it began to disappear before 
 that time. Witness this passage in Cotton's trans- 
 lation of Montaigne's Essays, a masterpiece of 
 idiomatic English, which was produced about the 
 year 1670 : — 
 
 "A slave of his, a vicious ill-conditioned fellow, but that had 
 the precepts of philosophy often ringing in his ears, having, for 
 
346 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 some offence of his, been stript, by Plutarch's command, whilst 
 he was %vkt'ppi?zg muttered at first that he did not deserve it, etc., 
 etc." — Book II. " Of Anger." 
 
 That the suppression of the a is a loss will be 
 clear, from consideration of this example. It is un- 
 deniable, that the phrase "whilst he was whipping" 
 might be misunderstood as meaning, while the 
 he was whipping a him. Its meaning is deter- 
 mined only by the context. But so is the meaning 
 of nearly half the words in any sentence. If, 
 however, Cotton had written " whilst he was a- 
 whipping," there would be no opportunity for the 
 mistaking of the verbal noun whipping for the 
 present participle whipping. The distinction be- 
 tween these two intimately-related parts of speech 
 may be clearly exemplified by the following sen- 
 tence : Plutarch was whipping a slave, and while 
 the slave was a-whipping he told his master that, 
 in this whipping, he set at nought his own moral 
 principles. Here no one can fail to see at once that 
 the first whipping is a participle, and that the last 
 is a noun ; and a moment's consideration will reveal 
 to any intelligent person that the second whipping 
 is also not a participle, but a verbal noun. If the a 
 in " a-whipping" were the article, that would de- 
 cide the question ; for the article, definite or indefi- 
 nite, can be used only with a substantive. This is 
 illustrated even b} r the phrase " a go," which is 
 sometimes heard ; for, when a gentleman remarks, 
 " Here is a rum go," without meaning any allusion 
 to spirituous liquors, or if, with such allusion, 
 speaks of "a go of gin," the anguish that he in- 
 flicts upon the well-regulated grammatical mind 
 
IS BEING DONE. 347 
 
 is caused merely by his placing the first person 
 present indicative of the verb to go in the relation 
 in which it can be properly parsed only as a noun. 
 But the a in the phrases, While the slave was a- 
 whipping, While the house was a-building, While 
 the thing was a-doing, is not the article, as I have 
 said before, but a mere corruption of in, or on, the 
 change of which to a was caused, clearly, by that 
 lazy carelessness of speech that tends so much 
 to the phonetic degradation of language. Either 
 on or in, however, determines the substantive char- 
 acter of the words to which it applies. As, for 
 example, if the gentleman just referred to speaks 
 of " going on a bust," the preposition, no less than 
 the article, shows that he is so reprobate, so lost to 
 Murray and to Moon, as to treat the verb burst as 
 if it were a noun ; and his omission of the r from 
 the perverted word is not only a striking instance 
 of the addition of insult to injury, but a warning 
 example of the phonetic degradation of language, 
 and of man. 
 
 The nature of this noun of action, and of the 
 simple, strong construction which it admits, is 
 finely shown in this pregnant passage from Hobbes 
 ("De Corpore Politico," Part II., chap. 2) : — 
 
 " In the making of a Democracy there passeth no covenant 
 between the sovereign and any subject; for, while the Democ- 
 racy is a-making, there is no sovereign with whom to contract." 
 
 Here the word making is, in both instances, the 
 same part of speech, the representative of the same 
 idea, and in the same relation ; and the writer who 
 would change the latter to, While the democracy is 
 being made, must also, that his language may not 
 
348 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 be at variance with itself in one sentence, change 
 the former, and read, In the being made of a de- 
 mocracy, or, what is the same thing, In a democ- 
 racy's being made. 
 
 The latter course of this idiom of in, on, or a- 
 with the verbal noun may be traced, and the period 
 of the concoction of is being may be determined 
 by a comparison of the heading of chapter xxii. 
 of " Don Quixote," as it appears in the principal 
 English translations. The original is as follows : — 
 
 " De la liberdad que dio don Quixote a muchos desdiehados 
 que mal de su grado los llevaban donde no quisieran yr." 
 
 Shelton, in 1652, rendered it thus: "Of the 
 liberty Don Quixote gave to many wretches who 
 were a-carrying perforce to a place they desired 
 not." Motteux, A. D. 17 19, gives, " How Don 
 Quixote set free many miserable creatures who 
 were carrying, much against their wills, to a place 
 they did not like." Jarvis, whose translation was 
 published in 1742, has it thus : " How Don Quixote 
 set at liberty several unfortunate persons who were 
 carrying much against their wills where they had 
 no wish to go." But in the edition of Jarvis's trans- 
 lation published A. D. 1818 "carrying" is changed 
 to " being carried." 
 
 This change, and the appearance of is being 
 with a perfect participle in a very few books pub- 
 lished between A. D. 1815 and 1820 indicate the 
 former period as that of the origin of this phrase- 
 ology, which, although more than half a century 
 old, is still pronounced a novelty as well as a nui- 
 sance. It made no little stir when it was first 
 
IS BEING DONE. 349 
 
 brought here, and it was adopted at once by many 
 people — of course those who wished to be elegant. 
 I have heard of an instance of its use, after it had 
 become in vogue among such people, which illus- 
 trates one of the objections to which it is obnoxious 
 — tliat it represents an act as going on (is being) 
 and as completed [done) at the same time. A 
 gentleman called early in the evening upon the la- 
 dies at a house where he was intimate. The door 
 was opened by a negress, a bright, pompous 
 wench, in one of the Madras kerchief head-dresses 
 commonly worn at that time by such women. She 
 needed not to wait for his inquiry for the ladies, 
 but welcomed him at once ; for he was a favored 
 guest. "Good evenin', sar ! Walk in, sar. De 
 ladies bein' done gone to de uproar." " Gone to 
 the opera ! Thank you, I won't come in. I'll see 
 them there." "No, sar, I didn't saydey done gone 
 to de uproar," but, with a slight toss of the Madras 
 kerchief and a smile of superior intelligence, " dey 
 bein' done gone. Walk in, sar. Ole missus in de 
 parlor ; young missus be down stairs d'recly." My 
 grandmother told me that story, which she heard 
 from the gentleman himself, in my boyhood, neither 
 of us thinking that it would be thus used to expose 
 the absurd affectation in speech at which she 
 laughed. From the negress's point of view, — that 
 is, the " done gone " point, she was as right in her 
 " bein' done gone " as those whose speech she aped 
 were in their " is being done," and " is being built." 
 To her, done gone expressed a going that was 
 finished, a completed going. But the ladies were 
 in process of going, not going or ' r gwine ; " that 
 
350 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 would have expressed an act too much in the future, 
 according to the new light she had seen cast upon 
 language ; and so she boldly dashed at her contin- 
 uing present of a completed action — " bein' done 
 gone." She was more nearly right in her practice 
 than some learned linguists are in their theory. 
 For the phrase under consideration is not a " con- 
 tinuing present of the passive voice." The parti- 
 ciples done, built, etc., are not passive, but merely 
 perfect participles, as we have seen before ; and 
 being is merely a present participle. The union 
 of the two, therefore, cannot express an existing 
 and continuing passivity ; it merely brings preposter- 
 ously together the ideas of the present and the past. 
 The combination of do and go by the mean 
 whites and the negroes of the South, chiefly in the 
 forms done gone and gone done, is not wholly il- 
 logical and absurd ; nor is it without something 
 like respectable precedent in English literature. 
 Witness these passages from Chaucer : — 
 
 " That ye unto your sonrie as trewlj 
 Done her been wedded at your home coming; 
 This is the final end of all this thing." 
 
 Legend of Good Women, 1. 2096. 
 
 " And I woll geve him all that fals 
 To his chamber and to his hals ; 
 I ■vcoll do faint with pure gold 
 And tapite hem full manifold." 
 
 The Duchess, 1. 257. 
 
 " Bid him creepe into the body 
 And do it gone to Alcione, 
 The queene, there she lieth alone." 
 
 Ibid., 1. 146. 
 
 And indeed the Southern provincial use of do and 
 go is capable of formulation into tenses, which, if it 
 
IS BEING DONE. 
 
 351 
 
 were not for the prejudice in favor of other — in 
 the present delicate condition of the country, I will 
 not say better — usage, might claim the attention, 
 and even the adhesion, of people like those who 
 adopt is being done — who shun an idiom as they 
 would be thought to shun a sin, and who must be 
 correct, or die. For example : — 
 
 INDICATIVE MOOD. 
 
 PRESENT AND IMPERFECT TENSE. 
 
 Singiilar. Plural. 
 
 1. I done, 1. We uns done, 
 
 2. Yer done, 2. You uns done, 
 
 3. He done, 3. They uns done. 
 
 PERFECT. 
 
 1. We uns gone done, 
 
 2. You uns gone done, 
 
 3. They uns gone done. 
 
 PLUPERFECT. 
 
 1. We uns done gone done, 
 , 2. You uns done gone done, 
 3. They uns done gone done. 
 
 future. 
 
 1. We uns gwine done, 
 
 2. You uns gwine' done, 
 
 3. They uns gwine done. 
 
 1. I gone done, 
 
 2. Yer gone done, 
 
 3. He gone done, 
 
 1. I done gone done, 
 
 2. Yer done gone done 
 
 3. He done gone done, 
 
 1. I gwine done, 
 
 2. Yer gwine done, 
 
 3. He gwine done, 
 
 future perfect. 
 
 1. I gwine gone done, 1. W T e uns gwine gone done, 
 
 2. Yer gwine gone done, 2. You uns gwine gone done, 
 
 3. He gwine gone done, 3. They uns gwine gone done. 
 
 Ccetcra desunt. 
 
 Here, I submit, is as regular and symmetrical a 
 form of conjugation as can be found in any English 
 grammar. In some respects it is more so. For 
 instance, the ambiguity of the singular you and the 
 
352 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 plural you is obviated by the use of yer for the 
 second person singular, and you uns for the same 
 person plural. Of these two persons, on this sys- 
 tem, there can be no confusion. I gwine gone done 
 is as reasonable a part of the verb to do as / shall 
 or will have done. 
 
 But the full absurdity of this phrase, the essence 
 of its nonsense, seems not to have been hitherto 
 pointed out. The objection made to it is, that it 
 unites a present with a " passive," or rather a 
 perfect participle. But this combination is of fre- 
 quent occurrence, and, of itself, is quite unobjec- 
 tionable. For instance, " He, being forewarned of 
 the danger, fled." And there is a combination of the 
 same participles which seems yet nearer in mean- 
 ing to the one under consideration. A lady will 
 say to her servant, Why can't you set the table 
 thus, or so, without being told every morning? 
 That is good sense and good English. In Cotton's 
 translation of Montaigne's ff Apology for Raimond 
 de Sebonde " is this passage, which contains a 
 like construction : " There is more understanding 
 required in the teaching of others than in being 
 taught." Here we have also sense and English; 
 and this being admitted, it will seem to some 
 persons a full justification of the phrase, w while 
 the boy is being taught." It is not so, however. 
 Florio, writing nearly a hundred years before 
 Cotton, translates the same passage thus: "More 
 discourse is required to teach others than to be 
 taught," using the infinitive in both parts of the 
 sentence. The relation between the infinitive and 
 the verbal noun is so close that the latter may 
 
IS BEING DONE. 
 
 353 
 
 almost always be used for the former, although 
 the former may not be used for the latter. Mon- 
 taigne used the verbal noun in both instances. 
 His sentence has merely an elision of the article 
 before the last verbal noun, and in full is, "There 
 is more understanding required in the teaching 
 of others than in the being taught." This elision 
 is common, and appears in the lady's question to 
 her servant, which in full is, Why cannot you 
 set the table thus without [what? some object] — 
 without the being told? 
 
 What, then, is the fatal absurdity in this phrase, 
 which has been so long and so widely used that, to 
 some people, it seems to be an old growth of 
 the language, while it is yet in fact a mere trans- 
 planted sucker, without life and without root? It 
 is in the combination of is with being; in the 
 making of the verb to be a supplement, or, in 
 grammarians' phrase, an auxiliary to itself — an 
 absurdity so palpable, so monstrous, so ridiculous 
 that it should need only to be pointed out to be 
 scouted. To be — called by Latin grammarians 
 the substantive verb — expresses mere existence. 
 It predicates of its subject either simple absolute 
 existence or whatever attribute follows it. To be 
 and to exist are perfect synonymes, or more nearly 
 perfect, perhaps, than any two verbs in the lan- 
 guage. In some of their meanings there is a 
 shade of difference, but in others there is none 
 whatever; and the latter are those which serve 
 our present purpose. When we say, He, being 
 forewarned of danger, fled, we say, He, existing 
 forewarned of danger, fled. When we say that 
 23 
 
354 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 a thing is done, we say that it exists done. When 
 we say, That being done I shall be satisfied, we 
 say, That existing done I shall be satisfied. Is 
 being done is simply exists existing done. To say, 
 therefore, that a thing is being done is not only 
 to say (in respect of the last two participles) that a 
 process is going on and is finished, at the same 
 time, but (in respect of the whole phrase) that 
 it exists existing finished ; which is no more or 
 other than to say thai it exists finished, is finished, 
 is done ; which is exactly what those who use the 
 phrase do not mean. It means that if it means 
 anything ; but in fact it means nothing, and is the 
 most incongruous combination of words and ideas 
 that ever attained respectable usage in any civilized 
 language. 
 
 This absurdity has been hidden by the irregu- 
 larity of the verb to be, which gives us such 
 dissimilar forms as is for the present tense, was 
 for the past, and being for the present participle. 
 It seems as if in is being there were two verbs. 
 We may be sure that if the present participle of 
 to be were formed like that of to love (loving) 
 we should never have heard the phrases bes being 
 done or is ising done, bes being built or is ising 
 built. This nonsense is hidden from the eye and 
 deadened to the ear by the dissimilarity in form of 
 is and being. We may rightly use to have as a 
 complement to itself, and say have had, or even had 
 had, because we can have having, possess posses- 
 sion. But we cannot be being, exist existence. 
 To be being is merely to be ; nothing more or less. 
 7/ is being is simply equal to it is. And in the 
 
IS BEING DONE. 355 
 
 supposed corresponding Latin phrases ens factus 
 est, ens cedificatus est (the obsoleteness of ens as 
 a participle being granted), the monstrosity is not in 
 the use of ens with factus, but in that of ens with 
 est. The absurdity is in Latin just what it is in 
 English, the use of is with being, the making of 
 the verb to be a complement to itself. 
 
 But it is strongly urged, and speciously main- 
 tained, that to be and to exist are not synonymes 
 when the former is used as a so-called auxiliary 
 verb. In the words of one critic, "The verb is, as 
 a copula between a subject and a predicate, is no 
 synonyme with the verb exist. It does not affirm 
 the existence of either subject or predicate. It is 
 simply the sign of connection, the coupler, direct- 
 ing the reader to think subject and predicate in 
 unity." 
 
 That there is a difference between the significa- 
 tion of a verb used independently, and that which it 
 has as a so-called auxiliary, seems to me, with my 
 present light, a mere fiction of the grammarians, 
 whose rules are, in my judgement, valuable only in 
 those rare instances in which they conform to rea- 
 son and common sense, in behalf of which I have 
 dared to do battle. 
 
 This very notion that the verb is a copula, ful- 
 filling the functions of a coupler in a sentence, is 
 one of those against which, in boyhood, I beat my 
 inapprehensive head in vain. Now, apprehending 
 it, I believe it to be the merest linguistic fiction with 
 which man ever was deluded. The verb is the life 
 of the sentence. A sentence is an assertion, direct 
 or hypothetical ; and it is the verb, and the verb only, 
 
356 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 which asserts. Assertion is its peculiar and exclu- 
 sive characteristic. True, in asserting it does con- 
 nect subject and predicate ; but this is an incidental, 
 and we might almost say an unessential, function 
 of the verb, whose office is to move the sentence, to 
 be the engine that propels the train of thought, and 
 not the coupling that keeps it together. 
 
 The substantive verb to be expresses existence ; 
 and whether used by itself or in connection with a 
 participle or an adjective, it does nothing more. 
 But existence may be simple and absolute, or it may 
 be modified by the relations of its subject to some 
 condition or quality. In the sentence " Socrates is," 
 simple existence is predicated of Socrates ; but in 
 this, "Socrates speaks," a certain act, that is, ex- 
 istence together with a certain condition of exist- 
 tence, is predicated of him. For it is as true now 
 as it was when Aristotle said it, as true of English 
 as of Greek, that the assertion "Socrates speaks" 
 is equivalent to the assertion "Socrates is speaking." 
 Now, it seems to me clear that the difference be- 
 tween " Socrates is " and " Socrates is speaking " is 
 merely that the former predicates simple existence 
 of Socrates, and the latter, existence and something 
 more. The participle sneaking modifies, both by 
 limitation and expansion, the assertion of the verb 
 is, " Socrates is speaking " is equivalent to " Soc- 
 rates exists speaking." So when we say that a 
 man is loved, is hated, is condemned, we say merely 
 that the loved, hated, or condemned condition is 
 that in which he exists. And even the sentence 
 "the man is dead" is equivalent, neither more nor 
 less, to the other, "the man exists dead." If the 
 
IS BEING DONE. 357 
 
 last example should provoke, even in those who 
 accept its predecessors, a smiling doubt, and a sus- 
 picion that this example is fatal to my view of the 
 meaning of to be, it must be by reason of a mis- 
 apprehension of the meaning of the verb exist as it 
 is used in this construction. If exist must mean 
 literally is alive, and nothing else, we cannot accept 
 the sentence "the man exists (is alive) dead," as 
 the equivalent of "the man is dead." But an objec- 
 tion resting upon this assumed ambiguity can be 
 quickly set aside. The existence predicated by the 
 substantive verb to be is not necessarily one of life, 
 but one that is predicable alike of things animate 
 and inanimate. We say that a planet, a country, 
 a town exists, or that it does not exist, i. e., that u 
 is, or is not ; as Virgil made ^Eneas say fuit Ilium, 
 or as we might say, using the verb to be in two 
 tenses to express the same fact, The man was, and 
 is not; in which sentence was predicates an exist- 
 ence past, and is not, a negative existence present ; 
 a negative existence being no more a contradiction 
 in terms than a negative affirmation. So when we 
 say, The man is dead, we merely predicate of him 
 a dead existence, which so far as he is concerned 
 is no existence at all in this world, as far as we 
 know ; but so far as we are concerned with him as 
 the subject of speech, is a mere change in the con- 
 dition of his existence. With a ruined city or a 
 dead man before us, the existence of either palpa- 
 ble, though changed in its condition, we say, The 
 city exists no more, or, The city is (exists) ruined, 
 The man exists no more, or, The man is (exists) 
 dead. To this sense of the word exist, life is not 
 
3$8 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 more essential in the one case than in the other. 
 This construing may easily be ridiculed, but I am 
 quite sure that it will outlive any ridicule that it 
 may provoke, and that it affords the only reasona- 
 ble explanation of the intimate signification of such 
 phrases as those which have just been given in 
 illustration. 
 
 Home Tooke, as if to leave an example not to be 
 set aside of the identity of is and exist, wrote the 
 following remarkable sentence in his dialogue "Of 
 Prepositions." B. asks whether good-breeding or 
 policy dictated a certain sharp criticism upon Dr. 
 Johnson and Bishop Lowth. H. replies, — 
 
 " Neither. But a quality which passes for brutality and ill 
 nature; and which, in spite of hard blows and heavy burdens, 
 would make me rather chuse in the scale of beings to exist a 
 mastiff or a mule than a monkey or a lap-dog." — Div. of Pur., 
 I. 370, ed. 1798. - 
 
 Now, no man who has preserved all his senses 
 will doubt for a moment that " to exist a mastiff or 
 a mule " is absolutely the same as " to be a mastiff 
 or a mule." And can such a person believe that in 
 the phrases, to be a nude , to be stubborn, and to be 
 beaten, there is the least shade of difference in the 
 meaning of the verb to be ? that it has one mean- 
 ing when it is followed by the noun, mule, and the 
 same when it is followed by the adjective, stubborn^ 
 but another when it is followed by the participle, 1 
 beaten, which is but a kind of adjective? If there is 
 such a difference, then the verb must have the former 
 meaning before the adjective afraid in the sentence, 
 He is afraid. But afraid is merely the perfect 
 participle of the verb affray — affrayed, afrayed, the 
 
IS BEING DONE. 359 
 
 same as the old participle afeared, from the Anglo- 
 Saxon afaeran ; and how and when did the verb 
 to be change its meaning by the mere contraction 
 of affray ed into afraid ? 
 
 But it is said that the use of is with being involves 
 no absurdity, because here being does not mean 
 existing, but continuing. In illustration of which, 
 the phrase, The anvil is being struck is given. 
 That, we are told, is equivalent to, The anvil is con- 
 tinuing struck. "Being struck implies a process, 
 a continuity of some sort beyond a simple instant. 
 Is affirms the being struck of the anvil." Let us 
 examine that position, and see if it relieves us of 
 confusion and ambiguity. Keeping to Noah's ark, 
 let us say, The ark being finished, the hippopotamus 
 declined entering it. Does that mean, the ark con- 
 tinuing finished, etc. ? The bond being given, Shy- 
 lock lent the money. Does that mean the bond 
 continuing given, etc.? Plainly it does not, cannot 
 mean, in either case, that, or anything like that. 
 We find ourselves landed in the confusion and the 
 ambiguity of assuming that in, "The ark being- 
 prepared," being has one meaning, and in, " The 
 ark is being prepared," another. But if we hold 
 to reason, and reg'ard being as always meaning 
 existing, and -preparing, building, as verbal sub- 
 stantives that mean a -process, we have no confu- 
 sion, neither ambiguity nor absurdity. The ark 
 being prepared, means the ark existing prepared ; 
 and, While the ark was in preparing, or was pre- 
 paring, means while the ark was in process of prep- 
 aration. Is there a man of sense who can speak 
 English, who does not understand, In the building 
 
360 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 of the house to mean in the process of the erection 
 of the house? It is safe to say, not one. The 
 verbal substantive in ing, or, if you please, the 
 present participle used substantively, expresses, to 
 the apprehension of all men, a process. And such 
 phrases as being built, being done, must be used 
 absolutely, in a participial sense, as, The house 
 being built, he went into it ; The thing being done, 
 it could not be helped ; or they must be used sub- 
 stantively. For example, the following passage from 
 the first book of Young's " Night Thoughts : " — 
 
 " Of man's miraculous mistakes this bears 
 The palm : That all men are about to live, 
 Forever on the brink of being born." 
 
 Here being born is a substantive, equivalent to 
 birth, as much a substantive as any single word in 
 any language. Which may be shown thus : — 
 
 r an abyss. 
 
 Forever on the brink of \ ,. ' , Mn 
 j being born. 
 
 I birth. 
 
 We can say, His being born at that time was 
 fortunate, as well as, His birth at that time was 
 fortunate. But, to meet the last and most specious 
 suggestion which has been made in favor of the 
 is-being or to-be-being phraseology, that is merely 
 predicates of its subject the being and the following- 
 participle — we cannot say, He was birth ; and no 
 more can we correctly say, He was being born. 
 And so we may say, The anvil's being struck was 
 evident ; in w r hich being struck means the blow 
 which the anvil received, and which thus is the 
 anvil's blow ; but we cannot correctly (/. e., logical- 
 ly, in accordance with reason and common sense) 
 
IS BEING DONE. 361 
 
 say, The anvil was being struck, any more than we 
 can say, The anvil was blow. If we wish to say 
 that the anvil is in the continued recipience of 
 blows, and do not wish to say substantively, The 
 anvil is in striking, or a striking, or striking, we 
 may with perfect propriety and clearness of ex- 
 pression say, The anvil is struck, as Hamlet said 
 Polonius v is eaten" Is struck does not mean has 
 been struck, as is eaten does not mean has been 
 eaten : both express present continuous recipience 
 of action. 
 
 These comparisons and this reasoning are perti- 
 nent to the consideration of what has been said in 
 defence of the phrase is being done, because that 
 phrase is not an idiom which came into the lan- 
 guage in its unconscious formative stages, but the 
 deliberate production of some pedantic writer of 
 the last generation, who sought to make, in the 
 words of one of his apologists, " a form of expres- 
 sion which should accurately represent the form of 
 thought," that thought being one which has been 
 fully expressed among all civilized peoples for thou- 
 sands of years ; and the result of his labors is, as 
 might have been expected, a monstrosity, the illogi- 
 cal, confusing, inaccurate, unidiomatic character 
 of which I have at some length, but yet imperfectly, 
 set forth. The suggestion has been made that, in 
 the phrase under examination, is means becomes, 
 and that the house is being built means, the house 
 is becoming built. Now, if any man chooses to 
 say, The house is becoming built, I, for one, shall 
 make no objection other than that he is setting aside 
 a healthy and sufficient idiom, which has grown 
 up naturally with the language, and is. in fact, c- 
 
362 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 eval with its birth, for a new phrase which has 
 nothing of force or of accuracy in its favor. But 
 that is does, or by any possibility can, mean be- 
 comes, that the verb of existence, the substantive 
 verb, can in any way represent or be represented 
 by another verb, the radical thought in which is 
 motion toward, entrance into, is, I confess, beyond 
 my comprehension. 
 
 The question is thus narrowed simply to this : 
 Does to be being {esse ens) mean anything more or 
 other than to be ? Does it so mean logically, accord- 
 ing to the common sense of men, and the spirit and 
 analogies of the language? For as to what it may 
 be made to mean, what men may agree to accept it 
 as meaning, there is nothing to be said. Beef, for 
 a good reason, means the flesh of the ox, and steak, 
 for a like reason, flesh in large slices ; and therefore 
 beefsteak means the flesh of the ox in large slices. 
 But there is no telling whether by the labors of those 
 who wish to " slough off" old, uncouth forms, and to 
 make " the form of expression accurately represent 
 the form of thought," people may not be led to agree 
 that it shall mean plum-pudding. 
 
 What then should we do ? Should we say, While 
 the boy was whipping, The room was sweeping, 
 The dinner was eating, The cow was milking, The 
 meat is cooking? Yes: why not? Why not, as 
 well as, The bell is tolling, The grain is ripening,. 
 The bread is baking? Could there be a more absurd 
 affectation than, instead of, The tea has been draw- 
 ing five minutes, to say, The tea has been being 
 drawn five minutes ? Been being — is that sense, or 
 English? — except to children, who say that they 
 have been being naughty, thereby saying only that 
 
IS BEING DONE. 363 
 
 they have been naughty. Yet the tea draws noth- 
 ing, it is drawn ; the bread bakes nothing, it is baked ; 
 the grain ripens nothing, it is ripened. But when 
 we say that, The tea is drawing, we do not say that 
 it is an agent drawing anything, but that it is itself 
 in drawing. And so with regard to all the other 
 examples given, and all possible examples. In 
 Goldsmith's "Citizen of the World" (Letter XXI.) 
 is the following passage, descriptive of a play : — 
 
 "The fifth act began, and a busy piece it was; scenes shift- 
 ing, trumpets sounding, drums beating, mobs hallooing, carpets 
 spreading, guards bustling from one door to the other; gods, 
 demons, daggers, rags, and ratsbane." 
 
 Read the second clause of the, sentence according 
 to the formula is being done. " Scenes being shifted, 
 trumpets being sounded, drums being beaten, mobs 
 hallooing, carpets being spread," and so forth. By 
 this change the very life is taken out of the subject. 
 No longer a busy piece, it drags its wounded and 
 halting body along, and dies before it gets to rags 
 and ratsbane. 
 
 If precise affectation can impose upon us such a 
 phrase as is being done for is doing, it must needs 
 drive all idioms kindred to the latter from the lan- 
 guage. Our walking sticks, our fishing rods, and 
 our fasting days, because they cannot walk, or fish, 
 or fast, must be changed into to-be-walked-with 
 sticks, to-be-fished- with rods, and to-be-fasted-on 
 days ; and our church-going bells must become for- 
 to-church-go bells, because they are not the belles 
 that go to church. Such ruin comes of laying pre- 
 sumptuous hands upon idioms, those sacred myste- 
 ries of language. 
 
364 WORDS AND THEIR USES, 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A DESULTORY DENUNCIATION OF ENGLISH 
 DICTIONARIES.* 
 
 A DICTIONARY is an explanatory word cat- 
 alogue ; and a perfect one will contain the 
 entire literary and colloquial vocabulary of a lan- 
 guage ; that is, every simple word, and every com- 
 pound word with a single and peculiar meaning, 
 having the authority of usage respectable for an- 
 tiquity, generality, or the eminence of the user. 
 It would seem that such a catalogue could be 
 certainly made, patient research and a not very 
 remarkable degree of learning being the only requi- 
 sites to its making. But, in fact, an absolutely 
 perfect dictionary of any living language does not 
 exist, and perhaps will never exist, for the reason 
 that it cannot be produced. 
 
 * In the first sentence of this chapter as it was originally published (in the " Gal- 
 axy" for May, 1869), I mentioned that, but a short time before the writing of it, I 
 had heard, for the first time, of Trench's pamphlet, "On some Deficiencies in our 
 English Dictionaries," of which I had until then in vain sought a sight, either as a 
 buyer or a borrower. Since that time — owing to the kindness of one of the proprie- 
 tors of Brotherhead & Company's Library — I have had an opportunity of reading 
 the dean's criticism. The differences between my reverend predecessor's presentation 
 of the subject and my own arise chiefly from the difference of the ideals we each had 
 in mind. His dictionary is a philological history of the language, with illustrative 
 examples ; mine, a hand-book of every-day reference for the general reader. I have 
 modified none of my opinions since reading Archbishop Trench's pamphlet ; but I 
 have obtained the advantage of citing his judgement in support of my own on 
 several important points. 
 
ENGLISH DICTIONARIES. 365 
 
 Bailey's "Universal Etymological English Dic- 
 tionary " was the first worthy attempt at the making 
 of a word-book of our language; and it was a 
 very creditable work for the time of its publication, 
 A. D. 1726. For those who care to do more about 
 language than to see how "the dictionary" says 
 a word should be spelled; or what it means, Bailey's 
 work has never been entirely superseded. There 
 was some reason that the compiler should say that 
 he had enriched his book with " several thousand 
 English words and phrases in no English dictionary 
 before extant ; " for the English dictionaries that pre- 
 ceded his were so small and deficient, that, as repre- 
 sentations of the vocabulary of our language, they 
 were of little worth. But the boasting of subsequent 
 dictionary-makers, like most other boasting, is 
 empty and ridiculous in proportion to the magnitude 
 of its pretensions. When we are told that Web- 
 ster's Dictionary contains sixteen thousand words 
 not found in any similar preceding work, and then 
 that the Imperial Dictionary contains fifteen thou- 
 sand words more than Webster's, and yet again 
 that the Supplement to the Imperial Dictionary 
 contains twenty thousand words more than the 
 body of the work, we might well believe that our 
 language spawms words as herrings spawn eggs, 
 and that a mere catalogue of its component parts 
 would soon fill a shelf in an ordinary library, were 
 it not that when we come to examine these additions 
 of thousands and tens of thousands of words thus 
 set forth as made in each new dictionary, and in 
 each new edition of each dictionary, we find that 
 not one in a hundred of the added words, hardly 
 
366 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 one in a thousand, is really a before uncatalogued 
 item of the English vocabulary. Our estimate of 
 the worth of an addition that proceeds by columns 
 of four figures is further lowered by the discovery 
 that these dictionaries, with all their ponderous bulk 
 and verbal multitudinousness, do not fully represent 
 the English of literature or of common life ; that 
 they give no aid to the reading of some of our 
 standard authors ; that while they set forth, with 
 wearisome superfluity and puerile iteration, that 
 upon which every one who has sense and knowl- 
 edge enough to use a dictionary at all, needs no 
 information, they pass by as obsolete, or vulgar, 
 or colloquial, or what not, that upon which people 
 of intelligence and education do need instruction 
 from the special students of language ; and that, 
 while they spot their pages with foreign words and 
 phrases, the use of which by some writers has 
 shown, with a superficial knowledge of other 
 tongues, a profound ignorance of their own, — they 
 neglect home-born words that have been in use 
 since English was written or spoken. 
 
 That works to which the foregoing objections can 
 be justly made — as they may be, in a greater or 
 less degree, to every existing English dictionary — 
 can have no real authority, is too plain to need 
 insisting upon with much particularity. As to 
 dictionaries of the present day, that swell every 
 few years by the thousand items, the presence 
 of a w r ord in one of them shows merely that its 
 compiler has found that word in some dictionary 
 older than his own, or in some not low and 
 indecent publication of the day ; the absence of 
 
ENGLISH DICTIONARIES. 367 
 
 a word from any one of them showing merely that 
 it has not been thus met with by the dictionary- 
 maker. Its presence or its absence has this signifi- 
 cance, and no more. Word-books thus compiled 
 have the value which always pertains to large col- 
 lections of things of one kind, even although the 
 things may be intrinsically and individually of little 
 worth ; but the source of any authority in such 
 word-collections it would be difficult to discover. 
 Upon the proper spelling, pronunciation, etymology, 
 and definition of words, a dictionary might be made 
 to which high and almost absolute authority could 
 justly be awarded. And the first and the second 
 of these points are determined, with a very near 
 approximation to such merit, in the works of 
 Ogilvie, Latham, Richardson, Worcester, and that 
 which is strangely enough called Webster's. 
 
 With one exception, Etymology is the least valua- 
 ble element in the making of a dictionary, as it is 
 of interest only to those who wish to study the 
 history of language. It helps no man in his use of 
 the word bishop to know that it comes from two 
 Greek words, efi, meaning upon, and scopos, mean- 
 ing a looker, still less to be told into what forms those 
 words have passed in Spanish, Arabic, and Persian. 
 Yet it is in their etymologies that our dictionaries 
 have shown most improvement during the last 
 twenty-five years ; they having profited in this 
 respect by the recent great advancement in the ety- 
 mological department of philology. The etymolo- 
 gies of words in our recently published dictionaries, 
 although, as I have said before, they are of no great 
 value for the purposes for which dictionaries are con- 
 
368 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 suited, are little nests (sometimes slightly mare-ish) 
 of curious and agreeable information, and afford a 
 very pleasant and instructive pastime to those who 
 have the opportunity and the inclination to look 
 into them. But they are not worth, in a dictionary, 
 all the labor that is spent on them, or all the room 
 they occupy. The noteworthy spectacle has lately 
 been shown of the casting over of the whole ety- 
 mological freight of a well-known dictionary, and 
 the taking on board of another. For the etymolo- 
 gical part of the last edition of "Webster's American 
 Dictionary," so called, Dr. Mahn, of Berlin, is re- 
 sponsible. When it was truly called Webster's Dic- 
 tionary, it was in this respect discreditable to scholar- 
 ship in this country, and even indicative of mental 
 supineness in a people upon whom such a book could 
 be imposed as having authority. And now that it 
 is relieved of this blemish, it is, in this respect, 
 neither Webster's Dictionary nor " American," but 
 Mahn's and German. 
 
 Dictionaries are consulted chiefly for their -defini- 
 tions ; and yet, upon this point, all our English 
 dictionaries are more or less misleading and confus- 
 ing. And they are so in a great measure because 
 the desire to multiply words has its counterpart 
 in the desire to multiply definitions, in defiance of 
 simple common sense. Minuteness of division and 
 variety of signification have been sought, that the 
 book might be big, and its definitions be styled 
 copious. They have been marshalled one after the 
 other in single file, that their array might be the 
 more imposing ; and to increase the impressiveness 
 of the spectacle, they are solemnly numbered. 
 
ENGLISH DICTIONARIES. 369 
 
 And so, at last, we are seriously told that, for 
 instance, Jail, as a verb, has twenty-eight meanings, 
 and as a noun nineteen — all as well-defined and 
 several as the two-and-seventy stinks that Cole- 
 ridge found in the City of Cologne — besides thirty- 
 eight which it has in established phrases ! But this 
 simple word is far over-passed, in the multitude and 
 variety of the meanings assigned to it, by another, 
 run, which would seem to express always one sim- 
 ple thought, as clearly and absolutely as is possible 
 in language. We are actually told that run, as 
 a verb transitive, has fifty-six distinct meanings, 
 thirteen as a verb intransitive, and fourteen as a 
 noun, besides twenty-seven in current phrases. To 
 each one of these a special paragraph is given, 
 so that the line stretches out like that of Banquo's 
 progeny in the witches' cave ; and by the tenuity 
 of its sense, it vanishes away into nothing, like the 
 receding figures in a perspective diagram. Here 
 are some of these definitions of fall, as they are 
 given in Webster's Dictionary. Of the verb, — 
 
 5. To die, particularly by violence. 
 
 6. To come to an end suddenly, to vanish, to perish. 
 
 7. To be degraded, to sink into disrepute, etc., etc. 
 
 8. To decline in power, wealth, or glory, to sink into weak- 
 ness, etc., etc. 
 
 26. To sink, to languish, to become feeble or faint. 
 
 10. To sink, to be lowered. 
 
 11. To decrease, to be diminished in weight or value. 
 
 17. To happen, to befall, to come. 
 
 18. To light on, to come by chance. 
 
 20. To come, to arrive. 
 
 21. To come unexpectedly. 
 
 27. To be brought forth. 
 
 28. To issue, to terminate. 
 
 24 
 
37° WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 Of the noun, — 
 
 3. Death, destruction, overthrow. 
 
 4. Ruin, destruction. 
 
 5. Downfall, degradation, loss of greatness. 
 
 6. Declension of greatness, power, or dominion. 
 
 7. Diminution, decrease of price or value, depreciation, as 
 the fall of prices, the fall of rents, the fall of interest. 
 
 8. Declination of sound [whatever that may be], a sinking 
 of tone, cadence, as the fall of the voice at the close of a sen- 
 tence. 
 
 Of run we find the following among the fifty-six 
 meanings given of it as a transitive verb : — 
 
 3. To use the legs in moving, to step, as children run alone 
 or run about. 
 
 4. To move in a hurry — The priest and people run about. 
 8. To contend in a race, as men and horses run for a prize. 
 
 13. To be liquid or fluid. 
 
 14. To be fusible, to melt. 
 
 15. To fuse or melt. 
 
 18. To flow, as words, language, or periods. 
 
 21. To have a course or direction. 
 
 24. To have a continued tenor or course. 
 
 29. To proceed in succession. 
 
 31. To proceed in a train of conduct. 
 
 36. To extend, to lie in continued length, as veins. 
 
 37. To have a certain direction — The line runs east and west. 
 46. To pass or fall into fault, vice, or misfortune, as to run 
 
 into vice, to run into mistakes. 
 
 48. To have a general tendency — Temperate climates run 
 into moderate governments. 
 
 51. To creep, as serpents run on the ground. 
 
 52 To slide, as a sled or sleigh runs on the ground. 
 
 53. To dart, to shoot, as a meteor in the sky. 
 
 54. To fly, to move in the air, as the clouds run from N. E. 
 to S. W. 
 
 Of run, the noun, we have these among other 
 discriminated meanings : — 
 
 2. Course, motion, as the run of humor. 
 
 3. Flow, as a run of verses to please the ear. 
 
 4. Course, process, continued series, as the run of events. 
 
ENGLISH DICTIONARIES. 37 1 
 
 Words would be wasted in showing the absurdity 
 of a system of definitions which gives such results 
 as this ; which not only sets forth mere metaphorical 
 uses of words as instances of their use in different 
 senses, but in the metaphorical use, regards the ap- 
 plication of a word in one sense to two objects as 
 its use in two senses ; as, for instance, to fall, to 
 die by violence, and, also, to come to an end 
 suddenly; run, to pass or fall into vice, and, also, 
 to have a general tendency. Let the reader, who 
 wishes to see to what lengths this mania for copious 
 definition can lead those upon whom it seizes, ex- 
 amine the words work, turn, free, live, life, light, 
 wood, head, make, lay, break, cast, cut, give, go, 
 have, heart, heavy, high, hold, -put, raise, serve, 
 set, so, stand, take, to, and almost any other such 
 simple words in Webster's Dictionary. Let him 
 turn to Johnson's, and see that wooden is defined 
 first as "made of wood," and next as "clumsy, 
 awkward," two passages, of which the following 
 is one, being quoted as support for the latter 
 definition : — 
 
 "When a bold man is out of countenance, he makes a very 
 wooden figure on't." 
 
 But wooden does not here mean clumsy or awk- 
 ward ; it only suggests clumsiness and awkward- 
 ness ; and it verily has that suggestion in its power, 
 because it means made of wood, and means, and 
 can mean, nothing else. The use of woode7i in 
 this instance brings vividly to mind how like a 
 wooden figure, a figure-head, a man appears who 
 has lost his self-possession. Its very value as an epi- 
 thet consists in that it does not mean clumsy and 
 
Si 
 
 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 awkward. In the following passage in " Robinson 
 Crusoe," Defoe furnishes a more pertinent example 
 of this use of the same word than either of the two 
 which have been cited in dictionaries : — 
 
 " Well, this I conquered by making a wooden spade : . . . . 
 but this did my work in a wooden manner." 
 
 A wooden spade could, of course, serve Robin- 
 son Crusoe's needs only in a wooden manner ; but, 
 saying this in the person of his hero, Defoe also 
 artfully suggests the clumsy insufficiency of his 
 homely tool ; and his meaning is conveyed com- 
 pletely and impressively, because it is suggested, 
 and not literally told. Defoe's use of this word is 
 here worthy of Shakespeare himself, who attains 
 many of his happiest reaches of language in this 
 manner. He makes, in "The Tempest," a like use 
 of the very word in question, when Fernando, 
 carrying logs, says, — 
 
 " [I] would no more endure 
 This wooden slavery, than to suffer 
 The flesh-fly blow my mouth." 
 
 Here wooden at once expresses literally the object 
 of the speaker's labor, and suggests its dull oppres- 
 siveness ; and it does the latter at the will of the 
 poet, just because without that will it does only the 
 former. 
 
 If we may say that wooden means clumsy, awk- 
 ward, dull, oppressive, we may as well say that 
 oak means courage, because of the phrase " hearts 
 of oak," or that gold means innocence, because we 
 speak of " the age of gold," or that iron means 
 hard or hardness, because iron-hearted is used in 
 the sense of hard-hearted, unfeeling, cruel. 
 
ENGLISH DICTIONARIES. 373 
 
 Webster is not wholly responsible for the vicious 
 system of definition upon which he labored with 
 such conscientious thoroughness. This system 
 originated with Dr. Johnson ; and it is mere justice 
 to say that, although Webster carried it to an 
 extreme which is both extravagant and injurious, 
 he improved upon his model, and displayed a 
 power of discrimination, and an ability for the 
 exact expression of nice distinctions, much surpass- 
 ing that of K the great lexicographer." 
 
 Johnson's Dictionary was not only a work of 
 great research — it was a work original in its de- 
 sign and its execution ; and it is the model of the 
 great English dictionaries, except Richardson's, 
 that have been since compiled. They are all 
 founded upon Johnson's ; but his was founded upon 
 no other : it was the result of a critical examination 
 of a range of English literature wider than had 
 ever before been examined by one man for any 
 purpose. It was almost inevitable that a dictionary 
 made in such a manner should, with its great 
 merits, have all the faults by which those merits 
 are counterbalanced, and particularly this one of 
 superfluous, over-subtle, misleading definitions. 
 Johnson undertook to present a full vocabulary of 
 the language gathered from the writings of its 
 principal authors in all departments of literature, 
 and to define each word of that vocabulary accord- 
 ing to the various senses in which he found it used. 
 Considering the end in view, the method adopted 
 was the best, if not, indeed, the only one, for its 
 attainment ; and the labor was gigantic. But it 
 was hardly avoidable that, in compiling and defin- 
 
374 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 ing a vocabulary in this manner, the various appli- 
 cations of words used by various authors in the 
 same sense should be accepted as uses of those 
 words in different senses; and particularly that 
 various metaphorical applications of words having 
 but one real meaning should be discriminated by 
 different definitions. The collection of passages 
 for the illustration of definitions would naturally 
 lead to this false distinction of significations. And 
 as to the remainder of his task, Johnson, although 
 a scholar, and a thinker of singular clearness and 
 force, was not a philologist, even according to the 
 crude and rudimentary philology of his day ; nor 
 was his mind so constituted as to fit him for the 
 quick perception of analogies and the patient 
 tracing of verbal vestiges hidden by the drift of 
 centuries, which are necessary to the successful 
 prosecution of philological inquiry. The conse- 
 quence was, that he produced a work that was at 
 once very convenient and very pernicious. I will 
 not say, with him who yet remains the greatest 
 philologist that has made the English language his 
 peculiar study, HorneTooke, that Johnson's Diction- 
 ary is a disgrace to the English people ; but there 
 seems to be no reason for disputing Tooke's judge- 
 ment, that Johnson's system was unscientific and 
 vicious, and that a dictionary ought to be made 
 of a very different kind from anything ever yet 
 attempted anywhere. ("Diversions of Purley," i., 
 401.) Now, all that has since been done in the 
 making of English dictionaries is merely to build 
 upon Johnson's foundation, and to work on his plan, 
 with the increased materials and the larger knowl- 
 
ENGLISH DICTIONARIES. 375 
 
 edge provided by the development of the language 
 and the investigations of modern philology. 
 
 In one respect, the makers of later dictionaries 
 have followed, to a monstrous extreme, a fashion 
 set by Johnson — that of introducing compound 
 words, and words formed from others simple and 
 well known, by the addition of the prefixes dis, un, 
 mi's, re, etc., the meaning and force of which are as 
 generally understood as that of 5 in the plural and 
 in the possessive case. The catalogues of these 
 words, with which our dictionaries are blown up 
 into a bloated emptiness of bulk, are an offence 
 to the common sense of any reader, even the hum- 
 blest, and cause him to pay for that which he does 
 not need, while they fill five times the room that 
 would be required by that which he does need. 
 Open almost any dictionary, the Imperial, Web- 
 ster's, or Worcester's, — but Webster's is the most 
 superfluous and obtrusive in this respect, because it 
 carries to the furthest extreme the vicious plan 
 of vocabulary-making and definition introduced by 
 Johnson, — open it at random, and see how it is 
 loaded down with this worthless lumber. Of 
 words formed by joining milk and some other 
 word together, there are twenty-two, of which 
 number are milk-fail, milk-fan, milk-f or ridge, 
 milk-score, milk-white. And yet milk-funch, milk- 
 train, and milk-foultice are omitted ! Straw fur- 
 nishes twelve compound words, so called, of which 
 are straw-color, straw-colored I straw-crowned, 
 straw-cutter, straw-stuffed I and even straw -hat I 
 Yet in vain will Margery Daw look for straw-bed, 
 or Recorder Hackett seek the word straw-bail. 
 
37^ WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 Of words, so called, made by the union of heart 
 with another, there are acutally sixty-nine paraded ; 
 heart itself having sixteen distinct meanings as- 
 signed to it simply, and eleven in established 
 phrases. Among these compounded words are heart- 
 ache, heart-appalling, heart-consuming, heart-cor- 
 roding (why not heart-destroying, and heart- 
 crushing?), heart-expanding, heart-shaped (which 
 we are informed means " having the shape of a 
 heart"), heart-piercing (which means "piercing 
 the heart ") , heart-sick (which means " sick at 
 heart"), heart-thrilling 1 , heart-whole, and the like; 
 and yet heart-entrancing, heart-enticing, and heart- 
 bewitching, as well as heart-blood, are omitted. 
 Why? Gentle Webster, tell us why! Surely a 
 dictionary, of all things, should be "in concatena- 
 tion accordingly." 
 
 After being told that head, simple of itself, has 
 thirty-one distinct meanings (it has but one of the 
 thirty-one), we are presented with it in combination 
 with other simple words thirty-seven times ; of 
 which manner of dictionary-making here are a 
 few examples : head-ache (which the inquirer will 
 learn means " pain in the head ") , head-dress, head- 
 first (which we are told means " with the head 
 foremost." Why not "with the head first?" that 
 would be more in keeping), headless (of which we 
 not only learn that it means "without a head," but 
 for which we are given the high authority of Spen- 
 ser as warranting us to say a headless body, neck, 
 or carcass) ; head-strong, head-work, and head- 
 workman also appear. We find sixty-seven com- 
 pounds of horse, such as horse-breaker, horse-deal- 
 
ENGLISH DICTIONARIES. 377 
 
 er, horse-flesh, horse-jockey , horse-keeper, horse- 
 race, and (important) horse-racing, horse-shoe, 
 horsestealer, horse-thief, and horse-stealing, horse- 
 whip, horse-whipped ; and horse-whipping twice. 
 Why were there not sixty-eight compounds? for 
 horse-marine, alas ! is absent. 
 
 Sea is repeated in combination with other words 
 one hundred and fifty-seven times ! the combined 
 words being all printed at full length, each in a line 
 by itself, with definitions to use them withal. 
 Else, indeed, how could a man, after being told 
 what sea means, compass the meaning of sea-bank, 
 sea-bar, sea-bathed, sea-breeze, sea-captain, sea- 
 coast, sea-nian, sea-resembling (which means " like 
 the sea ") ; sea-shell, sea-shore, sea-side, sea-thief, 
 sea-water, or sea-weed? And yet, in defiance of 
 Cooper and Marry att, and Admiral Farragut and 
 the Navy of the United States, being set at nought, 
 sea-cook is not to be found, nor yet sea-lubber. 
 Again why? Webster, why? for you give us cook 
 and give us lubber, as you give us bank, and 
 breeze, and captain, and shell, and shore, and side, 
 and thief, and water. Why, therefore, sea-captain, 
 and not sea-cook ? why sea-thief, and not sea-lub- 
 ber? We are told what ear-deafening means, but 
 are left in ignorance as to ear-stunning. Tooth- 
 drawer is deemed worthy of explanation, but tooth- 
 filler pines in neglect. Dining having been de- 
 fined, and room, we are nevertheless told that din- 
 ing-room is a room to dine in ; and yet we are 
 heartlessly left to our own resources to discover the 
 meaning of breakfast-room, breakfast-time, tea- 
 
37§ WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 room, tea-time, supper-room, and supper-time ; and 
 although we are told what banquet means, and what 
 room, and also (perhaps therefore) what a ban- 
 queting-room is, and what a hall is, yet as to 
 what those banquet-halls are, visions of which float 
 through the stilly night, we are left to guess from 
 the poet's context, or to evolve from the depths of 
 our own moral consciousness. We are told the 
 meaning first of apple, and then gravely informed 
 of that of apple-harvest, of apple-john, apple-pie, 
 apple-sauce, apple-tart, and even of apple-tree. 
 But we learn nothing about apple-butter , apple- 
 dumpling, apple-pudding 'and apple-slump, as to two 
 of which information is more needed than of any 
 other compounds of apple, the only words of all 
 these compounds which have properly a place in a 
 dictionary being apple-john, apple-butter , and ap- 
 ple-slump. Thus, and properly, we have cranberry , 
 but we do not find cr anb err y -sauce ; currant, but not 
 currant-jelly ; strawberry, but not strawberry-iced- 
 cream, or strawberry-short-cake ; short-cake be- 
 ing a good example of the sort of compound word 
 that should be given in dictionaries. Perhaps the 
 most audacious of all these presentations of simple 
 words in couples as words with individual claims to 
 places in an English vocabulary, is the array in 
 which self is shown in conjunction with some noun, 
 adjective, or participle. Of these there are actually 
 in Webster's Dictionary one hundred and ninety- 
 six. Not one, of all this number, from the first, 
 self-abased, to the midmost, self-denial, and the 
 last, self-wrong, has a right to a place in an Eng- 
 lish dictionary ; for in every case self, in the simple, 
 
ENGLISH DICTIONARIES. 379 
 
 primitive sense it always preserves, is a mere adjec- 
 tive, qualifying the word that follows it ; and there 
 is no reason why, if the combinations thus detailed 
 should appear in a dictionary, all other possible com- 
 •binations of self should not also be presented. The 
 list is either entirely superfluous or very defective. 
 In fact, such an array is an affront to the under- 
 standing of English-speaking people. 
 
 But what need of the further working of a mine 
 of absurdity so rich that its product is not worth 
 taking out, and so homogeneous that one specimen 
 is just like another? Let the reader turn the pages 
 himself, and think as he turns. Besides such com- 
 pounds as those just cited, let him remark the ar- 
 ray of words joined to the common adverbs and 
 adjectives that come correctly from the lips of the 
 most ignorant man a hundred times daily. Of 
 ever, thirty-four. (Why not three hundred and 
 forty ?) Ever-active is present, and ever-silent, 
 absent : we have ever-living, but why not ever- 
 running! Of out, over, less, after, counter \ all, 
 back, free, foot, fore, high, and the like, the com- 
 pounds swarm upon the page. Finally, let him, 
 not inspect, but take a bird's-eye view (for life is 
 short) of the hordes that troop under the standards 
 of dis, and mis, and in, and inter, and un, and re, 
 and sub, and ex, and the like, not one in a hundred 
 of which has any more right to a place in a dic- 
 tionary than one man has to enlist under two 
 names and draw two rations ; or than a Fenian 
 has to stir up insurrection in Ireland as an Irish- 
 man, and to vote (twice) in New York as what 
 he calls an " American citizen." Upon this point 
 
380 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 Johnson's successors have bettered his instructions 
 with a vengeance ; for they have more than dou- 
 bled his array of words with particle prefixes. 
 Rather, they have bettered Johnson's practice, and 
 set at naught his instructions. For on this point 
 he taught much more wisely than he practised. It 
 is one upon which a few examples will serve our 
 purpose. For instance, agree, agreeable, affear, 
 approve, arm, being given in a dictionary, upon 
 what supposition or pretence of need can disagree, 
 disagreeable, disappear, disapprove, and disar?n 
 be given ? We are properly told all about trust ; 
 and could there be a better reason why not a word 
 is needed upon distrust ? And yet we have, in all 
 such cases, not only the simple word, and also the 
 simple word with the prefix, but all the inflections 
 and derivatives of both : trust, trusted, truster, 
 trustful, trustfully, trustfulness, trustily, trusti- 
 ness, trusting, and trustingly , and then soberly dis- 
 trust, distrusted, distrust er , distrustful, distrust- 
 fully, distrustf ulness , distrustily, dis trustiness, 
 distrusting, and distrustingly. In like manner are 
 paraded the combinations of all the other particle 
 prefixes. Of words compounded with dis Johnson 
 gave 637, Webster gives 1334; of words com- 
 pounded with un Johnson gave 1864, Webster gives 
 3935 '•> these two prefixes heading a catalogue of 
 more than 5000 words, so called, and such com- 
 pounds as unwitty, unsoft, and unsuit, going to 
 make up the multitude.* In Webster's Dictionary, 
 
 * The counting for this statement, and some others in this chapter, was carefully 
 made for me by one whom I have learned to rely upon ; and although it may be not 
 exactly correct, I am sure that it is nearly enough so for our purpose. 
 
ENGLISH DICTIONARIES. 381 
 
 the Imperial, and Worcester's, compounds like 
 those previously noticed comprise one tenth of the 
 vocabulary, from which, nevertheless, words used 
 by English authors of repute, and by English- 
 speaking people the world over, are omitted. If 
 we did not know by what contrivances dictionaries 
 are sold, and how thoughtlessly they are bought 
 and consulted, we might well wonder that books 
 thus made up had not long ago been scouted oat 
 of use and out of sight. Here is page after page, 
 from the beginning of the book to the end, filled 
 with matter that is worse than worthless, the very 
 presence of which is an affront to the common 
 sense of common people. For no man who has 
 intelligence enough and knowledge enough to need 
 a dictionary at all, or to know what one is, requires 
 one in which arm and disarm, armed 'dndunarmed, 
 take and retake, bent and unbent, bind and unbind, 
 and the like pairs, are both given. To say the 
 least, the latter are mere superfluity, cumbering the 
 pages on which they appear. And yet it is largely 
 by the insertion of compound, or rather of double 
 words (for they are few of them really compound- 
 ed), like dining-room, heart-consuming, and tooth- 
 drawer, and of words with particle prefixes, that 
 dictionary-makers sustain their boasts that their 
 books contain so many more thousand words than 
 those of their predecessors, or than their own of 
 previous editions. Dictionaries made in this .man- 
 ner are the merest catalogues of all possible ver- 
 bal and syllabic combinations, — notably and neces- 
 sarily incomplete catalogues, too; for there is no 
 end to word-making of this kind. The compound- 
 
382 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 ing of the words already in the language may go 
 on ad infinitum, and on such a plan of lexicogra- 
 phy the introduction of a new verb or noun would 
 have consequences too numerous, if not too serious, 1 
 to mention.* 
 
 Another way of increasing the bulk, impairing 
 the worth, and diminishing the convenience of dic- 
 tionaries, is the hauling into them — as with a drag- 
 net — of all the technical words that can be cap- 
 tured. Johnson began this vicious practice. In 
 his work we Hud polysyndeton, ecphractick, strice, 
 zocle, quadriphyllous , and many of like sort. His 
 successors and imitators have improved upon him — 
 Webster, as usual, far outdoing all. " His Dic- 
 tionary," — as Archbishop Trench remarks, " while 
 it is scanted of the barest necessaries which such 
 a work ought to possess, affords, in about a page 
 and a half, the following choice additions to the 
 English language : zeolitiform, zinkiferous, zinky, 
 zoophytological, zumosimeter, zygodactylous, zy- 
 gomatic, with some twenty more." Thus far 
 Trench. But it should be added that such words 
 as these, and those given from Johnson, are no 
 part of the English language. They belong to no 
 language. They are a part of the terminology 
 
 * "Again, there is a defect of true insight into what are the proper bounds and 
 limits of a dictionary, in the admission into it of the innumerable family of com- 
 pound epithets, such as cloud-capped, heaven-saluting, flower-enwoven, and the 
 like. . . . Here is, in a great part, an explanation of the twenty thousand words which 
 he [Webster] boasts are to be found in his pages, over and above those included in 
 the latest edition of Todd. Admitting these transient combinations as though they 
 were really new words, it would have been easy to have increased his twenty thou- 
 sand by twenty thousand more. 
 
 " Richardson very properly excludes all these : where he errs, it is, perhaps, in the 
 opposite extreme, in neglecting some true and permanent coalitions." — Trench, 
 " On Some Deficiencies in our E'uglish Dictionaries." 
 
ENGLISH DICTIONARIES. 383 
 
 common to science and to scientific men of all 
 tongues and nations. When technical words, like 
 zenith and nadir > have passed from technical into 
 general use, they may claim a place in an English 
 dictionary, but not before. 
 
 I have spoken of the book called " Webster's 
 American Dictionary " in terms that are not applied 
 to a thing that is a model of its kind. But as 
 I have already said, in its present form, its objec- 
 tionable traits are due merely to the fact that in it 
 a radically vicious plan is followed to an absurd ex- 
 treme. Whatever was once peculiar to a book bear- 
 ing its title was bad in itself and pernicious in its 
 effects. But as the years have gone on during 
 which the book has been forced into use by busi- 
 ness combinations of publishers and printers, 
 adroitly and ceaselessly employed, it has been 
 modified, piece by piece, here and there, and al- 
 ways in its characteristic features, until now those 
 features have altogether disappeared. As it laid 
 aside its peculiar traits it ceased to have peculiar 
 faults ; its offensiveness passed away with its indi- 
 viduality. When it was Webster's, and was " Amer- 
 ican," it was a book to laugh at and be ashamed of; 
 but now, having, by the protracted labors of able 
 scholars in both hemispheres, been purged of its 
 singularities in orthography and etymology, and 
 partly in definition, and having ceased to be Web- 
 ster's (except in regard to definitions) and Amer- 
 ican (except as to the place of its publication), it 
 has become as convenient and trustworthy a com- 
 pilation of its kind as any other now before the 
 public. For between such dictionaries as Worces- 
 
384 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 ter's, the Imperial, and Webster's in the last edition, 
 there is not a choice worth the toss of a copper. 
 In their labor-saving, thought-lulling convenience, 
 as in their serious faults, their many and grave de- 
 ficiencies, and their needless, inconvenient, and 
 costly cumbrousness, they are alike. 
 
 It is always easier to criticise, and particularly to 
 find fault, than to make or to plan that which will 
 bear criticism. Yet we all must criticise, and we 
 all do find fault, from our uprising to our down- 
 lying, from birth to death, or else what is bad would 
 never be good, and w r hat is good would never be 
 better. Nor is it necessary that we should be able 
 to cook our dinners, to make our clothes, or to com- 
 pile, or even plan, our dictionaries, that we should 
 know and declare whether they are well cooked, 
 made, or planned. As to a dictionary, I will ven- 
 ture to sketch the plan of one ; such a one as has 
 not been made, and as I presume to hope Home 
 Tooke had in mind when he wrote the passage 
 which I have quoted. 
 
 A dictionary, or better, a word-book, made for 
 the use of those to whom its language is vernacu- 
 lar, should be very different in its vocabulary and 
 in its definitions from the lexicon of a foreign 
 tongue. So a grammar written for the use of those 
 born to its language -subject, should omit countless 
 items, great and small, that must be carefully set 
 forth for the instruction of foreigners. But one 
 great vice of our dictionaries, as of our grammars, 
 is, that they are planned and written as if for men 
 who know nothing of their own language ; the fact 
 being that the most ignorant of those who take up 
 
ENGLISH DICTIONARIES. 385 
 
 dictionary and grammar have a knowledge of 
 their mother tongue that a life's study of both books 
 can neither give nor take away. In making a lex- 
 icon of a foreign tongue, it must be assumed that 
 the person consulting it is ignorant of the combi- 
 nations, the idioms, the inflections, contractions, and 
 all the minute variations of its simple words, which 
 are matters of the earliest knowledge to those to 
 whom the language is vernacular. This difference 
 between what is needed in a vernacular word-book 
 and a foreign lexicon being constantly borne in 
 mind, the first end sought in making a dictionary 
 should be the inclusion of all simple English words 
 used by writers of repute since the formation of the 
 language, at about A. D. 1250, beginning with the 
 works of WyclifFe, Chaucer, and Gower. The 
 omission of any such word will be a defect in the 
 dictionary. The plea of obsoleteness is no justifi- 
 cation for such an omission. There is no obsolete- 
 ness in literature.* The old, irregular orthography 
 is not to be followed, nor need the old inflections 
 be given ; but a professed dictionary of the English 
 language which does not contain all the simple 
 words and their compounds of deflected meaning, 
 
 * " In regard of obsolete words, our dictionaries have no certain rule of admission 
 or exclusion. But how, it may be asked, ought they to hold themselves in regard 
 of these? This question has been already implicitly answered in what was just said 
 regarding the all -comprehensive character which belongs to them. There are some, 
 indeed, who, taking up a position a little different from theirs who would have them 
 contain only the standard words of the language, yet proceeding on the same inad- 
 equate view of their object and intention, count that they should aim at presenting 
 the body of the language as now existing ; this and no more ; leaving to archaic 
 glossaries the gathering in of words that are current no longer. But a little reflec- 
 tion wid show how untenable is this position ; how this rule, consistently carried out, 
 would deprive a dictionary of a large part of its usefulness. . . . 
 
 " It is quite impossible, with any consistency, to make a stand anywhere, or to 
 admit any words now obsolete without including, or at least attempting to include 
 all. " — Trench, ' ' On Deficiencies, " etc. 
 
 25 
 
386 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 which are used by an English poet of such emi- 
 nence as Chaucer, is not what its name pretends 
 it to be. The addition of such of these words as 
 are now omitted from our dictionaries would not in- 
 crease their bulk appreciably, as maybe seen by an 
 examination of the glossaries to our authors from 
 Chaucer to Spenser. .And besides, it is to be remem- 
 bered that the voluminousness of the dictionary, 
 as it is at present known to us, is to be abated 
 materially by the next provision of our plan, which is, 
 that of compound or double words and words formed 
 by particle prefixes ; only those have a proper place 
 in a dictionary in which (i) the combination has 
 acquired a meaning different from that of the mere 
 union of its elements, or (2) one of the elements is 
 known, or used, only in combination. Thus, if 
 disease had continued to mean only dis and ease^ 
 or the negation of ease, as it does in the following 
 lines from Chaucer's " Troilus and Creseide," — 
 
 " And therewithall Creseide anon he kist, 
 Of whiche certain she felt no disease," — 
 
 there would be no need of it in an English dic- 
 tionary made for men to whom English is their 
 mother-tongue. But it has acquired a modified 
 and an additional meaning, and therefore should be 
 given as a distinct word. So should disable, be- 
 cause able is unknown as a verb ; and, for a like 
 reason, Howell's dister (Letters, Book I., Sec. 3, 
 Letter 32) ; but in an English dictionary in which 
 inter appears, disinter has no proper place. So 
 breakfast, having come to mean something less, or 
 more, or other than the mere breaking of fast, must 
 be given. But to give breakfast-room, or dining- 
 
ENGLISH DICTIONARIES. 387 
 
 room, is as absurd as to give joint-stock-company , 
 which Webster does ; and why joinlstock-company- 
 limited should not as well be given, it would be as 
 difficult to discover, as why we are instructed upon 
 fiddle-string and fiddle-stick, but are left in our 
 native ignorance as to fiddle-bow, and in utter dark- 
 ness upon the subject of the fitting tail-piece of 
 this list — fiddle-stick* s-end. Words like after- 
 thought, counter-act, and unsound have no place 
 in a dictionary, except, perhaps, in a list of com- 
 pounds under after, counter, and un ; but words 
 like aftermath, counterfeit, and uncouth, in which 
 one element is known only in composition, should 
 of course be defined. Double words, like black- 
 smith and whitesmith, in which one of the ele- 
 ments has a deflected or perverted signification, 
 should be given ; but what good end, for any hu- 
 man creature with wit enough to find a word in a 
 dictionary, is gained by giving such double words 
 as silversmith, gold-smith, coppersmith ? 
 
 Vulgarity no more than obsoleteness justifies the 
 omission of any English word. Dictionaries are 
 mere books of reference, made to be consulted, not 
 to be read. In the bear-baiting days of Queen 
 Elizabeth it might be said, without offence of a 
 vile, dull man, that he was "not fit to carry guts to 
 a bear." Nowadays a man who used, in general 
 society, the simple English word for which some 
 New England " females " elegantly substitute in- 
 wards, would shock many of his hearers. But this 
 is no good reason for the omission of the word from 
 a dictionary. Through mere squeamishness, words, 
 once in general use, are shunned more and more, 
 
388 WORDS AND THEIR USER. 
 
 until at last they are regarded as gross and low, 
 when the things and thoughts of which they are the 
 mere names are. and always must remain, on the 
 same level. If need be, no one hesitates now to 
 speak of intestines. Home Tooke has well said, 
 <f It is the object for which words are used and the 
 manner of their use that give that use its character ; " 
 and also that what are called vulgar words are w the 
 oldest and best authorized, the most significant and 
 widely-used words in the language." No man need 
 use them or seek them in a dictionary unless he 
 chooses to do so.* 
 
 Although words obsolete in the speech of the 
 day should be given, provincial words are out of 
 place in a dictionary of standard and established 
 English. f 
 
 Proper names are no part of language ; and 
 whether words formed upon proper names, such as 
 Mohammedanism, Mormonism, Swedenborgian, 
 have claim to recognition as a part of the English lan- 
 guage is at least very doubtful. Their inclusion in a 
 dictionary might be defended on the ground that it 
 would be convenient to have them there ; but on the 
 
 * " A dictionary, then, according to that idea of it which seems to me alone capa- 
 ble of being logically maintained, is an inventory of the language ; much more in- 
 deed, but this primarily ; and with this only at present we will deal. It is no task 
 of the maker of it to select the good words of language. If he fancies that it is so, 
 and begins to pick and choose, to leave this, and to take that, he will at once go 
 astray. The business which he has undertaken is to collect and arrange all words, 
 whether good or bad, whether they commend themselves to his judgement or other- 
 wise, which, with certain exceptions hereafter to be specified, those writing in the 
 language have employed. He is an historian of it, not a critic." — Trench, "On 
 Some Deficiencies," etc. 
 
 t "'Let me observe here, that provincial or local words stand on quite a different 
 footing from obsolete. We do not complain of their omission. In my judgement, 
 we should, on the contrary, have a right to complain if they were admitted ; and it 
 is an oversight that some of our dictionaries occasionally find room for them, in 
 their avowed character of provincial words ; when, indeed, as such, they havs no 
 right to a place in a dictionary of the English tongue." — Trench, " On Some 
 Deficieticies" etc. 
 
ENGLISH DICTIONARIES. 389 
 
 same grounds a chronological table, a list of post- 
 offices, or the best receipts for curing corns, might 
 well be given. A dictionary of the English language 
 is not an encyclopaedia of useful information.* 
 
 Definitions, unless we would have them sprout 
 into the multitudinous absurdities which have been 
 already held up to the light in this chapter, must be 
 formed upon the principle, which is axiomatic in 
 language, that a word can have but one real mean- 
 ing. Of this, all others — the all being few — are 
 subsidiary modifications ; and of this meaning, the 
 metaphorical applications being numberless, un- 
 ascertainable, dependent upon the will and the taste 
 of every writer and speaker in the language, have 
 no proper place in a dictionary. This renders quo- 
 tation in support of definition generally superfluous. 
 The maker of a dictionary for general use, *. e., a 
 hand word-book, is not called upon to give a brief 
 history and epitome of his language, with the pur- 
 pose of illuminating his pages or of justifying his 
 vocabulary. 
 
 Figures, diagrams, and the like (first used, not 
 in this country, but in England by Bailey), are not 
 only superfluous in a dictionary, but pernicious. 
 Language is the subject-matter of a dictionary ; its 
 function is to explain words, not to describe things. 
 The introduction of a figure or a diagram is a con- 
 
 * " It is strange that Johnson's strong common sense did not save him from falling 
 into this error ; but it has not. He might well have spared us thirteen closely printed 
 lines on an opal, nineteen on a rose, twenty-one on the almug-tree, as many on the 
 air-pump, not fewer on the natural history of the armadillo, and rather more than 
 sixty on the pear. All this is repeated by Todd, and in an exaggerated form by 
 Webster, from whom, for instance, we may learn of the camel, that it constitutes the 
 riches of the Arabian, that it can sustain abstinence from drink for many days, and in 
 all twenty-five lines of its natural history." — Trench, " On Some Deficiencies" etc 
 
39° WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 fession of an inability which does not exist. The 
 pictorial illustrations with which dictionaries have 
 lately been so copiously defaced, merely to catch 
 the unthinking eye, are entirely out of place. They 
 pertain to encyclopaedias. And, indeed, the dic- 
 tionaries of the last crop, such as the Imperial, 
 Worcester's, and the so-called Webster's, are too 
 much like encyclopaedias to be dictionaries, and too 
 much like dictionaries to be encyclopaedias. Their 
 pictures are like a fall of real water introduced in 
 Mr. Church's painting of Niagara; which, doubt- 
 less, would have been " a very popular feature." 
 
 In giving the etymology of an English word it 
 is not necessary, and is rarely proper, to trace it 
 beyond the Anglo-Saxon, Norman-French, Latin, 
 Greek, or other word from which it is directly de- 
 rived. A dictionary is a word-book of reference, 
 not a treatise on general philology. To what pur- 
 pose is it that a man who consults a dictionary for 
 the meaning, the form, or the sound of a word in 
 the English language, is informed that before the 
 existence of his language, or since, a word with 
 which the object of his search has possibly some 
 remote connection, had, or has, in another language, 
 the same, a like, or a different meaning? Whether 
 the word should be traced from its primitive mean- 
 ing down to that which it has in present usage, or 
 from the present usage (which is that for which a 
 dictionary is chiefly consulted) up to its primitive 
 meaning, is not quite clear. The latter arrange- 
 ment seems to be the more natural and logical. 
 
 In orthography the usage of the best writers, 
 modified, if at all, by a leaning toward analogy, is 
 
ENGLISH DICTIONARIES. 39I 
 
 the only guide to authoritative usefulness, as even 
 the publishers of Webster's Dictionary have at last 
 been obliged in practice to admit. 
 
 In pronunciation the usage of the most cultivated 
 people of English blood and speech is absolute, as 
 far as their usage itself is fixed. But the least val- 
 ; uable part of a dictionary is that which is given 
 , to orthoepy. Pronunciation is the most arbitrary, 
 varying, and evanescent trait of language ; and it is 
 so exceedingly difficult to express sound by written 
 characters, that to convey it upon paper with cer- 
 tainty in one neighborhood for ten years, and to 
 the world at large for one year, is practically im- 
 possible.* 
 
 Upon the plan thus lightly sketched, an English 
 dictionary might be made which would give a vo- 
 cabulary of the language from its formation, with 
 full and exact definitions, etymology, and pronun- 
 ciation, and which yet would be a convenient hand- 
 book, in clear typography, and which could be sold 
 at half the price now paid for " the best," whichever 
 that may be. 
 
 * With the request that I should give some attention to the subject of elocution — a 
 request made chiefly by readers who seem to suffer under the stated preaching of the 
 gospel — I cannot comply. According to my observation, elocution cannot be taught ; 
 and systems of elocution are as much in vain as the physicians immortalized on the 
 gravestone that fascinated the young eyes of Divid Copperfield. The ability to 
 speak with grace and force is a gift of nature that may be improved by exercise and 
 observation, but very little, if at all, by instruction. What can be profitably said 
 upon this subject has been well said by Mr. Gould in his book " Good English." 
 
39 2 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 •CONCLUSION. 
 
 It is not for lack of material at hand that I here 
 end this series of articles, which has stretched 
 out far beyond the not very definite limits of my 
 original design. I have passed by some subjects 
 unnoticed that I purposed to take in hand, but I 
 have also been led whither I did not think of going 
 when I set out. If my readers have lost anything, 
 they have also gained something in the event. That 
 it should be so was hardly to be avoided. To go 
 directly to a fixed point, which is the only object 
 of one's journey, is easy ; but a tour of observation 
 is generally brought to an end with some proposed 
 object left unattained, through the failure of time 
 and means, and often by the weariness of the ob- 
 servers. If those who have gone with me, in some 
 cases as my confiding fellow-students, in others as 
 my sharp. and vigilant censors, — a sort of linguistic 
 detective police, — do not rejoice at the termination 
 of our word-tour for the latter reason, I have been 
 more fortunate, either in my subjects or in their 
 treatment, than I could have reasonably hoped to 
 be. If I have seemed to neglect the important for 
 the trivial, and to ask my readers to give time and 
 attention to the consideration of minute distinctions 
 which they have thought might better be occupied 
 with the discussion of great principles, or at least with 
 
conclusion. 393 
 
 the investigation of the laws of speech, it should be 
 remembered that linguistic discussion, from its very 
 nature, must be minute ; that the widest difference 
 in the meaning of words and of sentences mav be 
 made by the slightest changes ; that the wealth of 
 language is a sum of trifles; that that which is in a 
 great measure determined by arbitrary usage can- 
 not be judged upon general principles ; and that that 
 cannot be tried by its conformity to law for which 
 no law has yet been established. This, true of all 
 languages, is particularly true of English, which is 
 distinguished among the outcomings of Babel for its 
 composite character and its unsystematic, although 
 not unsymmetrical, development. It is, I suspect, 
 less a structure and more a spontaneous growth 
 than any other language that has a known history 
 and a literature. Through all languages, as through 
 all connected phenomenons, there may be traced 
 certain continuous or often-repeated modes of gen- 
 eral development, which may be loosely called 
 laws ; and upon those there have been attempts, 
 more or less successful, to found a universal gram- 
 mar or system of speech formation. But upon this 
 field of inquiry I have not professed to enter ; having 
 devoted myself to the consideration of what is pecu- 
 liar to our mother-tongue, rather than to what she 
 has in common with others. Even in this respect, 
 what I have written is at least as far from being 
 complete as my object in writing was from com- 
 pleteness. 
 
 The series has been honored by an attention that 
 gratified and cheered me as I wrote. I owe much 
 to my critics ; not only to those who have given me 
 
394 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 a favorable hearing and insured it for me from 
 others, but to those who have endeavored to sting 
 me with sneers and overwhelm me with ridicule, 
 partly from a sense of duty to their language and 
 their kind, and partly that they might show their 
 readers that, with all my deficiencies, I had the 
 merit of being the occasion of the display of superior 
 knowledge, if not of superior courtesy, in others. 
 To the latter, indeed, I stand more indebted than 
 to the former ; for it is not from our friends that we 
 learn, but from our enemies. They show us where 
 we are weak. And, besides, few of mine have 
 failed, while giving me instruction in English, to 
 furnish me with the most valuable means of im- 
 provement in the use of language — examples of 
 false syntax for correction. Of these, however, I 
 have not availed myself publicly for the instruction 
 of others, although I might have crucified most of 
 my critics upon crosses made out of their own heads. 
 And, indeed, in my search for examples I have 
 generally turned from the writings of my immediate 
 contemporaries and countrymen to those of other 
 generations and other countries, or to the anony- 
 mous pages of public documents and newspapers. 
 
 Many letters have come to me with welcome 
 questions, objections, suggestions, of which I have 
 had time and opportunity to notice very few, to my 
 regret. Among the remarks I have made, none 
 was so fruitful of letters of information as my mere 
 passing allusion to the slang phrase " a continental 
 damn." The number of " The Galaxy " in which it 
 was made was hardly published before I received 
 a letter informing me of the existence in this coun- 
 
conclusion. 395 
 
 try, at the remote period of seventy or eighty years, 
 of a paper currency called continental, and that this 
 currency was worthless, and that hence — and so 
 forth, and so forth. This was soon followed by 
 others to the same effect, their numbers increasing 
 as the time wore on. They came to me from the 
 north, south, east, west, and middle; from Pas- 
 samaquoddy and the Gulf; from Squam Beach and 
 Lower California. I might almost say or sing that 
 they were sent from Greenland's icy mountains, 
 from India's coral strand, to tell me that there had 
 been Continental money in this land. They came 
 to me at "The Galaxy" office, at my own office, at 
 my house. Like Pharaoh's frogs in number and in 
 pertinacity, they climbed up into my bed-chamber, 
 and I have the satisfaction of knowing that, like the 
 frogs, some of them went into my oven. I dreaded 
 meeting my friends in the street; for I felt that 
 there was not one of them that did not long to lead 
 me quietly aside, even if he did not do so, and say, 
 "About that continental damn, I think I can set 
 you right. After the Revolution there was a vast 
 amount of paper money circulating through the 
 country. This was called the Continental currencj^, 
 and, as it proved to be worthless — " and so forth, 
 and so forth. Really, I hope my friends will not 
 misapprehend me when I say that it is generally 
 safe to assume that the court knows a little law- I 
 had heard, before the coming of this year of grace 
 1869, that, after the Revolution, there was a vast 
 amount of paper money circulating through the 
 country ; that this was called Continental currency ; 
 that it proved worthless — and so forth, and so forth. 
 
39^ WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 Yet I do not incline to the opinion that hence comes 
 our " continental damn." The phrase seems to me 
 a counterpart, if not a mere modification of others 
 of the same sort — a tinker's damn, a trooper's 
 damn ; and as the troops of the colonies were called 
 Continentalers, or Continentals, during the war, 
 and for many years afterward, it seems to me much 
 more probable that the phrase in question was, at 
 first, a Continental's damn, from which the sign of 
 the possessive was gradually dropped, than that an 
 adjective was taken from money and used to qualify 
 a curse ; and still more probable that the epithet 
 was added in that mere disposition toward the use 
 of vague, big, senseless phrases that moulds the 
 speech of such as use this one. 
 
 Among the propositions and requests that have 
 been elicited by the articles embodied in this vol- 
 ume, is one which comes to me from many quar- 
 ters, and which one correspondent puts in the 
 following attractive form to the editors of " The 
 Galaxy" : "Could not he \_i. e., the present writer] 
 be induced to prepare a book for schools which 
 would embody his ideas and all that it would be 
 necessary for scholars to learn in regard to the 
 use and construction of language, and so save 
 many cries and tears that go out over the pres- 
 ent unintelligible books that pass for grammars? 
 I am sure that a future generation, if not the pres- 
 ent, would rise up and bless his name." This re- 
 quest is made by a teacher, as it has been by 
 others of the same honorable profession. I answer, 
 that I would gladly act on this suggestion if it were 
 probable that any responsible and competent pub- 
 
conclusion. 397 
 
 lisher would make it prudent for me to do so. It 
 would be delightful to believe that the next genera- 
 tion would rise up and call me blessed ; but I am 
 of necessity much more interested in the question 
 whether the present generation would rise up and 
 put its hand in its pocket to pay me for my labor. 
 Any one who is acquainted with the manner in 
 which school-books are "introduced" in this coun- 
 try knows that the opinions of competent persons 
 upon the merits of a book have the least possible 
 influence upon its coming sufficiently into vogue to 
 make its publication profitable ; and publishers, like 
 other men of business, work for money. One of 
 the trade made, I know, — although not to me, — an 
 answer like this to a proposition to publish a short 
 series of school-books : " I believe your books are 
 excellent ; but supposing that they are all that you 
 believe them to be, after stereotyping them I should 
 be obliged to spend one hundred thousand dollars 
 and more in introducing them. I am not prepared 
 to do this, and therefore I must say, No, at once. 
 The merit of a school-book has nothing to do with 
 its value in trade." And the speaker was a man of 
 experience. Provoked by the ineptness of a school- 
 book which fell into my hands, I went once to an 
 intelligent and able teacher, in whose school I 
 knew it was used, and calling his attention to the 
 radical faults in the book, — faults of design which 
 I knew there was no need that I should point out to 
 him in detail, — I asked him why he used for ele- 
 mentary instruction a book so fitted to mislead his 
 scholars. His answer was, "All that you say is 
 true. I know that the book is a very poor one ; but 
 
39$ WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 we are ordered to use it. What can I do? " Now, 
 one of the body that gave this order was, at that 
 time, a neighbor of mine — a coarse, low-minded, 
 entirely uneducated man, who was growing rapidly 
 rich. He was about as fit to pronounce upon the 
 merits of a school-book as Caligula's horse was for 
 the consulship. The publication of elementary 
 school-books and dictionaries is one of the most 
 profitable branches of the trade, if books can be " in- 
 troduced " into general use ; but otherwise it is not so ; 
 and publishers manage this part of their business just 
 as railway companies and other corporations do — 
 with a single eye to profit. A railway company, 
 managed by men of respectable position, finds itself 
 threatened with a law restraining its privileges, or 
 desires the passage of a law increasing them. Its 
 agents make a calculation somewhat in this form : 
 To submit to the threatened law, or to do without the 
 one that is desired, will involve the loss of so much 
 money ; to defeat the law in one case, or to obtain 
 it in the other, by spending money to influence votes, 
 will cost so much less. The latter course is taken, 
 without scruple or hesitation. With the company it 
 is a mere matter of business ; the morals of the ques- 
 tion are the concern of the other parties to the ar- 
 rangement.* 
 
 * That these strictures made in " The Galaxy " of May, 1869, were just and timely, 
 is shown by the following articles, which subsequently appeared in " The American 
 Booksellers' Guide " (January, 1870), and "The Evening Mail " (March 3, 1870). 
 
 "A Protest addressed to Publishers of School-books. 
 
 "In the last number of the Guide we reprinted from the Brooklyn " Eagle " the list 
 of school-books adopted by the Board of Education of that city, and the prices at 
 which the books were furnished by the publishers. These prices were about one 
 third of those at which the books are regularly sold. They were furnished at the 
 reduced prices to influence the Board of Education of Brooklyn to adopt them over 
 
conclusion. 399 
 
 Now, were such a grammar and such a dictionary- 
 published as some readers of these articles would 
 like to have, and should they be received with 
 
 other books that were offered, and thereby to secure their introduction into the 
 schools. 
 
 "This case is only one example of what is being done all over the country by the 
 agents of the school-book houses. The prices of the books sold to Brooklyn, al- 
 though much less than first cost, are better than are obtained in the majority of cases 
 of what is called 'first introduction.' Introduction is usually effected by exchan- 
 ging new books for the old ones in use. The house whose books are thus thrown out 
 naturally seeks the first opportunity in any quarter to exchange its books for those 
 of its rival. 
 
 "The introduction of school-books has become a source of bribery and corruption, 
 which is paralleled only in the municipal politics of our largest city. Boards of Educa- 
 tion are completely demoralized. Cases are known of exchanges of bocks being 
 made in some cities as often as once a year. We shall not refer to the damaging 
 effect of such changes upon the progress of education. Pupils are little more than 
 made acquainted with the rudiments of a study as presented in a text -book, and pre- 
 pared to follow out the method of the author, when, lo ! another text-book is put 
 into his hands, and he is compelled to discard the old and take up a new system. 
 But a few changes of this kind is required to muddle the clearest intelligence. 
 
 "It is because of its effect upon the trade that we desire to protest against this 
 system of bribery, and the damaging reduction of prices all over the country. In the 
 first place, it causes a direct loss to publishers ; and, secondly, it ruins the business 
 in school-bocks of the local booksellers. 
 
 "It is estimated that the loss caused to publishers by this unscrupulous and cor- 
 rupt competition annually amounts to over five hundred thousand dollars. Nothing 
 is really gained by this wasteful expenditure, as the same books would be sold in 
 about the same proportion if it was entirely discontinued. What is gained in one 
 place by unfair means is lost in another by the same means. Whether publishers 
 confine themselves to fair methods or foul, as the same agencies are open to all, the 
 effects will in general be about equal. If this vast sum were saved to be employed 
 in legitimate channels, better prices could be paid to authors and better work obtained, 
 more could be spent upon the mechanical execution of books, they could be offered 
 lower, and, lastly, publishers would realize more money, and their business would 
 rest upon a securer basis. 
 
 " But the greatest injury is done to the local booksellers, who sell the larger por- 
 tion of the books. By publishers offering their books through periodical travelling 
 agents at one half the retail prices, the trade of the booksellers is not only taken out 
 of their hands at particular times, but their customers are dissatisfied to pay the 
 regular retail prices at any time. Th'.s has become such a source of dissatisfaction 
 that we almost wonder at retail booksellers undertaking to supply school-books at 
 all. They might compel publishers to deal directly in all cases with the schools, 
 and we doubt if the ruinous prices would, if this were done, be long continued. 
 
 "We advise some honorable combination among the leading houses to put an end 
 to this great and growing evil, which is subversive not only of educational progress, 
 but of commercial integrity. Such a combination is possible, and such penalties 
 might be assessed against offenders, by mutual consent, as would redeem the business 
 from its present repulsive aspect." — American Booksellers' Guide. 
 
 ". . . . Next to the copyright reform, the one thing needed by the publishing trade 
 is the abolition of the present outrageously wasteful system of "introducing " school- 
 
400 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 favor, they would at once provoke the hostility — 
 cool, vigilant, business-like — of men who have 
 many hundreds of thousands oi dollars invested in 
 books — in whole systems of books — planned 
 upon radically different principles. Until some man 
 on horseback comes and purges the commonweal, 
 it always will be necessary to light these men with 
 their own weapons. And even then there is the 
 fight in newspapers, by articles, advertisements, 
 and opinions from eminent gentlemen. I have 
 been behind the scenes enough to know thoroughly 
 how all this business is managed, and I would tell 
 on very slight provocation. Why, even already 
 the priests of the present idols have begun to de- 
 nounce a certain pestilent fellow, and their crafts- 
 men to cry, Great is Diana of the Ephesians ! 
 
 To publish, with any chance of success, a book 
 intended for use in public schools has become a 
 serious commercial and political undertaking ; and, 
 
 ':::'.:; As :_r reiders probably know, it is the almost universal custom of schoc - 
 book poHishexs, nrthe sake of getting their series used ando-_-:.:.; :::^ of rival 
 I : rarraslt the fixmex — at lei;: the drs: lot — at even below cost price, and to 
 take the old books in part pay, sending them to the junk dealers. Teachers ar: in- 
 duced, by the smooth-tonrurd ir=r_:s of these booses and the large com rr s s 
 which they iffer. to change books so frequently that their pupils are in a constant 
 state :: per: tae waste of books is See the pn hfishei 
 
 Aeic profits m are 'nan half eaten up by the necesnry outlays and rec rimi nat one 
 There are rwo houses in this country each of which loses ; teen r^ro and 
 
 tares hundred thousand ioHais a pear in his way, while the I : tal loss to put ii 
 cannot be much less than a radii: a dollars. We are glad to be able to state that a 
 movement is now hi k at, v hi eh bids :b:r :: succeed, tc ad doing : 
 
 Represe ntative s ::" such houses as Barnes Har per . . s 
 
 : .-p have issued an invitation :: t wenty-one firms - thir- 
 
 teen in Philadelphia, ten in Boston, it- :oar:i dbewhere, :. sen d represe_: .:.- _s : 
 meet in tits jtythe :::d :: "Ma : and continue in session until some zrrangement 
 :s made; looking :: more seasdtleand profitable relit ions between school-book pub- 
 lishers — EtH - ./ dd 
 
 "ae p-:p:-td meetiar ~tts ae!i oa d ra:is_res - ire tal-: ea . .. p ;. : : -._lppa: 
 
 an and _ : this reproach to the book trade, aad to the schc 
 b aoghout the country. 
 
CONCLUSION. 4OI 
 
 if nothing more is expected for it than its introduc- 
 tion into private schools, even then it should be in 
 the hands of publishers sufficiently wealthy and 
 adroit to make it the interest of teachers to adopt 
 the book in their schools. For if it were left to go 
 upon its mere merits, it would, if good, of course 
 meet with a certain sale among intelligent and hon- 
 orable teachers ; but this would be too small to cause 
 it to be regarded by any enterprising publisher as 
 profitable investment of money and labor. For these 
 reasons I fear that I must be content with dropping 
 what I have written as seed into the ground, hoping 
 that it may have life enough to grow and bring forth 
 fruit, although in that case others will reap the har- 
 vest. Sic vos, non vobis. 
 26 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 HOW THE EXCEPTION PROVES THE RULE. 
 
 THE few people who care to say only what they 
 mean, and who therefore think about what they say 
 and what others say to them, must sometimes be puzzled 
 by the reply often made to an objection, " Well, he, or 
 that, is an exception, and you know the exception proves 
 the rule." This is uttered with calm assurance, as con- 
 clusive of the question at issue, and is usually received 
 in silence — with an air of indifferent acquiescence on 
 the part of the thoughtless, but on the part of the more 
 thoughtful with a meek expression of bewilderment. 
 The former are saved from the trouble of further mental 
 exertion, and they are content ; the latter feel that they 
 have been overcome by the bringing up of a logical canon 
 which always stands ready as a reserve, but the truth of 
 which, admitted as indisputable, they would like very 
 much to be able to dispute. In fact, this pretentious 
 maxim infests discussion, and pervades the every-day talk 
 of men, women, and children. It appears in the writings 
 of historians, of essayists, and of polemics, as well as in 
 those of poets, novelists, and journalists. A legislator 
 will use it to destroy the effect of an instance brought 
 forward which is directly at variance with some general 
 assertion that he has made. " The case so strongly 
 
 403 
 
|04 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 insisted upon by the honorable gentleman does appar- 
 ently show that all women do not desire the passage of 
 a law permitting them to wear trousers. I admit the 
 preference of Miss Pettitoes for petticoats. But, sir, her 
 case is an exception, and we all know that the exception 
 proves the rule." It enters even into the word-skirmish of 
 flirtation. " How dare you assert," says Miss Demure to 
 Tom Crcesus, defiance on her lip and witchery in her eye, 
 " that women nowadays are all mercenary ! Don't you 
 know that is an insult to me ? " " Ah, but, Miss Demure," 
 replies the weakly-struggling Crcesus, " you're an excep- 
 tion ; and you know the exception proves the rule." 
 Whereupon the lady submits with charming grace to the 
 conqueror, having within her innocent breast the consol- 
 ing conviction that she is playing her big fish with a skill 
 that will soon lay him gasping at her feet. There is no 
 turn which this maxim is not thus made to serve ; and 
 this use of it has gone on for a century and more, and 
 people submit to the imposition without a murmur. 
 
 An imposition the maxim is, of the most impudent 
 kind, in its ordinary use ; for a mere exception never 
 proved a rule ; and that it should do so is, in the very 
 nature of things, and according to the laws of right rea- 
 son, impossible. Consider a moment. How can the 
 fact that one man, or one thing, of a certain class, has cer- 
 tain traits or relations, prove that others of the same class 
 have opposite traits and other relations? A says, " I, and 
 C, and D, and X, and Y, and Z are white ; therefore all 
 the other letters of the alphabet are white." " No, they 
 are not," B answers, " for I am black." " O, you are an 
 exception," A rejoins, " and the exception proves the 
 rule." And A and most of his hearers thereupon regard 
 the argument as concluded, at least for the time being. 
 The supposed example is an extreme one, but it serves 
 none the less the purposes of fair illustration. For of 
 what value, as evidence, upon the color of the alphabet, 
 
APPENDIX. 405 
 
 is the fact that B is black? It merely shows that one 
 letter is black, and that any other may be black, except 
 those which we know to be of some other color. But 
 of the color of the remaining twenty-three letters it tells 
 us nothing ; and so far from supporting the assertion that 
 because A, C, D, X, Y, and Z are white, all the other let- 
 ters are white, it warrants the inference that some of them 
 may be black also. And yet day after day, for a hundred 
 and fifty years,* men of fair intelligence have gone on 
 thoughtlessly citing this maxim, and yielding to its au- 
 thority when used exactly as it is used in the case above 
 supposed. 
 
 For instance, the following passage is from a leading 
 article in the " New York Tribune : " — 
 
 " The business of printing books is now leaving the great 
 cities for more economical and more desirable locations. The 
 exceptions rather prove the rule than invalidate it." 
 
 How do the exceptions either prove or invalidate the 
 rule ? In what way does the fact that there are some 
 printing offices in Boston, New York, and Philadelphia 
 prove that printers generally choose the smaller towns or 
 the country? Plainly, one of these facts has no relations 
 whatever to the other. 
 
 In u Lothair," Mr. Disraeli makes Hugo Bohun say 
 that he respects the institution of marriage, but thinks 
 that " every woman should marry, but no man," and to 
 the objection that this view would not work practically, 
 reply, — 
 
 " Well, my view is a social problem, and social problems are 
 the fashion at present. It would be solved through the excep- 
 tions, which prove the principle. In the first place, there are 
 your swells, who cannot avoid the halter — you are booked 
 when you are born : and then there are moderate men, like 
 myself, who have their weak moments," etc., etc. 
 
 * The date of its first appearance in literature or the records of colloquial speech 
 I do not profess to know ; but I cannot recollect an instance of its use earlier than 
 • the days of the Queen Anne essayists. 
 
406 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 Perhaps Mr. Bohun or Mr. Disraeli could explain how 
 the fact that the natures or the circumstances of some 
 men are such that they are likely to marry " proves the 
 principle " that men should not marry. But to the eye 
 of unassisted reason, it is merely evidence in favor of the 
 positive proposition, that whatever men should do, some 
 will marry : it does nothing toward showing that other 
 men should, or should not, either marry or do anything 
 else. If the proposition were that only men of cer- 
 tain natures and circumstances should marry, and it 
 were found that in general only they did marry, there 
 would at least be a connection between the facts and 
 the proposition ; which, in Mr. Bohun's argument, there 
 is not. 
 
 The London " Spectator," in one of the few discrimi- 
 nating judgements that have recently been published of 
 Dickens's genius, thus supports the opinion that he was 
 unable to express the finer emotions naturally : — 
 
 "In the delineation of remorse he is, too, much nearer the 
 truth of emotion than in the delineation of grief. True grief 
 needs the most delicate hand to delineate [it] truly. A touch 
 too much, and you perceive an affectation, and therefore miss 
 the whole effect of bereavement. But remorse, when it is 
 genuine, is one of the simplest of passions, and the most diffi- 
 cult to overpaint. Dickens, with his singular power of lavish- 
 ing himself on one mood, has given some vivid pictures of this 
 passion which deserve to live. Still, this is the exception, 
 which proves the rule. He can delineate remorse for murder, 
 because there is so little real limit to the feeling, so little danger 
 of passing from the true to the falsetto tone." 
 
 Now, in what way does the fact that Dickens had the 
 power of delineating one of the simple passions prove that 
 he had not the power of delineating the more complex ? 
 Plainly, it does nothing — can do nothing of the sort, 
 unless by the introduction, as a premise, of the postulate 
 that writers who can delineate simple passions cannot 
 delineate the complex ; which is not true, and which is 
 
APPENDIX. 407 
 
 not implied. Such passages as this are mere examples 
 of the habit into which the most intelligent writers and 
 critics have fallen of regarding an exception not mere- 
 ly as an exception, a phenomenon which is the conse- 
 quence of exceptional conditions, and there an end, 
 but as a proof of the rule which they wish to establish, 
 and which the " exception " would otherwise seem to 
 invalidate. 
 
 This habit has arisen, it would seem, out of a slight 
 perversion of a word. For, although an exception does not 
 and cannot prove a rule, the word exception being used 
 in its ordinary sense, the exception does prove the rule, 
 the word being used in its proper sense. The fallacious 
 use of the maxim is based on the substitution of a real 
 substantive, that is, a substantive meaning a thing, for a 
 verbal substantive, that is, a substantive meaning an act. 
 The maxim, as we have it, is merely a misleading trans- 
 lation of the old law maxim, Exceptio probat regiilani-> 
 which itself is, if not mutilated, at least imperfect. Now, 
 Exceptio probat regidam does not mean that the thing 
 excepted proves the rule, but that the excepting proves 
 the rule. Exceptio was translated, and rightly enough, 
 exception. But what was the meaning of that word 
 when the translation was made ? What is its primitive 
 meaning now? It is the act of excepting or excluding 
 from a number designated, or from a description. Ex- 
 ceptio in Latin, exception in English, means not a person 
 or a thing, but an act ; and it is this act which proves a 
 rule. But we, having come to use exception to mean 
 the person or the thing excepted, receive the maxim 
 as meaning, not that the excepting proves the rule, but 
 the person or thing excepted ; and upon this confusion 
 of words we graft a corresponding confusion of thought. 
 The maxim, in its proper signification, is as true as it is 
 untrue in the sense in which it is now almost universally 
 used. 
 
408 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 I have said that, if not mutilated, it is at least imper- 
 fect. I am unable to cite an instance of its use in any 
 other form than that under which it is now known ; but 
 it exists in my mind, whether from memory or from an 
 unconscious filling up of its indicated outlines, in this 
 form : Exceptio probat regulam, de rebus non exceptis ; 
 i. e., the excepting proves the rule concerning those things 
 which are not excepted. The soundness of the maxim 
 in this form, and the reason for its soundness, will be 
 apparent on a moment's consideration. Suppose that, 
 in a book of travels, we should find this passage : " Here 
 I saw large flocks of birds in the cornfields cawing and 
 tearing up the young corn. In one flock, two of these 
 birds were white." The conclusion warranted by this 
 account would be, that there were crows, or birds like 
 crows, in the country visited by the writer, and that these 
 crows were generally black. The writer would not have 
 said that the birds were black, but his exception of two 
 which were white would go to prove that, "as a rule" 
 (according to our idiom), the birds were black, or at least 
 not white. His exception of the two would prove the 
 rule as to the others. Exceptio probat regulam^ de rebus 
 non exceptis. Again, if we knew nothing about the ele- 
 phant, but were to learn that the King of Siam, when he 
 wished to ruin a courtier, distinguished him by sending 
 him a white elephant, — a present which he could not 
 refuse, although the provision for the proper lodging of 
 the beast and attendance on him was sure to eat up a 
 private fortune, — we should be told nothing about ele- 
 phants in general ; yet we should know, without further 
 information, that they were dark colored, because of the 
 implied exception of the white elephant. 
 
 The maxim in question is akin to another recognized 
 in law : Expressio unius, exclusio alter ius / i.e., the 
 expression of one (mode or person) is the exclusion of 
 another. This maxim is no legal fiction or refinement ; 
 
APPENDIX. 409 
 
 it is dictated by common sense, and is a guide of action 
 in daily life. If we see on the posters of a museum or a 
 circus, " Admission for children accompanying their par- 
 ents, Fifteen cents," we know at once that children with- 
 out their parents are either not admitted at all, or must 
 pay full price. Children themselves act intuitively upon 
 the reasoning embodied in this maxim. If a parent or a 
 teacher should go to a room full of children, and say, 
 "John may come and take a walk with me," they would 
 know, without the telling, that all except John were ex- 
 pected to remain. They know this just as well as any 
 lawyer or statesman knows that, when a constitution pro- 
 vides for its own amendment in one way, that very provis- 
 ion was meant to exclude all other methods. The child 
 and the statesman both act in accordance with the maxim, 
 Expressio unius, exclusio alterius. Both this maxim 
 and the one which is the subject of the present article are 
 founded upon the intuitive perception common to men 
 of all times and races, and which is developed, as we 
 have seen, in the very earliest exercise of the reasoning 
 powers, that an exclusive affirmation implies a corre- 
 sponding negation. 
 
 A rare modern instance of another and really logical 
 use of the maxim, that the exception proves the rule, is 
 furnished by Boswell in one of his trivial stories about 
 Doctor Johnson. It was disputed one evening, when the 
 Doctor was present, whether the woodcock were a mi- 
 gratory bird. To the arguments in favor of the theory 
 of migration, some one replied that argument was of 
 little weight against the fact that some woodcocks had 
 been found in a certain county in the depth of winter. 
 Doctor Johnson immediately rejoined, u That supports 
 the argument. The fact that a few were found shows 
 that, if the bulk had not migrated, many would have 
 been found. Excefttio probat rcgidam" 
 
 Johnson himself affords another example of the same 
 
4IO WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 use of the maxim. In the Preface to his edition of 
 Shakespeare's works, he opposes and ridicules those 
 critics who have supposed that they discovered in Shake- 
 speare imitations of ancient writers, and that these were 
 evidence of great learning. He says, — 
 
 " There are a few passages which may pass for imitations, 
 but so few that the exception only confirms the rule. He ob- 
 tained them from accidental quotation or by oral communica- 
 tion, and, as he used what he had, would have used more if he 
 had obtained it." 
 
 Yet another instructive example of the use of this 
 maxim is found in the following passage from Cowper's 
 u Tirocinium, or Review of Schools : " — 
 
 " See volunteers in all the vilest arts, 
 Men well endowed with honorable parts, 
 Designed by Nature wise, but self-made fools ; 
 All these, and more like these, were made at schools. 
 And if by chance, as sometimes chance it will, 
 That, though school-bred, the boy is virtuous still, 
 Such rare exceptions, shining in the dark, 
 Prove rather than impeach the just remark. 
 As here and there a twinkling star descried 
 Serves but to show how black is all beside." 
 
 According to the common use of the maxim, the infer- 
 ence from this passage would be, that a few virtuous 
 school-bred men prove, not what they are evidence of, 
 that virtuous men may be bred at school, but that the 
 rule is, that school-breeding is dangerous to virtue ! But 
 they prove that, if they prove it at all, by " shining in the 
 dark ; " that is, the surrounding vileness points them out 
 as peculiar and solitary : it excepts them ; and this ex- 
 cepting (excefitio) as to them proves the rule as to the 
 mass. 
 
 The common use of this maxim is worthy only of 
 idiots, for it involves idiotic reasoning ; a good example 
 
APPENDIX. 4II 
 
 of which would be the application of the maxim to the 
 following criticism of two political conventions : — 
 
 " We dare say, if the truth were all known, there would be little 
 to choose between the two conventions in point of morals or 
 manners. Doubtless there were high-minded and able gentle- 
 men in both, but we fear such were the exception, and not the 
 rule." 
 
 Now, if the exception proves the rule, those excep- 
 tions, that is, those high-minded and able gentlemen 
 would of themselves be evidence that the rest were not 
 able and high-minded. Another characteristic example 
 would be the following : — It is declared that all men are 
 totally depraved. But we find that A is not totally de- 
 praved. But this only shows that A is an exception, and 
 his not being totally depraved proves the rule of total 
 depravity. That such an application of the maxim should 
 be made day after day for generations among people of 
 moderate sense is striking evidence, on the one hand, of 
 the way in which the modification of meaning in a word 
 may cause a perversion of an established formula of 
 thought ; and, on the other, of the supineness with which 
 people will submit to the authority of a maxim which 
 sounds wise and has the vantage-ground of age, partic- 
 ularly if they cannot quite understand it, and it saves 
 them the trouble of thinking. Let any man invent such 
 a maxim, and use well good opportunities of asserting it, 
 and he may be pretty sure that his work, if not himself, 
 will attain a very considerable degree of what is called 
 immortality. The failure of such a maxim to be accepted 
 as conclusive would be a sign of the decline of that peculiar 
 mode of reasoning which would insist upon this failure 
 itself as an exception that proved the rule to which it did 
 not conform, and of the reestablishment of that other 
 mode which claims that, in general, the excepting proves 
 the rule concerning that which is not excepted. 
 
412 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 II. 
 
 CONTROVERSY. 
 
 PERHAPS the following letter, which was published 
 in " The Round Table" of February 27, 1869, and 
 the reply, which appeared in the next number of the 
 same paper, may interest, or at least amuse, some of the 
 readers of this volume. I may say here without impro- 
 priety, I hope, that the articles on Words and their Uses 
 which appeared in " The Galaxy" were, as is customary 
 with me, written in haste and under the pressure of a cry 
 for copy from the printing office. Although the series 
 extended through two years, not one of them was begun 
 before that cry was heard, or was ready one hour before 
 the last minute when the article could be received ; and 
 the manuscript was sent off to the printer with the ink 
 damp upon the last page. It was put in type that day, 
 and the next was stereotyped. Throughout the whole 
 series I did not rewrite a single page, or, I believe, a sin- 
 gle sentence. I generally saw a proof, which I corrected 
 at my business office within the hour of its receipt ; but 
 sometimes I did not. One of those cases in which I did 
 not see a proof was made the occasion of the following 
 communication. I do not offer this confession as an 
 excuse or defence of any essential error. A critic can 
 concern himself only with what is produced : he cannot 
 take into consideration the circumstances of its produc- 
 tion, even if he knows them. It would have been well 
 if the articles had been written more deliberately, and 
 corrected more carefully ; but had I waited till I could 
 
APPENDIX. 413 
 
 do that, they would, in all probability, not have been 
 written at all ; which alternative is doubtless the one that 
 would have been preferred by my censor. In choosing 
 a specimen of the attacks to which these articles subjected 
 me (from all of which I tried to learn something, but to 
 only two or three of which I made any reply), I have 
 taken his, because he was very much the ablest and most 
 learned of my critics : — 
 
 STAND-POINT, ETC. 
 
 To the Editor of the Round Table. 
 
 Sir : I noticed in your issue of January 9 a letter from 
 "J. B." upon the word sta?id-point, condemning it as an 
 exploded heresy, and moralizing upon the " total depravity 
 of human nature " which after such an explosion could 
 still countenance the heresy. Your correspondent informs 
 the world that " Mr. White recently in the " Galaxy," and 
 Mr. Gould, at greater length, in " Good English," have 
 thoroughly analyzed and exposed " " the literary abor- 
 tion." Such language, so unlike that of a man of schol- 
 arship or culture, led me to think that perhaps your 
 correspondent did not know very much of etymology 
 after all, and that his pitying contempt might be nothing 
 more than a cloak for sciolism or ignorance. So, being 
 somewhat interested in the fate of the word stand-point, 
 I gave "J. B.'s" letter a second reading, and found my 
 suspicions verified. He says, — 
 
 "The two words stand and point cannot be grammatically 
 joined together ; the first word must be changed to a participle in 
 order to make them legally united. Standz'^-point is English." 
 
 From this it is evident that "J. B." thinks the former 
 half of the word standing-point to be a participle ; so 
 also of turniivg-point, landing-place, etc. What will 
 he say when it is suggested to him that in each of these 
 compounds the former element is a substantive, and not 
 a participle, and that a participle placed before a noun in 
 
414 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 English, whether to form a compound or not, always 
 qualifies the noun — becomes, in fact, an adjective? 
 ym?iping-jack, dancing-girl, are examples of com- 
 pounds formed of a qualifying participle and a noun, for 
 dancing-girl means a girl who dances. Stumbling- 
 block, on the contrary, does not mean a block that stum- 
 bles, nor does turning-point mean a point that turns, or 
 landing-place a place that lands. The words mean re- 
 spectively a block which causes stumbling (stumbling is 
 used as a noun 1 John ii. 10), a point at which turning 
 (or a turn) takes place, a place for landing (= disembar- 
 kation). On the same analogy is formed the word stand- 
 ing- point, which means not a point which stands, but a 
 point where one takes his stand, sta7tding being a noun, 
 and not a participle. But stand, as the phrase "takes 
 his stand" shows, is as good a noun as standing, and 
 has the additional advantage of not being ambiguous, as 
 the latter is. "J. B.," however, evidently thinks that in 
 the word stand-poiat, stand must necessarily be part of 
 a verb, inasmuch as he talks about turning it into a par- 
 ticiple. Now he must know, for he has read Mr. White's 
 remarks in the Galaxy, that stand-poi?tt is an Anglicized 
 form of the German Standpunkt. If he were acquainted 
 with German, he would know that in that w T ord the for- 
 mer element, Stand, is a noun ; were it a verb, the word 
 would be Stehpunkt, on the analogy of Drehbank, Wohn- 
 zimmer, and so forth. This being so, why, if we may 
 say play-ground, bath-room, death-bed, may we not say 
 stand-point? Even supposing the former half were a 
 verb, why might we not admit the compound on the 
 analogy of go-cart, wash-tub, thresh-old, dye-house? 
 So much for the form of the word. But "J. B." pro- 
 ceeds : — 
 
 " Standing-point is English; but the difficulty with that is, 
 that nobody can be fooled into believing that it means « point of 
 view.' Hence it cannot replace stand-point, which people fool 
 themselves into believing does mean 'point of view.'" 
 
APPENDIX. 415 
 
 Now, it is well to remark that point of view is not an 
 indigenous English expression any more than stand- 
 point is. It is simply a verbal translation of the French 
 point de vue, and cannot plead analogy in justification 
 of its adoption to the same extent as stand-point can. 
 View-point or viewing-point would be more correct. 
 I am aware that we can say point of attack ; but that, 
 also, is a translation of the French point d 'attaque. So 
 far, then, as the origin and form of the expressions stand- 
 point and point of view are concerned, stand-point has 
 a decided advantage. It is also the more convenient ex- 
 pression, and the only thing, therefore, that remains to 
 be decided with regard to it is, whether it gives any in- 
 telligible signification. When I say, " Viewed from a 
 scientific stand-point, it is false " ( Vom wiss ens chaft li- 
 chen Standpunkt angeseheit, ist es falsc/i), what do I 
 mean? Simply, "Viewed from the position occupied 
 by science, it is false." Here stand-point has not the 
 meaning of point of view ; and, indeed, I doubt whether 
 it ever has precisely. There is no other word in the 
 English language that will exactly express the meaning 
 of stand-poiitt, as any one may convince himself by try- 
 ing to express otherwise the phrase, "The stand-point 
 of philosophy is different from that of science." " The 
 philosophical point of view is different from the scientific " 
 has quite a different signification. 
 
 After convincing myself of the inaccuracy of "J. B.'s" 
 remarks on the word stand-point, I thought I should like 
 to know what Mr. White had to say about it. Accord- 
 ingly, I procured a copy of the number of the Galaxy 
 containing the article in which his remarks on the word 
 occur. These I found very temperate, and I regretted 
 that I could not agree with him. But when I came to 
 read the rest of his article, I found so many indications 
 of want of profound knowledge and scholar-like accuracy, 
 that I bade my regrets farewell. To give an instance or 
 
41 6 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 two. In speaking of the word telegram, which he does 
 not seem to know is altogether an incorrect formation, 
 he says, — 
 
 "If engrave (from en and grapho) gives us rightly engraver 
 and engraving, photograph or photograve should give us pho- 
 tographer and photographing, and telegraph, telegrapher, and 
 telegraph tng. " 
 
 This would be true if engrave did come from iv and 
 yg&cpw; but it does not, and only a person profoundly 
 ignorant of English etymology could have supposed that 
 it did. In the first place, the existence of the verb grave 
 as a verb (see Chaucer, " Troilus and Creseide," Book II., 
 Proeme, line 47, " Eke some men grave in tre, som in 
 stone wall." Ibid, Book III., line 1468, etc.) and the 
 form of the participle engraven might have sufficed to 
 convince Mr. White that the word engrave was of Saxon 
 origin. A very common verb in Anglo-Saxon is grafan 
 (conj. grafe, grdf,grafei2), e.g., Psalm lxxvii. 58 [Eng- 
 lish version lxxviii. 58] : — 
 
 " Sva hi his jrre oft aveahtan, 
 bonne hi oferhjdig up-ah6fan 
 and him vohgodu vorhtan and grdfan." 
 
 The form s^rtfz^ and igrauen occur in Layamon^ra:^, 
 grauea, grauen (and graued) in Middle-English, and 
 grave, graved, graven (and graved} in Modern English. 
 It is only in comparatively recent times that the compound 
 engrave has replaced the simple verb. It is no doubt 
 true that grave is from the same root as ygdqxo, but that 
 is quite a different thing from saying that it is derived 
 from yg&cph). It is the same as the Mceso-Gothic graban 
 (see Ulfilas, Luke vi. 48. Galeiks 1st mann timrjandin 
 razn. saei grob jah gadiupida, etc.), Old Saxon bigraban, 
 Old Frankish greva (whence modern French graver), 
 Swedish grafva, graf, Danish grave, German graban, 
 Spanish grabar. I hope this is sufficient to show that 
 
APPENDIX. 417 
 
 the word engrave is not of Greek origin. But apart 
 from these considerations, Mr. White ought to have known 
 at what period Greek words began to be transferred di- 
 rectly into English. In the year 1500 there were proba- 
 bly but four men in all England who knew anything of 
 Greek. 
 
 Under the head of Enquire, Enclose, Endorse, Mr. 
 White says, — 
 
 " A much-respected correspondent urges the condemnation of 
 these words, and the advocacy of their disuse, because they are 
 respectively from the Latin inquiro, includo, and in dorsum, and 
 should, therefore, be written inquire, inclose, indorse. He is in 
 error. They are, to be sure, of Latin origin, but remotely ; they 
 came to us directly from the French enquirer, encloser, and e?i- 
 dosser." 
 
 There is, no doubt, a verb endosser, but who ever heard 
 of such monstrosities as enquirer and eiicloser? Only 
 writers who, in their ignorance of French and of the 
 primary principles of etymology, coin them out of their 
 own brain. The French verbs corresponding to enquire 
 and enclose are enquerir and enclore. These are writ- 
 ten with various orthographies, it is true, but never as Mr. 
 White writes them. His remark notwithstanding, Chau- 
 cer and his contemporaries wrote enquest, enqtcere, sel- 
 dom enquyre. 
 
 Mr. White very modestly confesses, — 
 
 "My having in Sanskrit, like Orlando's beard, is a younger 
 brother's revenue — what I can glean from the well-worked fields 
 of my elders and betters." 
 
 That he might have said as much, or even more, of his 
 English and French, judging them by the particular arti- 
 cle under consideration, I think I have shown abundantly. 
 I am almost tempted to leave his Latin unimpeached, to 
 spare him " the most unkindest cut of all ; " but I cannot. 
 77 a ferdu son latin. Under the head of the word Re* 
 liable, he says, — 
 
 27 
 
418 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 " This view of laughable seems to be supported by the fact 
 that the counterpart of that adjective, risible, is not formed from 
 the verb rideo — to laugh (although, of course, derived from it) ; 
 but from the noun risum — a laugh, or laughter." 
 
 I should like to ask Mr. White, first, whether he knows 
 that rideo means I laugJi at as well as I laugh; second, 
 whether he does not know that adjectives in bilis are 
 sometimes formed from the stem of the supine as well as 
 from that of the present of verbs ; third, in what Latin 
 author he ever found the noun risum, meaning a laugh or 
 laughter ; fourth, what risibilis means in Latin. 
 
 It would be easy to show ignorance of languages on 
 the part of public instructors by many more examples, 
 but I think the above will suffice to make evident the fact 
 that their knowledge is often of the flimsiest kind. There 
 are, unfortunately, in this country a large number of per- 
 sons who get a reputation for learning simply because 
 they have the presumption to write on learned subjects ; 
 their statements pass among the multitude unchallenged, 
 because the country lacks a learned class, which, by its 
 very presence, might deter sciolists from disgracing them- 
 selves by exhibitions of ignorance and presumption. I 
 wait and hope for better things. 
 
 Yours very faithfully, &. A. 
 
 January 30, 1869. 
 
 MR. GRANT WHITE CONFESSES. 
 
 To the Editor of the Round Table. 
 
 Sir : The " Round Table " of February 27, which 
 reached me only this morning, contains a communica- 
 tion, the purpose of which is, first, to maintain that stand- 
 point is a nice English compound, and last (this being 
 the gist of the matter), to make the little argument on 
 stand-point the start-point of a tilt against me, overthrow* 
 ing entirely my credit for knowledge of Latin, French, 
 English, and other things in general, and ending in a 
 
APPENDIX. 419 
 
 denunciation of "the public instructors" and "the mul- 
 titude" of "this country;" which goal, when comforta- 
 bly reached, is my assailant's sit-point. 
 
 That your readers may know whom I mean, I will say 
 that the article to which I refer is signed with the strange 
 characters " O J" which, as nearly as I am able to dis- 
 cover, are two Greek letters, named theta and delta. 
 Even to a person less ignorant than I am, these charac- 
 ters would only conceal the identity of an assailant who 
 calls me out by my own name. But perhaps he hid his 
 full terrors in kindness to me, or it did not suit his own 
 purpose to let me know who it is that is hunting me for 
 the amusement of the public ; for in the latter case I 
 might have seen that I was what the more learned boys 
 at my school called a " yov y.w^ and have come down at 
 once, thus spoiling sport. 
 
 As to stand-point, I shall have no dispute with him. 
 I shall merely ask to be allowed to say " from a scientific 
 point of view," instead of " viewed from a scientific stand- 
 point," and " the position of philosophy," instead of " the 
 stand-point of philosophy." But I hope that it will not 
 be looked upon by " Q d " as an instance of my presump- 
 tion, that I protest against his telling "J. B." that he 
 " must know,ybr he has read Mr. White's remarks in 
 the Galaxy, that stand-point is an Anglicized form of 
 the German Stand-punkt." That I said no such thing 
 as to the origin of the compound in question, will be seen 
 by this repetition from the " Galaxy " of what I did say : — 
 
 " Stand-point. — To say the best of it, this is a poor com- 
 pound. It receives some support, but not full justification, from 
 the German Sta?id-pzinkt." 
 
 " 4 " may think that because two similar word-com- 
 binations or phrases exist in two languages, one must be 
 formed by a mere phonetic change (in this case an An- 
 glicization) of the other. Such is not my view of the 
 formation of language. If your correspondent will con- 
 
420 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 suit some elementary philological work, he will learn 
 that like forms of expression are found in languages which 
 are not only without kindred, but without contact ; and 
 that such forms, being developed according to mental 
 laws common to the race, are said to support each other. 
 Your correspondent again misrepresents me by saying 
 that I do not seem to know " that telegram is altogether 
 an incorrect formation." Here is what I did say : — 
 
 ''Telegram. — This word, claimed as an 'American' inven- 
 tion, has taken root quickly, and is probably well fixed in the 
 language. It is convenient, and is correctly enough formed to 
 pass muster." 
 
 I have mistaken the force of my language if it did not 
 convey to my readers, every one of them, that in my 
 judgement telegram is an incorrectly formed word, but 
 that the irregularity is of a kind not worth making a point 
 about. 
 
 " G J" says, in relation to my remarks on the etymol- 
 ogy of enquire, enclose, and endorse, — 
 
 "There is, no doubt, a verb endosser, but who ever heard of 
 such monstrosities as enquirer and encloser? Only writers who, 
 in their ignorance of French and of the primary principles of 
 etymology, coin them out of their own brain." 
 
 Certainly I neither heard nor coined them. The mere 
 turning to " Webster's Unabridged " would have saved me 
 from such a blunder. " J's " letter seems like the fruit 
 of a frequent consultation of that work, the learning of 
 which may be had by any one in a few minutes for a few 
 dollars, even in a copy, like mine, of the old edition. 
 To say nothing of knowledge, I must have been very 
 lazy, or very imprudent, not to turn to that cheap " cram," 
 if I did nothing more. I wrote enquerir, enclore, and 
 endosser.* 
 
 * The mode and spirit of this critic's attacks— I will not say their purpose, for I 
 sincerely believe that he did not mean to be dishonest — may be inferred from the fact 
 that he again held me up as a pretentious ignoramus because in the passage quoted 
 
APPENDIX. 421 
 
 Having ruthlessly shown that I know nothing of Eng- 
 lish, of French, or " the primary principles of etymol- 
 ogy," he is " almost tempted " to let me off without fur- 
 ther exposure. But an opinion I hazarded upon the for- 
 mation of laughable is too much for his self-denial, and 
 he says of me, u Il a perdu son latin" I cannot be 
 sufficiently grateful for the tenderness and the delicacy 
 that led him to couch in a language unknown to me the 
 terrors of the sentence it became his duty to pronounce. 
 But the designs of benevolence are sometimes defeated, 
 and the mysteries of learning are not always impenetra- 
 ble. I have discovered — in what way is my own secret 
 — that the meaning of this awful denunciation is, that I 
 have lost my Latin.* But even here is hidden balm ; even 
 here, benign concession. What I have lost I must once 
 have had. I confess that I have lost something, perhaps 
 without compensating gain, since a body of learned men 
 sent me out from them with a certificate that I was an 
 ingenuous youth, of faultless morals, imbued with humane 
 letters. (If they had but known what they were doing !) 
 But nevertheless I shall endeavor to answer these abstruse 
 questions : — 
 
 " I should like to ask Mr. White, first, whether he knows that 
 rideo means I laugh at as well as I latcgh ; second, whether he 
 does not know that adjectives in bilis are sometimes formed 
 
 from "Gil Bias" (p. 321 of this volume) sans, t&moigna, qzi\ etait, and contente 
 were printed in "The Galaxy" dans, temoigna, q\ etait, and content. It would 
 seem that a minute's reflection would have shown him that as I must have written out 
 the passage from the original, I had only to copy the letters that were before me, and 
 be surely correct, even if I were as ignorant of French as I am of the language of the 
 Man in the Moon. 
 
 * My judge does not quote the words in which he condemns me, perhaps because 
 he assumed that all his readers would know their origin. Of this, perhaps, I alone 
 among them am ignorant. The earliest use of the phrase that I remember is in the 
 following passage of the "Recueil General des Caquets de PAccouchee." 1625. 
 
 " Que voulez vous ma Commere, dit une Rousse du mesme cartier, ainsi va la fortune, 
 l'un monte, l'autre descend : pour moy ie ne Pay iamais esprouve favorable a mes de- 
 sirs, i'ay dix enfans en nostre logis, dont le plus grand n'a que xij ans, il me met hors du 
 sens, i'avois fait venir un Pedan de l'Universite pour le tenir en bride : mais il y a 
 perdu son latin, il [s] seront en fin contraints d'aller demander l'aumosne si le temps 
 dure." — La Secoude Joum&e. p. 62. 
 
422 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 from the stem of the supine as well as from that of the present 
 of verbs ; third, in what Latin author he ever found the noun 
 risum, meaning a laugh or laughter; fourth, what risibilis means 
 in Latin." 
 
 I do, or did, know that the secondary meaning of rldeo 
 is to laugh at, to deride. I do, or did, know that adjectives 
 in bills are not only sometimes, but often, formed upon the 
 stem of the supine ; but also that they are sometimes 
 made from nouns. Risibilis (which I have heard it 
 whispered is not the best Latin) is, of course, the coun- 
 terpart of risible, or was when I went to school ; and as 
 to risum, at that time I met with the following line in a 
 Latin author — Horace — who was held up to me as a 
 poet of some repute : — 
 
 " Spectatum admissi risum teneatis amid?" 
 
 and this risum I translated, without reproach, " laugh- 
 ter ; " parsing it as the accusative case or objective form 
 of risus. Horace asked the question in regard to the 
 picture of " a meermaiden vot hadn't god nodings on," 
 which some Roman Barnum seems to have exhibited in 
 the Forum ; but it has since been applied to other spec- 
 tacles, as " J" may find on the publication of the next 
 " Round Table." 
 
 It is upon engrave, however, and my passing assump- 
 tion that its origin is en and grapko, that your corre- 
 spondent lays himself most largely out, here seeming to 
 put all that he knows into one article — something I never 
 do if I can help it. To prove, what I cast no doubt upon, 
 that the word grave is to be found in Teutonic tongues 
 at a period before the revival of learning, he musters the 
 Anglo-Saxon, the Old Saxon, the Frankish, Swedish, 
 Danish and German forms of the word. Here, indeed, 
 is an immense display of erudition ; which, alas ! is some- 
 thing quite beyond me, as, again, all this is in that blessed 
 and wonderful book " Webster's Unabridged," which is a 
 
APPENDIX. 423 
 
 very present help in time of trouble to gentlemen who 
 wish to appear learned in etymology — a book which I 
 confess, with tears, that I have shamefully neglected, and 
 with a painful sense of wasted opportunities, when I see 
 the prodigious erudition that its perusal has developed in 
 the other boy. I am also told that Chaucer uses grave 
 in such phrases as " some men grave in tre," which, to a 
 man who, having read Chaucer for pleasure from his boy- 
 hood, has within the last six months re-read every word 
 of him and of Gower carefully and critically, is valuable, 
 nay, invaluable information. 
 
 My executioner also piously finds a grave for me in 
 sacred ground — Ulfilas's Moeso-Gothic translation of the 
 Gospels — a very interesting and philologically instructive 
 remnant of early Christian scholarship, the many lacunce 
 in which are much to be deplored. But the example 
 cited by " & J" " saei grob jah gadiupida," is not the 
 happiest he might have chosen, as it presents only the 
 strong preterite of the Mceso-Gothic verb, with a change 
 of the vowel. The following seems more to the purpose : 
 " grab an ni mag, bidyan skama mik" Luke xvi. 3) ; i, e., 
 I may not dig, to beg shames me. For grave seems al- 
 ways to have meant, to dig, to make a hole, to scratch. 
 Very long before the time of Ulfilas and his Moeso-Goths, 
 Homer used it in the Iliad. First thus : — 
 
 u Tpdxpas kv irivaKL ktvktcq 6v/xo(pd6pa noXXd." — Z., 1. 169. 
 
 Here yodipag ev nlvuxi means, writing upon a tablet; 
 but in the next passage in which grave occurs, it means, 
 to scratch deep, to wound : — 
 
 " B^rjTo yap w/xov SoVpt, -rtpoaw reTpanixtvos aid, 
 "Aicpov iiriliy&riv' ypa^ev 61 ol dcriov a%pis 
 Aiy/Jtrj HovX.vdafxavTog." — r ., 1. 599* 
 
 Here yqhyev de ol dtrreov a/gig means, pierced to the 
 bone. Thus, even in Greek, to write, z. <?., scratch in 
 wax, seems to be only the secondary meaning of grave, 
 
424 WORDS AND THEIR USES. 
 
 which has not changed its signification or its form for 
 three thousand years, and which, in my ignorance, I 
 think, went, with other words and some letters, westward 
 and northward through Dacia into Western Europe. 
 
 My Greek initialed censor says I " ought to have known 
 at what time Greek words began to be transferred directly 
 into English." I confess I ought, for I learned it long 
 ago ; and he tells me that in the year 1500 there were 
 probably but four men in England who knew anything 
 of Greek. In very deed I had heard something of this 
 kind before ; and I connected with it the fact that the 
 word engrave does not appear in English before that 
 time. The old English-formed participle .graven I know, 
 but the English-formed participle eitgraven I do not 
 know in literature three hundred and fifty years old. I 
 am inclined to the opinion, not only that grave is a direct 
 descendant, as it is a perfect counterpart, of yq&cpw, but 
 that the appearance of engrave in English is a conse- 
 quence of an acquaintance with the Greek compound 
 eyyy&cpoj ; just as (to cite an extreme case in illustration), 
 although we find asperge in French, spargen in Old- 
 German, and sperage in English before the year 1500, 
 asparagus, not known in English before that date, is a 
 direct descendant and counterpart of the Greek uanugayog. 
 
 The editor of the " Round Table," with courteous jus- 
 tice, offers me the opportunity of defending myself. Far 
 be it from me to do so. Rather, lest I should be justly 
 placed, to use the words of my accuser, among " that 
 large number of persons" who, "in this country," "get 
 a reputation for learning merely because they have the 
 presumption to write on learned subjects," let me at once 
 confess my utter ignorance of the subject on which I have 
 been writing. Yet it w T as not until I had read the " Round 
 Table " this morning that I fully appreciated the flagran- 
 cy, the brazenness, of my imposture. Nevertheless, may 
 it not be accepted as a plea in misericordiam that I make 
 
APPENDIX. 425 
 
 no pretension to the " profound learning " of my accuser, 
 but only to some knowledge, yet very imperfect, of the 
 English language ? 
 
 I have, however, managed to discover, as I think, by 
 the aid of a gentleman who hath the tongues, and whose 
 services I have secured, at an enormous expense, for this 
 occasion only, what the Greek characters of your corre- 
 spondent's signature " & J" stand for. They are, prob- 
 ably, I am told, the initial letters of Quoaog Jvaxolov, 
 meaning fastidious confidence, or, in the simple English, 
 more becoming to one like me, and more to my taste, 
 peevish boldness. 
 
 Your correspondent has now the field to himself. 
 Having confessed all that he has accused me of, I assure 
 him that it shall be his fault if I trouble him hereafter. 
 I am, sir, your obedient servant, 
 
 Richard Grant White. 
 
 Bay Ridge, The Narrows, L. I., March 1, 1869. 
 
INDEX 
 
 A, broad ah sound of, 62. 
 abortive, 85. 
 accommodated, 34. 
 accouchement, 178. 
 accountable, 228. 
 a-doing, 343. 
 Adjectives, 203. 
 Adjectives in en, 259. 
 adopt, 86. 
 affable, 86. 
 aftermath, 387. 
 after-thought, 387. 
 againbite of inwit, 21. 
 aggravate, 87. 
 agree, 380. 
 agreeable, 380. 
 agriculturalist, 215. 
 ah-am, 242. 
 airs, 171. 
 ale-house, 154. 
 alike, 88. 
 Alford, Dean, 44. 
 allude, 89- 
 Alp, 90. 
 a-making, 343. 
 amenities, 33. 
 American English, 8, 44. 
 American style, 47. 
 anchorable, 225. 
 
 and so forth, 209. 
 
 animal, 91. 
 
 answerable, 228. 
 
 antecedent, 91. 
 
 appear, 380. 
 
 Apple, 378. 
 
 apple-butter, 378. 
 
 apple-john, 378. 
 
 apple-slump, 378. 
 
 approve, 380. 
 
 apt, 92, 97. 
 
 Aristotle, 356. 
 
 arm, 380. 
 
 armory, 132. 
 
 article, 143. 
 
 artist, 93, 
 
 as, 136. 
 
 Ascham's " Schoolmaster," 344, 
 
 as well, 184. 
 
 ate, 143. 
 
 authoress, 204. 
 
 auxiliary verbs, 310. 
 
 available, 227. 
 
 aviary, 132. 
 
 awful, 162, 185. 
 
 axed, 17. 
 
 B. 
 
 Bad, 242. 
 bade, 120. 
 
 427 
 
428 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Bailey's Dictionary, 365. 
 
 bakery, 132. 
 
 balance, 94. 
 
 banquet, 378. 
 
 banquet-halls, 378. 
 
 banqueting-room, 378. 
 
 banting, 201. 
 
 bar-room, 154. 
 
 Barrow, 344. 
 
 basin, 83. 
 
 battlemented, 114. 
 
 be, 242, 353. 
 
 bear, 115. 
 
 become, 124. 
 
 beggary, 132. 
 
 begun, 119, 120. 
 
 being built, 338. 
 
 being done, 7. 
 
 belfry, 132. 
 
 ben, 17. 
 
 Beranger, 29. 
 
 beseeched, 123. 
 
 betide, 236. 
 
 bidden, 120. 
 
 Big words for small thoughts, 28. 
 
 bindery, 132. 
 
 bird, 231. 
 
 bishop, 367. 
 
 blacksmith, 387. 
 
 blasphemy, 104. 
 
 blew, 121. 
 
 Bolingbroke, 340. 
 
 both, 88, 261. 
 
 bountiful, 94. 
 
 bowl, 83. 
 
 brazen, 259, 261. 
 
 breakfast, 386. 
 
 breakfast-room, 377. 
 
 breakfast-time, 377. 
 
 bren, 231. 
 
 brew-house, 232. 
 
 brid, 231. 
 
 bring, 95. 
 
 Briticisms, Some, 183. 
 
 British English, 8, 44. 
 
 broad ak sound of c, 62. 
 
 brother, 230. 
 
 bub, 230. 
 
 bub and bubby, 230. 
 
 Bunyan, 64. 
 
 burn, 231. 
 
 buttery, 132. 
 
 Cablegram, 234. 
 Calculate, 96. 
 calibre, 97. 
 cant, 85. 
 captain, 152. 
 caption, 98. 
 captivate, 98. 
 case, 317. 
 casemated, 114. 
 casuality, 229. 
 casualty, 229. 
 catch, 99. 
 catched, 123. 
 Caxton, 16. 
 cerse, 231. 
 character, 99. 
 chastity, 100. 
 
 Chaucer's "well of English un- 
 defined," 20. 
 chemise, 176. 
 child, 179. 
 Christmastide, 236. 
 Christtide, 236. 
 Cicely, 230. 
 Cicero, 27. 
 Cis, 230. 
 Cissy, 230. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 429 
 
 citizen, 100. 
 
 clarionet, 101. 
 
 clayen, 261. 
 
 coldine, 213. 
 
 comfortable, 223. 
 
 commence, 185. 
 
 common, 172. 
 
 companionable, 223. 
 
 complainable, 225. 
 
 complete, 170. 
 
 composite character of Eng- 
 lish, 393. 
 
 compounds with prefixes and 
 suffixes, 379. 
 
 compound words, 386. 
 
 confectionary, 132. 
 
 confined, 178. 
 
 conjunction, 324. 
 
 connection, 133. 
 
 conscience, 21. 
 
 consider, 101. 
 
 Constitution of the United 
 States, 36. 
 
 consummate, 102. 
 
 contend, 141. 
 
 continence, 100. 
 
 continental damn, 231, 394. 
 
 Continentals, 396. 
 
 controversialist, 215. 
 
 convene, 103. 
 
 conversationalist, 215. 
 
 convinced, 145. 
 
 convoke, 103. 
 
 cook-stove, 232. 
 
 copper-smith, 387. 
 
 copula, 355. 
 
 Cotton's Montaigne, 345. 
 
 counter-act, 387. 
 
 counterfeit, 387. 
 
 couple, 102. 
 
 covetousness, 104. 
 
 cranberry, 378. 
 crime, 104. 
 criticism, 26. 
 crockery, 132. 
 Cromwell, Oliver, 13. 
 Crusoe, Robinson, 372. 
 currant, 378. 
 
 D. 
 
 Decimated, 105. 
 
 defalcation, 106. 
 
 default, 106. 
 
 definitions, 368. 
 
 Defoe, 372. 
 
 despair, 216. 
 
 diagrams, 223, 389. 
 
 Dickens, 339. 
 
 dictionaries, authority of, 366. 
 
 Dictionaries, English, 364. 
 
 Dictionary, Bailey's, 364. 
 
 Dictionary, Johnson's, 373. 
 
 Dictionary, plan of, 384. 
 
 did, 120. 
 
 digged, 123. 
 
 dining, 377. 
 
 dining-room, 377. 
 
 directly, 186. 
 
 dirt, 106. 
 
 dis, 379, 380. 
 
 disable, 386. 
 
 disagree, 380. 
 
 disagreeable, 380. 
 
 disappear, 380. 
 
 disapprove, 380. 
 
 disarm, 380. 
 
 disease, 386. 
 
 disinter, 386. 
 
 disposable, 225. 
 
 disremember, 150. 
 
 dister, 386. 
 
'43° 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 distrust, 380. 
 divine, 106. 
 do, 120. 
 dock, 107. 
 donate, 205, 229. 
 donation, 229. 
 done, 120. 
 done gone, 350. 
 Don Quixote, 348. 
 downward, 211. 
 drank, 121. 
 dress, 107. 
 drive, 192. 
 drunk, 121. 
 
 E. 
 
 Ecphractick, 382. 
 
 editorial, 109. 
 
 effectuate, 141. 
 
 eg, 242. 
 
 eggs, 17. 
 
 ego, 242. 
 
 either, 261. 
 
 either and neither, 261. 
 
 electropathy, 212. 
 
 en, 239, 240. 
 
 enceinte, 177. 
 
 enclose, 206. 
 
 endorse, 206. 
 
 endure, 115. 
 
 English, composite character 
 
 of, 393- 
 English Dictionaries, 364. 
 English, pure, 19. 
 English sentence, 280. 
 enquire, 206. 
 enthused, 207. 
 epigram, 233. 
 epigraph, 233. 
 esquire, 109. 
 
 L'etat, c'est moi, 250. 
 etymology, 7, 279, 367, 390. 
 evacuate, 109. 
 eventuate, 141. 
 ever, 379. 
 ever-acting, 379. 
 evergreens, 216. 
 ever-living, 379. 
 ever-running, 379. 
 every, no. 
 ewer, 83. 
 example, 112. 
 excellent, 112. 
 except, 112, 216. 
 executed, in. 
 exemplary, 112. 
 exist, 306, 353. 
 expect, 112. 
 experience, 112. 
 experienced, 113. 
 experiment, 113. 
 experimentalize, 214. 
 exponential, 217. 
 extend, 115. 
 extraordinary, 279. 
 eyren, 17. 
 
 Fall, 369. 
 fashionable, 223. 
 father, 62. 
 female, 179. 
 female relation, 134. 
 fellowship, 209, 221. 
 fetch, 95. 
 fiddle-bow, 387. 
 fiddle-stick, 387. 
 fiddle-string, 387. 
 figures, 389. 
 first rate, 257. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 43 
 
 flee, 115. 
 Florio, 352. 
 flown, 123. 
 
 %, "5- 
 
 forcible, 223. 
 Forster, John, 48. 
 forward, 21 1. 
 Froude, 48. 
 
 Gambling, 104. 
 
 gat, 121. 
 
 gender, 319. 
 
 General, 152. 
 
 gent, 211. 
 
 gentleman, 180. 
 
 get, 116. 
 
 Gil Bias, 321. 
 
 glass, 62. 
 
 go-cart, 232. 
 
 gold, 372. 
 
 golden, 259, 261. 
 
 gold-smith, 387. 
 
 good, 109, 242. 
 
 goods, 143. 
 
 gotten, 118. 
 
 government, 296. 
 
 governments, 203. 
 
 Gower, 122. 
 
 gown, 108. 
 
 gram, 234. 
 
 Grammar, English and Latin, 
 
 274, 276. 
 Grammarless Tongue, 295. 
 graph, 234. 
 gratuitous, 124. 
 grocery, 132. 
 groggery, 132. 
 grow, 124. 
 grown, 123. 
 
 gubernatorial, 211. 
 gums, 5. 
 
 H. 
 
 Hall, Bishop. 340. 
 have, 35, 117. 
 Hawthorne, 46. 
 head, 376. 
 heart, 376. 
 help, 125, 126. 
 help-meet, 126. 
 her, 246. 
 hers, 246. 
 herself, 251. 
 himself, 247, 249. 
 his- self, 249. 
 Hob, 230. 
 honorable, 152. 
 horse, 376. 
 humane, 127. 
 humanitarian, 127. 
 hydropathy, 212. 
 
 I. 
 
 I, 242, 243. 
 
 I am going to town to-morrow, 
 
 3°5- 
 I go to town to-morrow, 305. 
 ice-cream, 127. 
 ice-water, 127. 
 ich, 242. 
 idleness, 105. 
 ik, 242. 
 ill, 109, 196. 
 impassionable, 33. 
 in'ards, 387. 
 inaugurate, 34, 128. 
 indorse, 129. 
 Indian-opathist, 212. 
 
432 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 infinitive mood, 307. 
 
 infirmary, 132. 
 
 inflection, 280. 
 
 influence of language, 5. 
 
 initiate, 128. 
 
 inmates, 129. 
 
 inquirable, 225. 
 
 inst., 169. 
 
 integrity, 23> 
 
 inter, 386. 
 
 intercess, 229. 
 
 intercessed, 202. 
 
 intercession, 229. 
 
 intrinsecate, 221. 
 
 introduce, 147. 
 
 inwit, againbite of, 21. 
 
 irregular orthography, 385. 
 
 iron-hearted, 372. 
 
 Is being done, 334. 
 
 ist, 214. 
 
 it is me, 250. 
 
 its, 241, 244. 
 
 itself, 251. 
 
 ize, 214. 
 
 J- 
 
 Jar, 82. 
 
 jeopardize, 214. 
 
 Jew, 130. 
 
 Jewel, Bishop, 339. 
 
 jewelry, 131. 
 
 Jewry, 132. 
 
 Joan, 230. 
 
 Johnson, Dr., 340. 
 
 Johnson's Dictionary, 373. 
 
 joint-stock-company, 387. 
 
 joint-stock-company- limited, 
 
 387- 
 Jonson's (Ben) Grammar, 334. 
 jug, 82. 
 
 juvenile, 107. 
 juxtapose, 258. 
 
 K. 
 
 King, 14. 
 kinsman, 133. 
 kinswoman, 134. 
 
 Lady, 180. 
 landed, 114. 
 
 language, influence of, 5. 
 last, 62. 
 
 Latin elements of modern Eng- 
 lish, 20. 
 Latin sentence, 280. 
 laughable, 223. 
 laundry, 132. 
 lay, 116, 134, 158. 
 leaden, 259. 
 leader, 109. 
 leading article, 109. 
 leathern, 259. 
 leave, 109, 134. 
 leg, 181. 
 leisurable, 223. 
 lethal, 31. 
 
 lexicon of a foreign tongue, 384. 
 liable, 92. 
 library, 132. 
 lie, 116, 134, 158. 
 like, 136, 138. 
 likely, 92, 97. 
 limb, 181. 
 liveable, 22S. 
 live through, 115. 
 loan, 137. 
 locals, 203. 
 locate, 138. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 433 
 
 love, 118, 138. 
 Lowell, 45. 
 lui, 250. 
 lui-m&me, 250. 
 
 M. 
 
 Macaulay, 339. 
 
 Mahan, Dr., 368. 
 
 manufacturer, 139. 
 
 marriageable, 223. 
 
 marry, 139. 
 
 Marsh, 46, 264. 
 
 Maxima debetur puero reveren- 
 
 tia, 284. 
 mealtide, 236. 
 meet. 126. 
 mention. 89. 
 mew, 123. 
 militate, 141. 
 milk, 375. 
 Milton, 340. 
 mis, 379. 
 misrecol.'ect. 150. 
 mistook. r2o. 
 Misused Words, 80. 
 Mohammedanism, 38S. 
 moi, 250. 
 moi-meme, 250. 
 Moll, 230. 
 moneyed, 114. 
 monogram, 233 
 monograph, 2^3- 
 monthly, 107. 
 Mormonism, 38S. 
 Morte d' Arthur, 210. 
 mow, 122. 
 murder, 105. 
 my -self, 249. 
 
 23 
 
 N. 
 
 Nadir, 383. 
 ne, 17. 
 
 necessitate, 141. 
 neighborhood, 172. 
 neither, 261. 
 newspaper, 4. 
 newspaper. English, 28. 
 normal, 34. 
 
 o. 
 
 Oak, 372. 
 
 oaten, 259. 
 
 obituary, 107. 
 
 objectionable, 223 
 
 obnoxious, 142. 
 
 observe, 142. 
 
 obsoleteness, 38; 
 
 o'er run, 120. 
 
 oppose, 141. 
 
 orthography, 279, 390. 
 
 orthography, irregular, 385. 
 
 our, 246. 
 
 ours, 246. 
 
 ourselves, 249. 
 
 outer, 170. 
 
 out-take, 216. 
 
 ovations, 86. 
 
 over the signature. 190. 
 
 overshoes, 5. 
 
 P. 
 
 Painter, 93. 
 pants, 211. 
 paragraph, 233. 
 Parsons's lines upon a bust of 
 Dante, 289. 
 
434 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 part, 145. 
 partially, 143. 
 partly, 143. 
 partook, 143. 
 party, 143. 
 pastor, 62. 
 patron. 144. 
 pea, 247. 
 pell-mell, 145. 
 perfect, 170. 
 persuaded, 145. 
 petroleum, 215. 
 philosophic, 107. 
 photogram, 234. 
 piers, 107. 
 piety, 150. 
 pise, 247. 
 pison, 246. 
 pitcher, 82. 
 place, 138. 
 poetess, 204. 
 point of view, 232. 
 polysyndeton, 382. 
 Pope, 119. 
 porringer, 83. 
 portion, 145. 
 posted, 129. 
 pot, 82. 
 pottery, 132. 
 practitioner, 216. 
 predicate, 6, 146. 
 prefixes and suffixes, com- 
 pounds with, 379. 
 present, 147. 
 presidential, 217. 
 preventative, 229. 
 preventive, 229. 
 proceed, 129. 
 progress, 33. 
 pronouns, 239. 
 pronouns, antiquity of, 242. 
 
 pronunciation, 391. 
 proper names, 388. 
 prosody, 279. 
 prove, 115, 118. 
 proven, 118, 220. 
 provincial words, 388. 
 prox., 169. 
 
 pueri amabant puellam, 2S1. 
 pure English, 19. 
 
 Quadriphyllous, ^82. 
 quite, 147. 
 Quixote, Don, 348. 
 
 R. 
 
 Railroad Depot, 148. 
 
 ratiocinate, 141. 
 
 real estate, 150. 
 
 recollect, 150. 
 
 receptions. 86. 
 
 recover, 129. 
 
 recuperate. 129. 
 
 regard, 102. 
 
 relation, 133. 
 
 reliable, 220. 
 
 religion, 150. 
 
 remit, 151. 
 
 remorse of conscience, 21. 
 
 repudiate, 129. 
 
 reputation, 99. 
 
 residence, 129. 
 
 restive, 152. 
 
 resurrected, 229. 
 
 resurrection, 229. 
 
 retire, 182. 
 
 reverend, 152. 
 
 ride, 192. 
 
 right, 194. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 435 
 
 riparian, 216. 
 Rob, 230. 
 Robin, 230. 
 rode, 121. 
 rooster, 182. 
 rose, 120. 
 rubbers, 5. 
 run, 369, 370. 
 
 s. 
 
 Sample-room, 7, 154. 
 sanctuary. 129. 
 sat, 134. 
 Savage, 120. 
 say, 89, 142. 
 Scaliger, 27. 
 school-books, 397. 
 sea, 377. 
 seasonable, 223. 
 section, 155. 
 see, 175. 
 self, 248, 378. 
 send, 151. 
 sentence. 280, 355. 
 set, 116, 134. 
 settle, 138. 191. 
 sew, 123. 
 
 Shakespeare, 372. 
 shall and will, 264. 
 shamefaced, 230. 
 shamfast, 230. 
 she, 243. 
 shew, 122. 
 shined, 123. 
 shirt, 176. 
 shoe-horn, 232. 
 short-cake, 378. 
 should, 266. 
 show, 122. 
 shrubbery, 132. 
 
 sick, 196. 
 
 Sidney's Astrophel and Stella, 
 
 290. 
 signature, os'er the, 190. 
 sjlvern, 261. 
 silver-smith, 387. 
 sin, 104. 
 Sis, 230. 
 Sissy, 230. 
 sitten, 120. 
 sit, 134, 156. 
 six-hole premium. 204. 
 skedaddle, 242. 
 slang, 4, 42, 85. 
 slavery, 132. 
 smock, 176. 
 smuggling, 104. 
 snew, I2i. 
 snown, 121. 
 sociable, 161. 
 social, 161. 
 some, 251. 
 sot, 157. 
 
 SOW, 122. 
 
 special, 162 
 splendid, 162. 
 stand-point, 231. 
 state, 163. 
 station, 149. 
 stay, 197. 
 steadfast, 230. 
 stereogram, 234. 
 Stern, 119. 
 stop, 197. 
 storm, 163. 
 strake, 123. 
 straw, 375. 
 strawberry, 378. 
 striae, 382. 
 strike, 123. 
 ttonen, 261. 
 
436 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 stole, 1 20. 
 style, 47, 63. 
 suffer, 115. 
 
 suffixes, compounds with pre- 
 fixes and, 379. 
 suggest, 279. 
 supervise, 129. 
 supper-room, 378. 
 supper-time, 378. 
 suppose, 102. 
 Swedenborgian, 388. 
 
 r. 
 
 Talented, 114. 
 
 tangential, 217. 
 
 tankard, 82. 
 
 tavern, 154. 
 
 tea, 163. 
 
 teached, 123. 
 
 tea-room, 377. 
 
 tea-time, 378. 
 
 technical words, 382. 
 
 technical words in general use, 
 
 383- 
 telegram, 233. 
 telegraph, 233, 242. 
 tenses, 304. 
 thalagram, 234. 
 the boys loved the girl, 281- 
 themselves, 247, 249. 
 think, 102. 
 those-sort, 168. 
 threaden, 259. 
 thrived, 123. 
 through, 115. 
 tid, grund's no in, 237. 
 tider you go, the tider you 
 
 come, 235. 
 tinker's damn, 396. 
 time and tide, 235. 
 
 toi, 250. 
 
 toi-meme, 250. 
 
 Tooke, Home, 358, 374. 
 
 Tooke, Home, on vulgar word? 
 
 3S8. 
 tooth-drawer, 377. 
 tooth-filler, 377. 
 toward, 211. 
 to wit, 309. 
 transmit, 129. 
 transpire, 6, 163. 
 treasonable, 223. 
 Trench, 364. 
 trial, 215. 
 
 Troilus and Creseide, 288. 
 Trollop, Anthony, 67. 
 Trollop, Mrs., 67. 
 Trooper's damn. 396. 
 true-seeming, 216. 
 truism, 168. 
 trust, 380. 
 trustworthy, 224. 
 truth-like, 216. 
 try, 115, 215. 
 turgid morality, 33. 
 
 u. 
 
 Ult., 169. 
 un, 380. 
 uncouth, 387. 
 undergo, 115. 
 understonden, 17. 
 unrepentable, 227. 
 unsoft, 380. 
 un-sound, 387. 
 unsuit, 380. 
 unwitty, 380. 
 upward, 211. 
 usage, 4. 
 utter, 170. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 437 
 
 Variance, 141. 
 Venerable Bede, 154. 
 ventilate, 171. 
 veracity, 171. 
 Verb, 355. 
 
 verbs, auxiliary, 310. 
 very, 1S2. 
 vice, 104. 
 vicinity, 171. 
 violincello, 101. 
 voices, 313. 
 vraisemblable, 216. 
 vulgar, 172. 
 vulgar words, 387. 
 
 w. 
 
 Wanhope, 216. 
 
 wash-tub, 232. 
 
 waxen, 259. 
 
 way, 148. 
 
 Webster, Daniel, 46. 
 
 well of English undenled, 20. 
 
 were, 35. 
 
 wharves, 107. 
 
 whatever is, is right, 15. 
 
 wheaten, 259. 
 
 white-smith, 387. 
 
 widow-woman, 172. 
 
 witness, 175. 
 
 woman, 179. 
 
 Women's style, 66. 
 
 wooden, 371. 
 
 word can have but one real 
 meaning, 389. 
 
 word, definition of, 199. 
 
 words arbitrary sounds, 13. 
 
 Words that are not words, 199. 
 
 words, compound, 3S6. 
 
 words, provincial, 388. 
 
 words formed upon proper 
 names, 388. 
 
 would, 266. 
 i wrote, 119. 
 I 
 
 Y. 
 
 j Yarnen, 261. 
 j Yo el Rey, 250. 
 j Young's " Night Thoughts," 
 360. 
 
 z. 
 
 I Zenith, 383. 
 
 ! zeolitiform, 3S2. 
 
 J zinkiferous, 382. 
 
 zinky, 382. 
 : zocle, 382. 
 I zoophytological, 382. 
 I zumosimeter, 382. 
 ! zygodactylous, 382. 
 i zygomatic, 382. 
 
 I &c, &c, 208. 
 
 THE END.