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 ENGLISH. 
 
 PAST AND PRESENT. 
 
ENGLISH, 
 
 PAST AND PRESENT. 
 
 EIGHT LECTURES 
 
 BY 
 
 RICHARD CHENEVIX TRENCH, D.D. 
 
 ARCHBISHOP OF DUBLIN. 
 
 TENTH EDITION, REVISED. 
 
 MACMILLAN AND CO. 
 
 J 77 v^'a-h^c ^,' ■.-.-, -rt^,-/ 
 
LONDON : PKINTED BY 
 
 SrOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE 
 
 AND PARLIAMENT STREET 
 
 /^ cp i. '^ ^ > ^M ^ 
 

 CONTENTS. 
 
 LECTURE I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The English Vocabulary i 
 
 LECTURE IL 
 English as it might have been .... 45 
 
 LECTURE III. 
 Gains of the English Language .... 89 
 
 LECTURE IV. 
 Gains of the English Language — continued . .138 
 
 LECTURE V. 
 
 Diminutions of the English Language . . 184 
 
 LECTURE VL 
 
 Diminutions of the English 'La:<gv age— avifi.'nu'd 240 
 
 * 
 
 LECTURE VII. 
 
 Changes in the Meaning of English Words . 281 
 
 352 
 
viii Co7iteiits, 
 
 LECTURE VIII. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Changes in the Spelling of English Words . 315 
 
 Index of Subjects 363 
 
 Index of Words and Phrases .... 369 
 
ENGLISH 
 
 PAST AND PRESENT. 
 LECTURE I. 
 
 THE ENGLISH VOCABULARY. 
 
 ' \ VERY slight acquaintance with the history of 
 Jr\. our own language will teach us that the 
 speech of Chaucer's age is not the speech of Skelton's, 
 that there is a great difference between the language 
 under Elizabeth and that under Charles the First, 
 between that under Charles the First and Charles the 
 Second, between that under Charles the Second and 
 Queen Anne ; that considerable changes had taken 
 place between the beginning and the middle of the 
 last century, and that Johnson and Fielding did not 
 write altogether as we do now. For in the course of 
 a nation's progress new ideas are evermore mounting 
 above the horizon, while others are lost sight of and 
 sink below it : others again change their form and as- 
 pect : others which seemed united, split into parts. 
 And as it is with ideas, so it is with their symbols, 
 words. New ones are perpetually coined to meet the 
 demand of an advanced understanding, of new feelings 
 that have sprung out of the decay of old ones, of ideas 
 
 4 » B 
 
The English Vocabulary. lect. 
 
 that have shot forth from the summit of the tree of 
 our knowledge ; old words meanwhile fall into disuse 
 and become obsolete ; others have their meaning 
 narrowed and defined ; synonyms diverge from each 
 other and their property is parted between them ; nay, 
 whole classes of words will now and then be thrown 
 overboard, as new feelings or perceptions of analogy 
 gain ground. A history of the language in which all 
 these vicissitudes should be pointed out, in which the 
 introduction of every new word should be noted, so 
 far as it is possible — and much may be done in this 
 way by laborious and diligent and judicious research 
 — in which such words as have become obsolete 
 should be followed down to their final extinction, in 
 which all the most remarkable words should be traced 
 through their successive phases of meaning, and in 
 which moreover the causes and occasions of these 
 changes should be explained, such a work would not 
 only abound in entertainment, but would throw more 
 light on the development of the human mind than all 
 the brainspun systems of metaphysics that ever were 
 written/ 
 
 These wotds are not my own, but the words of a 
 greatly honoured friend and teacher, who, though we 
 behold him now no more, still teaches, and will teach, 
 by the wisdom of his writings, and the remembered 
 nobleness of his life. They are words of Archdeacon 
 Hare. I have put them in the forefront of my 
 lectures ; anticipating as they do, in the way of mas- 
 terly sketch, all or nearly all which I shall attempt 
 to accomplish ; and indeed drawing out the lines of 
 very much more, to vrhich I shall not venture to put 
 
1. Love of Oicr Own Tongue. 3 
 
 my hand. At the same time the subject is one which, 
 even with my partial and imperfect handHng, will, I 
 trust, find an answer and an echo in the hearts of all 
 whom I address ; which every Englishman will feel of 
 near concern and interest to himself. For, indeed, 
 the love of our native language, what is it in fact, but 
 the love of our native land expressing itself in one 
 particular direction ? If the noble acts of that nation 
 to which we belong are precious to us, if we feel 
 ourselves made greater by the greatness, summoned 
 to a nobler life by the nobleness of Englishmen, who 
 have already lived and died, and have bequeathed to 
 us a name which must not by us be made less, what 
 exploits of theirs can well be worthier, what can 
 more clearly point out their native land and ours as 
 having fulfilled a glorious past, as being destined for a 
 glorious future, than that they should have acquired for 
 themselves and for us a clear, a strong, an harmonious, 
 a noble language ? For all this bears witness to cor- 
 responding merits in those that speak it, to clearness 
 of mental vision, to strength, to harmony, to nobleness 
 in them who have gradually shaped and fashioned it 
 to be the utterance of their inmost life and being. 
 
 To know concerning this language, the stages which 
 it has gone through, the sources from which its riches 
 have been derived, the gains which it has made or is 
 now making, the perils which are threatening it, the 
 losses which it has sustained, the capacities which may 
 be yet latent in it, waiting to be evoked, the points 
 in which it transcends other tongues, the points in 
 which it comes short of them, all this may well be 
 the object of worthy ambition to every one of us. So 
 may we hope to be ourselves guardians of its purity, 
 
4 The English Vocabtdary. Lect. 
 
 and not corrupters of it,; to introduce, it may be, 
 others into an intelligent knowledge of that, with 
 which we shall have ourselves more than a merely 
 superficial acquaintance ; to bequeath it to those 
 who come after us not worse than we received it 
 ourselves. ' Spartam nactus es ; hanc exorna,' — this 
 should be our motto in respect at once of our country, 
 and of the speech of our country. 
 
 Nor is a study such as this alien or remote from the 
 purposes which have brought us hither. It is true 
 that within these walls we are mainly occupied in 
 learning other tongues than our own. The time we 
 bestow upon it is small as compared with that bestowed 
 on those others. And yet one of our main objects in 
 learning them is that we may better understand this. 
 Nor ought any other to dispute with it the first and 
 foremost place in our reverence, our gratitude, and 
 our love. It has been well and worthily said by an 
 illustrious German scholar, ' The care of the national 
 language I consider as at all times a sacred trust 
 and a most important privilege of the higher orders of 
 society. Every man of education should make it 
 the object of his unceasing concern, to preserve his 
 language pure and entire, to speak it, so far as is in 
 
 his power, in all its beauty and perfection A 
 
 nation whose language becomes rude and barbarous, 
 must be on the brink of barbarism in regard to every- 
 thing else. A nation which allows her language to 
 go to ruin, is parting with the best half of her intel- 
 lectual independence, and testifies her willingness to 
 cease to exist.' ^ 
 
 F. Schlegel, History of Literature, Lecture lo, Milton 
 
I. Duty to Our Own Tongue, 5 
 
 But this knowledge, like all other knowledge which 
 is worth attaining, is only to be attained at the price 
 of labour and pains. The language which at this day 
 we employ is the result of processes which have been 
 going forward for hundreds and for thousands of 
 years. Nay more, — it is not too much to affirm that 
 processes modifying the English which we now write 
 and speak, have been operating from the first day that 
 man, being gifted with discourse of reason, projected 
 his thought from himself, and embodied and contem- 
 plated it in his word. Which things being so, if we 
 would understand this language as it now is, we must 
 know something of it as it has been ; we must be able 
 to measure, however roughly, the forces which have 
 been at work upon it, moulding and shaping it into 
 the forms, and bringing it into the conditions under 
 which it now exists. 
 
 At the same time various prudential considerations 
 must determine for us how far up we will endeavour 
 to trace the course of its history. There are those 
 who may seek to trace our language to the forests of 
 Germany and Scandinavia, to investigate its relation 
 to all the kindred tongues that were there spoken ; 
 again, to follow it up, till it and they are seen de- 
 scending from an elder stock ; nor once to pause, till 
 they have assigned to it its proper place not merely 
 in that smaller group of languages wliich are immedi- 
 ately round it, but in respect of all the tongues and 
 
 Verba enim partim inscita et putida, partim mendosa et per- 
 peram prolata, quid si ignavos et oscitantes, et ad servile quidvis 
 jam olim paratos incolarum animos haud levi indicio declarant ? 
 I have elsewhere quoted this remarkable passage at full [Study 
 of Words, I2th edit. p. 83). 
 
6 The English Vocabulary. lect. 
 
 languages of the earth. I can imagine few studies of a 
 more surpassing interest than this. Others, however, 
 must be content with seeking such insight into their 
 native language as may be within the reach of all who, 
 unable to make this the subject of especial research, 
 possessing neither that vast compass of knowledge, 
 nor that immense apparatus of books, not being at 
 liberty to yield to it that devotion almost of a life 
 which, followed out to the full, it would require, have 
 yet an intelligent interest in their mother tongue, and 
 desire to learn as much of its growth and history and 
 construction as may be fairly within their reach. To 
 such I shall suppose myself to be speaking. I assume 
 no higher ground than this for myself 
 
 I know, indeed, that some, when invited at all to 
 enter upon the past history of the English language, 
 are inclined to answer — ' To what end such studies 
 to us ? Why cannot we leave them to a few anti- 
 quaries and grammarians ? Sufficient to us to know 
 the laws of our present English, to obtain an ac- 
 quaintance as accurate as we can with the language 
 as we now find it, without concerning ourselves with 
 the phases through which it has previously passed.' 
 This may sound plausible enough ; and I can quite 
 understand a real lover of his native tongue, who has 
 not bestowed much thought upon tlie subject, taking 
 up such a position as this. And yet it is one which 
 cannot be maintained. A sufficient reason why we 
 should occupy ourselves with the past of our lan- 
 guage is, that the present is only intelligible in the 
 light of the past, often of a very remote past indeed. 
 There are in it anomalies out of number, which the 
 pure logic of grammar is quite incapable of explaining ; 
 
I. The Past Explains the Present. 7 
 
 which nothing but an acquaintance with its historic 
 evolutions, and with the disturbing forces which have 
 made themselves felt therein, will ever enable us to 
 understand ; not to say that, unless we possess some 
 such knowledge of the past, we cannot ourselves 
 advance a single step in the unfolding of the latent 
 capabilities of the language, without the danger of 
 doing some outrage to its genius, of committing some 
 barbarous violation of its very priaiary laws.^ 
 
 The scheme which I have laid down for myself 
 in these lectures is as follows. In this my first I 
 shall invite you to consider the language as now it is, 
 to decompose some specimens of it, and in this way 
 to prove, of what elements it is compact, and what 
 functions in it these elements severally fulfil. Nor 
 shall I leave this subject without asking you to admire 
 the happy marriage in our tongue of the languages of 
 the North and South, a marriage giving to it advan- 
 tages which no other of the languages of Europe 
 enjoys. Having thus before us the body which we 
 wish to submit to scrutiny, and having become ac- 
 quainted, however slightly, with its composition, I shall 
 invite you in my next to consider with me what this 
 actual language might have been, if that event, which 
 more than all other put together has affected and 
 modified the English language, namely the Norman 
 
 * Littre {Hist, de la Langue Fran^aise, vol. ii. p. 485) : Une 
 langue ne peut etre conservee dans sa purete qu'autant qu'elle 
 est etudiee dans son histoire, ramenee a ses sources, appuyee a 
 ses traditions. Aussi I'etude de la vieille langue est un element 
 necessaire, lequel venant a faire defaut, la connaissance du lan- 
 gage moderne est sans profondeur, et le bon usage sans racines. 
 Compare Pellissier, La Langue Fran^aise, p. 259. 
 
8 The English Vocabulary. lect. 
 
 Conquest, had never found place. In the lectures 
 which follow I shall seek to institute from various 
 points of view a comparison between the present lan- 
 guage and the past, to point out gains w^hich it has 
 made, losses which it has endured, and generally to 
 call your attention to some of the more important 
 changes through which it has passed, or is at this 
 present passing. 
 
 I shall, indeed, ever)^^here solicit your attention not 
 merely to the changes which have been in time past 
 effected, but to those also which at this very moment 
 are going forward. I shall not account the fact that 
 some kre proceeding, so to speak, under ©ur own 
 eyes, a sufficient ground to excuse me from noticing 
 them, but rather an additional reason for so doing. 
 For indeed these changes w^hich we are ourselves 
 helping to bring about, are the very ones which we 
 are most likely to fail in observing. So many causes 
 contribute to withdraw them from notice, to veil 
 their operation, to conceal their significance, that, 
 save by a very few, they will commonly pass wholly 
 unobserved. Loud and sudden revolutions attract 
 and even compel observation ; but revolutions silent 
 and gradual, although with issues far vaster in store, 
 run their course, and it is only when their cycle is 
 nearly or quite completed, that men perceive what 
 mighty transforming forces have been at work un- 
 noticed in their very midst. 
 
 Thus, in this matter of language, how few aged 
 persons, even among those who retain the fullest pos- 
 session of their faculties, are conscious of any serious 
 difference between the spoken language of their early 
 youth, and that of their old age ; are aware that words 
 
I. Alterations Unobserved. 9 
 
 and ways of using words are obsolete now, which were 
 usual then ; that many words are current now, which 
 had no existence at that time ; that new idioms have 
 sprung up, that old idioms have past away. And yet 
 it is certain that so it must be. A man may fairly be 
 assumed to remember clearly and well for sixty years 
 back ; and it needs less than five of these sixties to 
 bring us to the age of Spenser, and not more than 
 eight to set us in the time of Chaucer and Wiclif. No 
 one, contemplating this whole term, will deny the 
 greatness of the changes which within these eight 
 memories have been wrought. And yet, for all this, 
 we may be tolerably sure that, had it been possible to 
 interrogate a series of eight persons, such as together 
 had filled up this time, intelligent men, but men whose 
 attention had not been especially awakened to this 
 subject, each in his turn would have denied that there 
 had been any change worth speaking of, perhaps any 
 change at all, during his lifetime. It is not the less 
 sure, considering the multitude of words which have 
 fallen into oblivion during these four or five hundred 
 years, that there ' must have been some lives in this 
 chain which saw those words in use at their com- 
 mencement, and out of use before their close. And 
 so, too, of the multitude of words which have sprung 
 up in this period, some, nay, a vast number, must have 
 come into being within the limit of each of these 
 lives. ^ There are indeed times when from one cause 
 
 ' See on this subject the deeply interesting chapter, the 23rd, 
 in Sir C. Lyell's Antiquity of Man, with the title, Origin and 
 Development of Languages and Species cofnpared. I quote a 
 few words : ' Every one may have noticed in his own lifetime 
 the stealing in of some slight alterations of accent, pronuncia- 
 
lo The English Vocabulary, lect. 
 
 or another the change is so rapid as to force itself on 
 the attention of thoughtful men, above all of men 
 whose training or occupation fits and predisposes 
 them for the observing of this. But there are few to 
 whom this is brought so distinctly home as it was to 
 Caxton, who writes, ' our language now used varieth 
 far from that which was used and spoken when I was 
 born.' 
 
 Nor is it hard on a little reflection to perceive how 
 this going and coming of words have alike been hid 
 from the eyes of almost all. In the nature of things, 
 words which go excite little or no notice in their going. 
 They drop out of use little by little, no one noticing 
 the fact. The student, indeed, of a past epoch of our 
 literature finds words to have been freely used in it 
 which are not employed in his own ; and these, when 
 
 tion, or spelling, or the introduction of some words borrowed 
 from a foreign language to express ideas of which no native term 
 pi'ecisely conveyed the import. He may also remember hearing 
 for the first time some cant terms or slang phrases, which have 
 since forced their way into common use, in spite of the efforts of 
 the purists. But he may still contend that "within the range of 
 his experience " his language has continued unchanged, and he 
 may believe in its immutability in spite of minor variations. 
 The real question, however, at issue is, whether there are any 
 limits to this variability. He will find, on further investigation, 
 that new technical terms are coined almost daily, in various arts, 
 sciences, professions, and trades, that new names must be found 
 for new inventions ; that many of these require a metaphorical 
 sense, and then make their way into general circulation, as 
 "stereotyped" for instance, which would have been as mean- 
 ingless to the men of the seventeenth century as would the new 
 terms and images derived from steamboat and railway travelling 
 to the men of the eighteenth.' 
 
I. Gradual Disuse of Wo7^ds, 1 1 
 
 all brought into a vocabulary, an innumerable com- 
 pany, the dead in some departments of the language 
 almost or quite as many as the living. But it was 
 only one by one that they fell out of sight, and this by 
 steps the most gradual ; were first more seldom used, 
 then only by those who affected a somewhat archaic 
 style, and lastly not at all. And as with the outgoers, 
 so in a measure also is it with the incomers. The 
 newness and strangeness of them, even where there is 
 knowledge and observation sufficient to recognize 
 them as novelties at all, wears off very much sooner 
 than would be supposed. They are but of yesterday ; 
 and men presently employ them as though they had 
 existed as long as the language itself. Nor is it 
 words only which thus steal out of the language and 
 steal into it, unobserved in their coming and their 
 going. It is the same with numbers, tenses, and 
 moods, with old laws of the language which gradually 
 lose their authority, with new usages which gradually 
 acquire the force of laws. Thus it would be curious 
 to knov/ how many have noticed the fact that the sign 
 of the subjunctive mood is at this very moment 
 perishing in English. One who now says, ' If he call, 
 tell him I am out ' — many do say it still, but they 
 grow fewer every day — is seeking to detain a mood, or 
 rather the sign of a mood, which the language is 
 determined to get rid of. The English-speaking race 
 has come to the conclusion that clearness does not 
 require the maintenance of any distinction between 
 the indicative and subjunctive moods, and has there- 
 fore resolved not to be at the trouble of maintaining 
 it any more. But the dropping of the subjunctive, 
 important change as it is, goes on for the most part 
 
1 2 The Efiglish Vocabulary. Lect. 
 
 unmarked even by those who are themselves effecting 
 the change. On this matter, however, I shall have by 
 and by something more to say. 
 
 With these preliminary remarks I address myself 
 to our special subject of to-day. And first, starting 
 from the recognized fact that the English is not a 
 simple but a composite language, made up of several 
 elements, so far at least as its vocabulary is concerned, 
 just as are the people who speak it, I would suggest to 
 you the profit to be derived from a resolving of it into 
 its component parts — from taking, that is, some 
 passage of English, distributing the words of which it 
 is made up according to the sources whence they are 
 drawn ; estimating the relative numbers and propor- 
 tion which these languages have severally contributed 
 to it ; as well as the character of the words which they 
 have thrown into the common stock. 
 
 Thus, suppose the English language to be divided 
 into a hundred parts ; of these, to make a rough 
 distribution, sixty might be Anglo-Saxon, or Old 
 Enghsh, as it is now preferred to call them \ thirty 
 Latin (including of course the Latin which has come 
 to us through the French) ; five perhaps would be 
 Greek. We should in this way have allotted ninety- 
 five parts, leaving the other five to be divided among 
 all the other languages which have made their several 
 smaller contributions to the vocabulary of our English 
 tongue. It is probable that, all counted, they would 
 not amount to this five in the hundred. They cer- 
 tainly would not, unless we included in this list words 
 which we owe to languages closely allied to the 
 Anglo-Saxon, but which are not found in the Anglo- 
 
T. Hebrew and Arabic Wo7^ds. 13 
 
 Saxon vocabulary. I refer to those, Scandinavian 
 we may call them for convenience, for which we are 
 mainly indebted to the Danish settlements in the 
 north of England. Let me speak first of these. It 
 would be idle to attempt an exhaustive enumeration 
 of them ; but a small selection will show of how 
 serviceable a character they are, and what an import- 
 ant part of our every-day working English they form. 
 Thus take these nouns, ' bag,' ' bole,' ' booty,' ' brag,' 
 'brink,' 'bull,' 'cake,' 'cripple,' ' dairy,' ' earl,' 'fell,' 
 'fellow,' 'fool,' 'froth,' 'gable,' 'gill,' 'gin,' 'hustings,' 
 'keg,' 'kid,' 'leg,' 'levin,' 'muck,' 'odds,' 'puck,' 
 ' rump,' ' root,' ' sark,' ' scald,' ' screw,' ' skill,' ' skull,' 
 ' sky,' ' sleight,' ' tarn,' ' thmm,' ' tyke,' ' windlass,' 
 ' window ; ' or, again, these verbs, ' to bask,' ' to clip,' 
 ' to cuff,' ' to curl,' ' to daze,' ' to droop,' ' to dub,' ' to 
 flit,' ' to glint,' ' to grovel,' ' to hale,' ' to -hug,' ' to 
 lurk,' ' to mumble,' ' to ransack,' ' to scrub,' ' to skulk,' 
 ' to sprout,' ' to thrive,' ' to thrust.' ^ Then too there 
 are Dutch words, especially sea-terms, which have 
 found their way into English, as ' block,' ' boom,' 
 ' dogger,' ' hoy,' ' interloper,' ' landscape,' ' lubber,' 
 ' orlop ' or ' overlop,' ' schooner,' ' skates,' ' skipper,' 
 ' sloop,' ' smack,' ' stiver,' ' tafferel,' ' toy,' ' yacht,' ' to 
 elope,' ' to loiter,' ' to luff,' ' to ruffle,' ' to smuggle.' 
 
 But to look now farther abroad. We have a certain 
 number of Hebrew words, mostly, if not entirely, belong- 
 ing torehgious matters, as 'amen," behemoth,' 'cabala,' 
 ' cherub,' ' ephod,' ' gehenna,' ' hallelujah,' ' hosanna,' 
 * jubilee,' ' leviathan,' ' manna,' ' Messiah,' ' Pharisee,' 
 
 * For more of these Scandinavian words, see Morris, 
 English Accidence, p. 255. 
 
1 4 The English VocabiUary. lect. 
 
 '■ rabbi,' ' sabbath/ ' Sadducee/ ' Satan/ ' seraph/ 
 ' shibboleth/ ' talmud/ ' targum.' A few more, mostly 
 having to do with weights and measures, are in our , 
 Version of Scripture, and have scarcely past beyond 
 it, as ' bath,' ' ephah,' ' hin,' ' omer.' 
 
 The Arabic words in our language are more 
 numerous ; we have several arithmetical and astro- 
 nomical terms, as ' aldebaran,' ' algebra,' ' algorithm,' 
 or more popularly ' augrim ' (now obsolete), 
 ' almanach,' ' azimuth,' ' cypher,' ^ ' nadir,' ' talisman,' 
 ' zenith,' ' zero ; ' and chemical no less ; for the 
 Arabs were the chemists, no less than the astro- 
 nomers and arithmeticians of the middle ages ; as 
 ' alcohol,' ' alembic,' ^ ' alkali,' ' elixir.' Add to these 
 the names of animals, plants, fruits, or articles of mer- 
 chandize first introduced by them to the notice of 
 Western ' Europe ; as ' amber,' ' antimonium,' ' apri- 
 cot,' ^ ' arrack/ ' artichoke,' ' barragan,' ' bournous,' 
 * camphor,' ' carmine,' ' cimarre,' ' coffee,' ' cotton,' 
 'crimson,' ' endive,'. 'gazelle,' ' giraffe,' ' henna,' ' jar/ 
 'jasmine,' ' julep,' ' kermes,' ' lake ' (lacca), 'laudanum,' 
 ' lemon/ ' lime,' ' lute,' ' mattress,' ' mummy,' ' musk,' 
 ' popinjay,' ' saffron,' ' senna,' ' sequin,' ' sherbet,' 
 ' sirup,' ' shrub,' ' sofa,' ' sugar,' ' sumach,' ' talc,' 
 ' tamarind ; ' and some further terms, ' admiral/ 
 ' alcove,' ^ ' alguazil,' ' amulet,' ' arsenal,' ' assassin,' 
 
 ' But see J. Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, p. 985. 
 
 * See Archdeacon Hare, Fragments of two Essays on 
 English Philology, pt. ii. p. 43. 
 
 * See Mahn, Etymol. Ujite^'szich. p, 49 ; and the article 
 * Abricot ' in Littre's Dictionary. 
 
 ^ See Mahn, p. 156. 
 
I. Oriental and Italian Words. 15 
 
 ' azure/ ' barbican/ ' caliph/ ' caffre/ ' carat/ ^ 
 ' caravan/ ' dey/ ' divan/ ' dragoman/ ^ ' emir/ ' fakir/ 
 ' felucca/ ' firman/ 'ghoul/ ' hanger/ 'harem/ 'hazard/ 
 ' hegira/ ' houri/ ' imaum/ ' Islam/ ' Koran/ ' maga- 
 zine/ ' mamaluke/ ' marabout/ ' minaret/ ' monsoon/ 
 ' mosque/ ' muezzin/ ' mufti/ ' mussulman/ ' nabob/ 
 ' otto/ ' quintal/ ' ramadan/ ' razzia/ ' ryot/ ' Sahara/ 
 'salaam/ ' scheik/ ' simoom/ ' sirocco/ ' sultan/ ' tarif/ 
 ' tartan/ ' vizier/ ' wady/ and I believe we shall have 
 nearly completed the list. Many of these have come 
 to us indirectly through one or other of the Romance 
 languages. 
 
 Of Persian words we have these : * backscheesh/ 
 ' bashaw/ ' bazaar/ ' bezoar/ ' caravan/ ' caravanserai/ 
 
 ^ This is the Greek Kepdnov which, having travelled to the 
 East, has in this shape come back to us, just as SrjvdpLov has re- 
 turned in the ' dinar ' of the Arabian Nights. 
 
 2 The M^ord hardly deserves to be called English, yet in 
 Pope's time it had made some progress towards naturalization. 
 Of a real or pretended polyglottist, who might thus have served 
 as an universal interpreter, he says : 
 
 * Pity you was not druggerman at Babel.' 
 'Truckman,' or more commonly ' truchman/ familiar to all 
 readers of our early literature, is only another form of this, 
 which probably has come to us through ' turcimanno,' an Italian 
 form of the word. Let us here observe that in Clarendon's 
 History of the Rebellion, b. i. § 75, there can be no doubt that 
 for 'trustman,' as it is printed in all editions which I have been 
 able to consult, we should read ' truchman.' Prince Charles at 
 the time of his visit to Madrid not speaking Spanish, the king, 
 we are told, summoned the Earl of Bristol into the coach with 
 them ' that he should serve as a trustman, ' — a word yielding no 
 kind of sense ; or rather no word at all, but only the ignorant 
 correction of some scribe or printer, to whom ' truchman ' was 
 unknown. 
 
1 6 The English Vocabulary, ' lect. 
 
 ' check,' ' chess,' ' dervish,' ' emerald,' ' jackal,' ' lilac,' 
 ' nectarine,' ' orange,' ' pagoda,' ' rook ' (in chess), 
 ' saraband,' ' sash,' ' scarlet,' ' sepoy,' ' shagreen,' 
 ' shawl,' ' sirdar,' ' taffeta,' ' tambour,' ' turban ; ' this 
 last appearing in strange forms, ' tolibant ' (Putten- 
 ham), 'tulipant' (Herbert's Travels)^ 'turribant' 
 (Spenser), ' turbat,' ' turbant,' and at length ' turban ; ' 
 ' zemindar,' ' zenana.' We have also some Turkish, 
 such as ' aga,' ' bey,' ' caftan,' ' chouse,' ' effendi,' ' fez,' 
 ' janisary,' ' khan,' '■ kiosk,' ' odalisque,' ' scimitar,' 
 'shabrack,' 'tulip,' ' xebek,' 'yataghan.' Of 'civet' 
 and ' mohair,' I believe it can only be asserted that 
 they are Eastern. ' Amuck,' ' bamboo,' ' bantam,' 
 ' cassowary,' ' gamboge,' ' gong,' ' gutta-percha,' ' rat- 
 tan,' ' sago,' ' upas,' ' urang-utang,' are Malay. The 
 following are Hindu : ' avatar,' ' banian,' ' bungalow,' 
 'calico,' 'chintz,' 'coolie,' 'cowrie,' 'curry,' 'jungle,' 
 ' lac,' ' loot,' ' musHn,' ' pariah,' ' punch,' ' pundit,' 
 * rajah,' 'rice,' 'rupee,' 'thug,' 'toddy.' 'Tea,' or 
 ' tcha,' as it was once spelt, ' bohea,' ' hyson,' ' sou- 
 chong,' are Chinese; so too are 'caddy,' 'junk,' 
 ' hong,' ' nankeen,' ' satin ; ' while ' bonze ' is Japanese. 
 To come nearer home — we have a certain number 
 of Italian words, as ' ambuscade,' 'bagatelle,' ' balcony,' 
 ' baldachin,' ' balustrade,' ' bandit,' ' bankrupt,' ' ban- 
 quet,' ' biretta,' ' bravo,' ' broccoU,' ' buffoon,' ' bur- 
 lesque,' ' bust ' (it was ' busto ' at first, drawn there- 
 fore from the Italian, not from the French), ' cadence,' 
 ' cameo,' ' canto,' ' capuchin,' ' caricature,' ' carnival,' 
 ' cartoon,' ' cartouche,' ' cascade,' ' casemate,' ' casino,' 
 ' catafalque,' ' cavalcade,' ' charlatan,' ' citadel,' ' colon- 
 nade,' ' concert,' ' conversazione,' ' corridor,' ' cupola,' 
 ' curvet,' ' dilettante,' ' ditto,' ' doge,' ' domino,' ' ex- 
 
I. Italian and Spanish Words. 1 7 
 
 travaganza,' 'fiasco,' 'filagree,' 'folio,' 'fresco,' 'ga- 
 bion,' 'gazette,' 'generalissimo,' 'gondola,' 'gonfalon,' 
 'grotto' ('grotta' in Bacon), 'gusto,' 'harlequin,' 
 ' imbroglio,' ' inamorato,' ' influenza,' ' intaglio,' ' la- 
 goon,' 'lava,' 'lavolta,' 'lazaretto,' 'macaroni,' 'ma- 
 donna,' ' madrepore,' ' madrigal,' 'malaria,' ' manifesto,' 
 ' maraschino,' ' masquerade ' (' mascarata' in Hacket), 
 'mezzotint,' 'motett,' 'motto,' 'moustachio' ('mos- 
 taccio ' in Ben Jonson), ' nuncio,' ' opera,' ' oratorio,' 
 ' pantaloon,' ' parapet,' ' pedant,' ' pedantry,' ' piano- 
 forte,' ' piaster,' ' piazza/ ' portico,' ' protocol,' ' pro- 
 viso,' ' regatta,' ' ridotto,' ' rocket,' ' ruffian,' ' scara- 
 mouch,' ' seraglio,' ' serenade,' ' sirocco,' ' sketch,' 
 ' solo,' ' sonnet,' ' stanza,' ' stiletto,' ' stucco,' ' studio,' 
 ' tarantula,' ' terrace,' ' terracotta,' ' torso,' ' trombone,' 
 ' umbrella,' ' vedette,' ' vermicelli,' ' violoncello,' ' vir- 
 tuoso,' 'vista,' 'volcano,' 'zany.' Others, once com- 
 mon enough, as ' battalia ' (' battaglia '), ' becco,' 
 ' bordello,' ' cornuto,' ' fantastico,' ' impresa ' (the 
 armorial device on shields), ' magnifico,' ' malgrado,' 
 ( = maugre), 'mandilion,' ' saltimbanco ' ( = moun- 
 tebank), are now obsolete. Sylvester has ' farfalla ' 
 for butterfly, but, so far as I know, this use is peculiar 
 to him. 
 
 If this is at all a complete collection of our Italian 
 words, the Spanish in the language are nearly as nu- 
 merous. It would be nothing wonderful if they were 
 more ; for although our literary relations with Spain 
 have been slight indeed as compared with those 
 which we have maintained with Italy, we have had 
 other points of contact, friendly and hostile, with the 
 former much more real than we have known with the 
 latter. Thus we have from the Spanish, ' albino,' 
 
 c 
 
1 8 The E^tglish Vocabulary. lect. 
 
 ' alligator ' (el lagarto), ' armada/ ' armadillo/ ' bar- 
 ricade/ ' bastinado/ ' bolero/ ' bravado/ ' buffalo ' 
 ('buff' or ' buffle ' is the proper English word), 
 'camarilla/ 'cambist/ 'camisado/ 'cannibal/ 'cap- 
 stan/ ' caracole/ ' caravel/ ' carbonado/ ' cargo/ 
 ' carrack/ ' cartel/ ' chocolate/ ' chopine/ ' cigar/ 
 ' cochineal/ ' commodore,' ' Creole,' ' desperado,' 
 ' don,' ' duenna,' ' eldorado,' ' embargo,' ' fandango,' 
 ' farthingale,' ' filibuster,' ' flamingo ' (flamenco), 
 ' flotilla,' ' gala,' ' garotte,' ' grandee,' ' grenade,' 
 ' guerilla,' ' hackney,' ' hooker,' ^ ' indigo,' ' infanta,' 
 ' jennet,' ' junto,' ' maravedi,' ' maroon,' ^ ' matadore,' 
 ' merino,' ' molasses,' ' mosquito,' ' mulatto,' ' negro/ 
 ' olio,' ' ombre,' ' palaver,' ' parade,' ' paragon,' ' para- 
 sol,' ' paiToquet,' ' peccadillo,' ' picaroon,' ' pimento,' 
 ' pintado,' ' platina,' ' poncho,' ' punctilio ' (for a long 
 time spelt ' puntillo ' in English books), ' quinine,' 
 ' reformado,' ' salver,' ' sarsaparilla,' ' sassafras,' 
 ' sherry,' ' soda,' ' stampede,' ' stoccado,' ' strappado,' 
 ' tornado,' ' vanilla,' ' verandah.' ' Caprice ' too we 
 obtained rather from Spain than Italy ; it was written 
 ' capricho ' by those who used it first. Other Spanish 
 words, once familiar, are now extinct. ' Punctilio ' 
 lives on, but not ' punto,' which is common enough in 
 
 ' Not in our dictionaries ; but a kind of coasting vessel well 
 known to seafaring men, the Spanish 'urea;' thus in Oldy's 
 Life of Raleigh : ' Their galleons, galleasses, gallies, ureas, and 
 zabras were miserably shattered,' 
 
 - A ' maroon ' is a negro who has escaped to the woods, and 
 there lives wild. The word is a corruption of 'cimarron,' sig- 
 nifying wild in Spanish. In our earher discoverers it still 
 retains its shape (Drake WTites it ' symaron '), though not its 
 spelling. See Notes and Queries^ 1866, p, 86. 
 
I. Porhtgtcese, Celtic, Indian Words. 19 
 
 Bacon. ' Privado/ a prince's favourite, one admitted 
 to \i\'s> privacy (frequent in Jeremy Taylor and Fuller), 
 has disappeared ; so too have ' quirpo ' (cuerpo), 
 a jacket fitting close to the body ; ' quelHo ' (cueilo), 
 a ruff or 7ieck-co\\cir ; ' matachin,' the title of a sword- 
 dance ; ' picaro,' equivalent to rogue, but to rogue of 
 the Gil Bias type ; ' primero,' a favourite game at 
 cards ; all frequent in our early dramatists ; and 
 ' flota,' the constant name of the treasure-fleet from 
 the Indies. ^ Intermess,' employed by Evelyn, is 
 the Spanish ' entremes,' though not recognized as 
 such in our dictionaries. ' Albatross,' ' assinego ' 
 (now obsolete), ' bayadere ' (bailadeira), ' caste,' 
 'cobra,' 'fetish,' 'gentoo,' 'mandarin,' 'marmalade,' 
 ' moidore,' ' palanquin,' ^ porcelain,' ' yam,' are Portu- 
 guese. 
 
 Celtic thtfigs for the most part we designate by 
 Celtic words ; such as ' bannock,' ' bard,' ' brogues,' 
 ' clan,' ' claymore,' ' cromlech,' ' fillibeg,' ' kilt,' ' pi- 
 broch,' ' plaid,' ' reel,' ' shamrock,' ' slogan,' ' usque- 
 baugh,' ' whiskey.' These which I have just named 
 are for the most part words of comparatively recent 
 introduction. 'Bog,' 'glen,' 'kiln,' 'kibe,' 'mop,' 
 ' mug,' ' mattock,' ' noggin,' with many more, how 
 many is yet a very unsettled question, which at earlier 
 dates found admission into our tongue, are derived 
 from this same quarter.^ 
 
 Then too the New World has given us a certain 
 number of words, Indian and other — ' agouti ' (Bra- 
 
 * See Koch, Hist. Gram, der Englischen Sprache, vol. i. p. 4; 
 Morris, English Accidence, p. 253 ; Earle, Philology of the 
 English Tongue, p. 20, sqq. 
 
 c 2 
 
20 The English Vocabulary. lect. 
 
 zilian), ' anana ' or ' ananas ' (the same), ' buccaneer/ 
 ' cacique ' (' cassiqui/ in Raleigh's Guiana), ' caiman/ 
 ' cahniiet/ ' canoe/ ' caribou/ ' catalpa/ ' caoutchouc ' 
 (South American), ' chocolate/ ' cocoa,' ' condor ' 
 ' guano ' (Peruvian), ' hamoc' (' hamaca ' in Raleigh), 
 'hominy,' 'inca,' 'jaguar,' 'jalap,' 'lama,' 'ma- 
 hogany,' 'maize' (Haytian), ' manitee,' 'mocassin,' 
 ' mohawk,' ' opossum,' ' pampas,' ' pappoos,' ' pemmi- 
 can,' ' pirogue,' ' potato ' (' batata ' in our earlier 
 voyagers), 'puma' (Peruvian), 'raccoon,' 'sachem,' 
 'samp,' 'savannah' (Haytian), 'skunk,' 'squaw,' 
 ' tapioca ' (Brazilian), ' tobacco,' ' tomahawk,' ' tomata' 
 (Mexican), 'wampum,' 'wigwam,' ' ypecacuanha.' 
 If ' hurricane ' was originally obtained from the Carib- 
 bean islanders,^ it should be included in this list. 
 
 We may notice, finally, languages which have be- 
 stowed on us some single word, or two perhaps, or 
 three. Thus, ' hussar,' ' uhlan,' are Hungarian ; ' het- 
 man,' ' polka,' Polish ; ' czar,' ' drosky,' ' knout,' 
 ' kopeck,' ' rouble,' ' ukase,' Russian ; ' vampire,' 
 Servian 3 ' caloyer,' Romaic ; ' mammoth,' of some 
 Siberian language ; ' taboo,' ' tattoo,' Polynesian ; 
 ' caviar,' ' steppe,' Tartarian ; ' gingham,' Javanese ; 
 the language of New Zealand will bequeath us ' pah ' 
 and Australian ' boomerang ; ' while ' assegai,' ' chim- 
 panzee,' 'gnu,' 'kraal,' ' quagga,' ' zebra,' belong to 
 various African dialects. 
 
 . Now I have no right to assume that any among 
 those to whom I speak are equipped with that know- 
 ledge of other tongues, which shall enable them to 
 
 ' See Washington Irving, L/fe and Voyages of Columbus^ 
 b. viii. c. 9. 
 
I. Two Shapes of one Word, 2 1 
 
 detect at once the nationality of all or most of the 
 words which they meet — some of these greatly dis- 
 guised, and having undergone manifold transformations 
 in the process of their adoption among us ; but only 
 that you have such helps at command in the shape of 
 dictionaries and the like, and so much diligence in the 
 use of these, as will enable you to trace out their birth 
 and parentage. But possessing this much, I am confi- 
 dent to affirm that few studies will be more fruitful, 
 will suggest more various matter of reflection, will 
 more lead you into the secrets of the English tongue, 
 than an analysis of passages drawn from different 
 authors, such as I have just now proposed. Thus you 
 will take some passage of English verse or prose — say 
 the first ten lines of Paradise Lost — or the Lord's 
 Prayer — or the 23rd Psalm ; you will distribute the 
 whole body of words which occur in that passage, of 
 course not omitting the smallest, according to their 
 nationalities — writing, it may be, A over every Anglo- 
 Saxon word, L over every Latin, and so on with the 
 others, should any other find room in the portion 
 submitted to examination. This done, you will count 
 up the number of those which each language contri- 
 butes ; again, you will note the character of the words 
 derived from each quarter. 
 
 Yet here, before passing further, let me note that 
 in dealing with Latin words it will be well also to 
 mark whether they are directly from it, and such might 
 be marked L^, or only mediately, and to us directly 
 from the French, which would be L^, or Latin at 
 second hand. A rule holds generally good, by which 
 you may determine this. If a word be directly from 
 the Latin, it will have undergone little or no modifica- 
 
2 2 The English Vocabulary. lect. 
 
 tion in its form and shape, save only in the termination. 
 ' Innocentia ' will have become ' innocency/ ' natio ' 
 ' nation,' ' firmamentum ' ' firmament,' but this will be 
 all. On the other hand, if it comes tJuvtigh the 
 French, it will have undergone a process of lubrica- 
 tion ; its sharply defined Latin outline will in good part 
 have disappeared ; thus ' crown ' is from ' corona,' but 
 through '■ couronne,' and itself a dissyllable, ' coroune,' 
 in our earlier English ; ' treasure ' is from ' thesaurus,' 
 but through ' tresor ; ' ' emperor ' is the Latin ' impe- 
 rator,' but it was first ' empereur.' It will often happen 
 that the substantive has thus reached us through the 
 intervention of the French ; while we have only felt 
 at a later period our need of the adjective as well, 
 which we have proceeded to borrow direct from the 
 Latin. Thus 'people' is 'populus,' but it was 'peuple' 
 first, while ' popular ' is a direct transfer of a Latin 
 vocable into our English glossary ; 'enemy' is 'inimi- 
 cus,' but it was first softened in the French, and 
 had its Latin physiognomy in good part obliterated, 
 while ' inimical ' is Latin throughout ; ' parish ' is 
 ' paroisse,' but ' parochial ' is ' parochialis ; ' ' chapter ' 
 is ' chapitre,' but ' capitular ' is ' capitularis.' 
 
 Sometimes you will firid a Latin word to have been 
 twice adopted by us, and now making part of our 
 vocabulary in two shapes ; ' doppelganger ' the Ger- 
 mans would call such. There is first the older word, 
 which the French has given us ; but which, before it 
 gave, it had fashioned and moulded ; clipping or con- 
 tracting, it may be, by a syllable or more, for the 
 French devours letters and syllables ; and there is the 
 younger, borrowed at first hand from the Latin. Thus 
 ' secure ' and ' sure ' are both from ' securus,' but one 
 
Double Adoption of Wo7^ds. '^^ 
 
 - C) 
 
 directly, the other through the French ; ' fidelity ' and 
 'fealty/ both from 'fidelitas/ but one directly, the 
 other at second hand ; ' species ' and ' spice,' both from 
 ' species,' spices being properly only kuids of aromatic 
 drugs ; ' blaspheme ' and ' blame,' both from ' blas- 
 phemare,' ^ but ' blame,' immediately from ' blamer.' 
 Add to these ' granary ' and ' garner ; ' ' captain ' (capi- 
 taneus) and ' chieftain ; ' ' tradition ' and ' treason ; ' 
 ' rapine ' and ' ravin ; ' ' abyss ' and ' abysm ; ' ' phantasm ' 
 and ' phantom ; ' ' coffin ' and ' coffer ; ' ' regal ' and 
 'royal ; ' ' legal ' and 'loyal ;' ' cadence ' and ' chance ;' 
 ' balsam ' and ' balm ; ' ' hospital ' and ' hotel; '' digit ' 
 and ' doit ; ' ' pagan ' and ' paynim ; ' ' captive ' and 
 ' caitiff ; ' ' persecute ' and ' pursue ; ' ' aggravate ' and 
 ' aggrieve ; ' ' superficies ' and ' surface ; ' ' sacristan ' 
 and ' sexton ; ' ' faction ' and ' fashion ; ' ' secure ' and 
 ' sure ;' ' particle ' and ' parcel ; ' 'redemption ' and ' ran- 
 som ; ' ' probe ' and ' prove ; ' ' abbreviate ' and ' abridge ; ' 
 ' dormitory '" and ' dortoir ' or ' dorter ' (this last now 
 obsolete, but not uncommon in Jeremy Taylor) ; 'desi- 
 derate ' and ' desire ; ' ' compute ' and ' count ; ' ' fact ' 
 and ' feat ; ' ' esteem ' and ' aim ; ' ' major' and ' mayor ; ' 
 ' radius ' and ' ray ; ' ' pauper ' and ' poor ; ' ' potion ' 
 and ' poison ; ' ' ration ' and ' reason ; ' ' oration ' and 
 ' orison ; ' ' penitence ' and ' penance ; ' ' zealous ' and 
 'jealous ;" respect' and 'respite ;' 'fragile' and 'frail ;' 
 ' calix ' and ' chalice ; ' ' fabric ' and ' forge ; ' ' quiet ' 
 and ' coy ; ' ' compt ' (now obsolete) and ' quaint ; ' 
 ' tract,' ' treat,' and ' trait.' ^ I have in the instancing 
 
 ' This particular instance of * dimorphism ' as Latham calls 
 it, ' dittology ' as Heyse, recurs in Italian, * bestemmiare ' and 
 'biasimare ;' and in Spanish, 'blasfemar' and 'lastimar.' 
 
 2 Somewhat different from this, but itself also curious, is the 
 
24 The English Vocabulary. lect. 
 
 of these, named always the Latin form before the 
 French ; hut the reverse has been no doubt in every 
 instance the order in which the words were adopted 
 by us ; we had ' pursue ' before ' persecute,' ' spice ' 
 before ' species ; ' ' royalty ' before ' regality,' and so 
 with the others.^ 
 
 The explanation of this more thorough change 
 
 passing of an Old English word in two different forms, perhaps 
 from two different dialects, into our modern language, where it 
 is current in both; thus 'ant' and 'emmet,' 'hake' and 
 ' batch ; ' ' beacon ' and ' beckon ; ' ' beech ' and ' book ; ' ' bay,' 
 ' bough ' and ' bow ; ' ' deal ' and ' dole ; ' ' desk ' and ' dish ; ' 
 ' drag ' and ' draw ; ' ' drench ' and ' drink ; ' ' down ' and 
 ' dune ; ' ' dyke ' and ' ditch ; ' ' gnaw ' and ' nag ; ' * hale ' and 
 ' whole ; ' ' hat ' and ' hood ; ' ' hay ' and ' hedge ; ' ' heathen ' 
 and ' hoyden ; ' ' nook ' and ' notch ; ' ' poke ' and ' pouch ; ' 
 ' school,' ' scull,' and ' shoal ; ' ' screech ' and ' shriek ; ' ' scale,' 
 'shell,' and 'shale;' 'screed' and 'shred;' 'skiff' and 'ship;' 
 ' shirt ' and ' skirt ; ' ' spray ' and ' sprig ; ' ' tow ' and ' tug ; ' 
 ' weald ' and ' wood ; ' ' waggon ' and ' wain ; ' * whit ' and 
 ' wight.' Often we possess the same word, first in its more 
 proper Teutonic shape, and secondly, as the Normans, having 
 found it in France and made it their own, brought it with them 
 here. Thus ' wise ' and ' guise ; ' 'wed,' ' wage, ' and ' gage ; ' 
 ' wile ' and ' guile ; ' ' warden ' and ' guardian ; ' ' warranty ' 
 and ' guarantee. ' 
 
 * We have double adoptions from the Greek ; one direct, 
 one modified in passing through some other language ; thus, 
 'adamant' and 'diamond;' 'monastery' and 'minster;' 'para- 
 lysis ' and ' palsy ; ' ' scandal ' and ' slander ; ' ' theriac ' and 
 'treacle ;' 'asphodel' and 'daffodil,' or 'affodil,' as it used to 
 be (see the Promptoriuvi) ; ' presbyter ' and ' priest ; ' ' dactyl ' 
 and 'date,' the fruit deriving its name from its likeness to a 
 ' dactyl ' or finger ; and in Bacon still known by this name ; 
 ' cathedral' and ' chair.' ' Cypher ' and ' zero,' I may add, are 
 different adoptions of one and the same Arabic word. 
 
I. Naturalization of Words. 2 5 
 
 which the earher form has undergone, is not far to 
 seek. Words introduced into a language at a period 
 when as yet writing is rare, and books are few or none, 
 when therefore orthography is unfixed, or being purely 
 phonetic, cannot properly be said to exist at all, have 
 for a long time no other life save that which they live 
 upon the lips of men. The checks therefore to 
 alterations in the form of a word which a written, and 
 still more which a printed, literature imposes are 
 wanting, and thus we find words out of number alto- 
 gether reshaped and remoulded by the people who 
 have adopted them, so entirely assimilated to their 
 language in form and termination, as in the end to be 
 almost or quite indistinguishable from natives. On 
 the other hand, a most effectual check to this process, 
 a process sometimes barbarizing and defacing, even 
 while it is the only one which will make the newly 
 brought in entirely homogeneous with the old and 
 already existing, is imposed by the existence of a 
 much written language and a full-formed literature. 
 The foreign word, being once adopted into these, can 
 no longer undergo a thorough transformation. Gene- 
 rally the utmost which use and familiarity can do with 
 it now, is to cause the gradual dropping of the foreign 
 termination : not that this is unimportant ; it often 
 goes far to make a home for a word, and to hinder it 
 from wearing any longer the appearance of a stranger 
 and intruder.^ 
 
 ^ The French language in like manner ' teems with Latin 
 words which under various disguises obtained repeated admit- 
 tance into its dictionary,' with a double adoption, one popular 
 and reaching back to the earliest times of the language, the 
 other belonging to a later and more literary period, ' demotic ' 
 
26 The English Vocabulary. lect. 
 
 But to return from this digression. I said just now 
 that you would learn much from making an inventory 
 
 and ' scholastic ' they have been severally called ; on which sub- 
 ject see Genin, Recreations Pkilologiques, vol. i. pp. 162-166 ; 
 Littre, Hist, de la Langue Fj'ancaise, vol. i. pp. 241 -244 ; 
 Fuchs, Die Rotnan. Sprachen, p. 125 ; Mahn, Etymol. Fo7-- 
 sckung. pp. 19, 46, and passim ; Pellissier, La Langue Fran- 
 caise, pp. 205, 232. Thus from ' separare ' is derived ' sevrer,' 
 to separate the child from its mother's breast, to wean, but also 
 
 * separer,' without this restricted sense ; from 'pastor,' 'patre,' 
 a shepherd in the literal, and ' pasteur ' the same in a tropical, 
 sense ; from 'catena,' 'chaine' and ' cadene ;' from ' fragilis,' 
 ' frele ' and ' fragile ; ' from ' pensare,' ' peser ' and ' penser ; ' 
 from 'gehenna,' 'gene' and ' gehenne ; ' from 'captivus,' 
 
 . ' caitif,' 'chetif,' and 'captif;' from 'nativus,' 'naif and 
 'natif;' from 'immutabilis,' 'immutable' and ' immuable ; ' 
 from ' designare,' ' dessiner ' and 'designer;' from 'decimare,' 
 ' dimer ' and ' decimer ;' from ' ccnsumere,' 'consomm.er' and 
 ' consumer ; ' from ' simulare,' ' sembler ' and ' simuler ; ' from 
 ' sollicitare,' ' soucier ' and ' solliciter ; ' from ' imprimere,' 
 'empreindre' and 'imprimer;' from 'adamas,' 'aimant' (lode- 
 stone) and ' adamant ; ' from the low Latin ' disjejunare,' 
 'diner' and ' dejevmer ; ' from ' acceptare,' 'acheter' and 
 
 • accepter ; ' from ' homo,' ' on ' and ' homme ; ' from ' paganus,' 
 ' payen ' and ' paysan ; ' from ' obedientia,' ' obeissance ' and 
 'obedience;' from 'monasterium,' 'moutier' and 'monastere;' 
 from 'strictus,' 'etroit' and 'strict;' from 'scintilla,' *etin- 
 celle' and 'scintille;' from ' sacramentum,' 'serment' and 
 'sacrement;' from ' ministerium,' 'metier' and 'ministere; 
 from 'parabola,' 'parole' and ' parabole ; ' from ' natalis, 
 'Noel' and 'natal;' from 'rigidus,' ' raide ' and 'rigide; 
 from ' sapidus,' ' sade ' and 'sapide;' from ' peregrinus, 
 'pelerin' and 'peregrin;' from ' factio,' 'fa9on' and 'faction, 
 and it has now adopted ' factito ' in a third shape, that is, in our 
 English 'fashion;' from 'pietas,' 'pitie' and 'piete;' from 
 'paradisus,' 'parvis'and ' paradis ; ' from ' capitulum,' ' cha- 
 pitre ' and ' capitule,' a botanical term ; from 'causa,' 'chose' 
 
Latin and A nglo- Saxon. 2 7 
 
 of the words of one descent and those of another 
 occurring in any passage which you analyse ; and 
 noting the proportion which they bear to one another. 
 Thus analyse the diction of the Lord's Prayer. Of 
 the seventy words whereof it consists only the follow- 
 ing six claim the rights of Latin citizenship — the noun 
 'trespasses,' the verb 'trespass,' 'temptation,' 'deliver,' 
 ' power,' ' glory.' Nor would it be very difficult to 
 substitute for any one of these a Saxon word. Thus 
 for ' trespasses ' might be substituted ' sins ; ' for ' tres- 
 pass ' ' sin ; ' for ' deliver ' ' free ; ' for ' power ' ' might ; ' 
 for ' glory ' ' brightness ; ' which would only leave 
 ' temptation,' about which there could be the slightest 
 difficulty ; and ' trials,' though now employed in a 
 somewhat different sense, would exactly correspond 
 to it. This is but a small percentage, six words in 
 seventy, or less than ten in the hundred ; and we 
 often light upon a still smaller proportion. Thus take 
 the first three verses of the 23rd Psalm : — 'The Lord 
 is my Shepherd ; therefore can I lack nothing ; He 
 shall feed me in a green pasture, and lead me forth 
 beside the waters of comfort; He shall co7ivert my 
 soul, and bring me forth in the paths of righteousness 
 
 and * cause ; ' from ' movere,' ' muer ' and ' mouvoir ; ' from 
 'ponere,' 'poser' and ' pondre ; ' from 'medulla,' 'moelle, 
 and ' medullaix'e ; ' from 'vigilia,' ' veille ' and 'vigile;' from 
 'scandalum,' ' esclandre ' and 'scandale;' from 'ligare,' 'lier' 
 and ' liguer ; ' while ' attacher ' and ' attaquer ' only differ in 
 pronunciation. So, too, in Italian we have 'manco,' maimed, 
 and 'monco,' maimed of a hand; 'rifutare,' 'to refute,' and 
 'rifiutare,' to refuse; 'dama' and 'donna,' both forms of 
 'domina ;' and in German ' probst ' and 'profoss,' 'pacht' and 
 'pakt.' 
 
28 The English Vocabulary. Lect. 
 
 for his Name's sake.' Here are forty-five words, and 
 only the three in itaHcs are Latin ; for each of which it 
 would be easy to substitute one of home growth ; little 
 more, that is, than the proportion of seven in the 
 hundred ; while in five verses out of Genesis, con- 
 taining one hundred and thirty words, there are only 
 five not Saxon, — less, that is, than four in the hun- 
 dred ; and, more notably still, the first four verses of 
 St. John's Gospel, in all fifty-four words, have no single 
 word that is not Saxon.' 
 
 Shall we therefore conclude that these are the 
 proportions in which the Old English and Latin 
 elements of the language stand to one another ? If 
 they are so, then my former proposal to express their 
 relations by sixty and thirty was greatly at fault ; and 
 seventy to twenty, or even eighty to ten, would fall 
 short of adequately representing the real predomi- 
 nance of the Saxon over the Latin element in the lan- 
 guage. But it is not so ; the Old English words by 
 no means outnumber the Latin in the degree which 
 the analysis of those passages would seem to imply. 
 It is not that there are so many more Anglo-Saxon 
 words, but that the words which there are, being 
 w^ords of more primary necessity, do therefore so much 
 more frequently recur. The proportions which the 
 analysis of the dictionary, that is, of the language at 
 rest, would furnish, are very different from those in- 
 stanced just now, and which the analysis of sentences, 
 or of the language in motion, gives. Thus if we ana- 
 lyse by aid of a Concordajice the total vocabulary of 
 
 ' On the numerical proportions between Anglo-Saxon and 
 Romance words in our present English, and the character and 
 value of the several contributions, see Pott, Etym. Forsch. 
 vol. ii. part i. pp. 96-10I. • 
 
I. Proportion of Latiii a7id Saxon. 29 
 
 the English Bible, not more than sixty per cent of 
 the words are native ; but in the actual translation the 
 native words are from ninety per cent in some pas- 
 sages to ninety-six in others.^ The proportion in 
 Shakespeare's vocabulary of native words to foreign is 
 much the same as in the English Bible, that is, about 
 sixty to forty in every hundred ; while an analysis of 
 various plays gives a proportion of from eighty-eight 
 to ninety-one per cent of native among those in actual 
 employment. Milton gives results more remarkable 
 still. We gather from a Concoi'dance that only thirty- 
 three per cent of the words employed by him in his 
 poetical works are of Anglo-Saxon origin ; while an 
 analysis of a book of Paradise Lost yields eighty per 
 cent of such, and of L^ Allegro ninety. Indeed a vast 
 multitude of his Latin words are employed by him 
 only on a single occasion. 
 
 The notice of this fact will lead us to some impor- 
 tant conclusions as to the character of the words 
 which the Saxon and the Latin severally furnish ; and 
 principally to this : — that while English is thus com- 
 
 ' See Marsh, Manual of the English Language, Engl, ed., 
 p. 88, sqq. It is curious to note how very small a part of the 
 language writers who wield the fullest command over its resources, 
 and who, from the breadth and variety of the subjects which they 
 treat, would be likely to claim its help in the most various 
 directions, call into active employment. Set the words in the 
 English language at the lowest, and they can scarcely be set lower 
 than sixty thousand ; and it is certainly surprizing to learn that 
 in our English Bible somewhat less than a tenth of these, about 
 six thousand, are all that are actually employed, that Milton in 
 his poetry has not used more than eight thousand words, nor 
 Shakespeare, with all the immense range of subjects over which 
 he travels, more than fifteen thousand. 
 
30 The English Vocabulary. lect. 
 
 pact in the main of these two elements, their contri- 
 butions are of very different characters and kinds. 
 The Anglo-Saxon is not so much what I have just 
 called it, one element of the English language, as the 
 basis of it. All the joints, the whole articulation^ the 
 sinews and ligaments, the great body of articles, pro- 
 nouns, conjunctions, prepositions, numerals, auxiliary 
 verbs, all smaller words which serve to knit together 
 and bind the larger into sentences, these, not to speak 
 of the grammatical structure, are Saxon. The Latin 
 may contribute its tale of bricks, yea, of goodly stones, 
 hewn and polished, to the spiritual building ; but the 
 mortar, with all which binds the different parts of it 
 together, and constitutes them a house, is Saxon 
 throughout. Selden in his Table Talk uses another 
 comparison ; but to the same effect : ' If you look 
 upon the language spoken in the Saxon time, and the 
 language spoken now, you will find the difference to 
 be just as if a man had a cloak which he wore plain 
 in Queen Elizabeth's days, and since, here has put in 
 a piece of red, and there a piece of blue, and here a 
 piece of green, and there a piece of orange-tawny. 
 We borrow words from the French, Italian, Latin, as 
 every pedantic man pleases.' Whewell sets forth the 
 same fact under another image : ' Though our com- 
 parison might be bold, it would be just if we were to 
 say that the English language is a conglomerate of 
 Latin words bound together in a Saxon cement ; the 
 fragments of the Latin being pardy portions introduced 
 directly from the parent quarry, with all their sharp 
 edges, and partly pebbles of the same material, ob- 
 scured and shaped by long rolling in a Norman or 
 some other channel.' 
 
I. The Radical Constitutio7i Saxon. 3 1 
 
 This same law holds good in all composite lan- 
 guages ; which, composite as they are, yet are only 
 such in the matter of their vocabulary. There may 
 be a motley company of words, some coming from 
 one quarter, some from another ; but there is never 
 a medley of grammatical forms and inflections. One 
 or other language entirely predominates here, and 
 everything has to conform and subordinate itself to 
 the laws of this ruling and ascendant language. The 
 Anglo-Saxon is the ruling language in our present 
 English. This having thought good to drop its 
 genders, the French substantives which come among 
 us must in Hke manner leave theirs behind them ; so 
 too the verbs must renounce their own conjugations, 
 and adapt themselves to ours.^ 'The Latin and the 
 French deranged the vocabulary of our language, but 
 never its form or structure.' ^ A remarkable parallel 
 to this might be found in the language of Persia, since 
 the conquest of that country by the Arabs. The an- 
 cient Persian religion fell with the government, but 
 the language remained totally unaftected by the revo- 
 
 * W. Schlegel {Indische Bibliothek, vol. i. p. 284) : Coeunt 
 quidem paullatim in novum corpus peregrina vocabula, sed 
 grammatica linguarum, unde petitge sunt, ratio perit. 
 
 ^ Guest, Hist, of English Rhythms, vol. ii. p. 108. 'Lan- 
 guages,' says Max Mliller, 'though mixed in their dictionaries, 
 can never be mixed in their grammar. In the English dictionary 
 the student of the science of language can detect by his own 
 tests Celtic, Norman, Greek, and Latin ingredients ; but not a 
 single drop of foreign blood has entered into the organic system 
 of the English language. The grammar, the h\ooA and soul of 
 the language, is as pure and unmixed in English as spoken in 
 the British Isles, as it was when spoken on the shores of the 
 German Ocean by the Angles, Saxons, and Jutes of the Continent. 
 
32 The English Vocabulary. lect. 
 
 lution, and in its grammatical structure and organiza- 
 tion forfeited nothing of its Indo-germanic character. 
 Arabic vocables, the only exotic words found in 
 Persian, are found in numbers varying with the object, 
 and quality, style and taste of the writers, but pages 
 of pure idiomatic Persian may be written without em- 
 ploying a single word from the Arabic. 
 
 At the same time the secondary or superinduced 
 language, though powerless to force its forms on the 
 language which receives its words, may yet compel 
 that other to renounce a portion of its own forms, by 
 the impossibility which is practically found to exist 
 of making these fit the new-comers ; and thus it may 
 exert, although not a positive, yet a negative, influence 
 on the grammar of the other tongue. It has proved 
 so with us. ' When the English language was inundated 
 by a vast influx of French words, few, if any, French 
 forms were received into its grammar ; but the Saxon 
 forms soon dropped away, because they did not suit 
 the new roots ; and the genius of the language, from 
 having to deal with the newly imported words in a 
 rude state, was induced to neglect the inflections of 
 the native ones. This, for instance, led to the intro- 
 duction of the ' s ' as the universal termination of all 
 plurai nouns, which agreed with the usage of the 
 French language, and was not alien from that of the 
 Saxon, but was merely an extension of the termination 
 of the ancient masculine to other classes of nouns.' ^ 
 
 If you wish to make actual proof of the fact just 
 now asserted, namely, that the radical constitution of 
 
 ' J. Grimm, quoted in 21ie Philological Museu7)i^ vol. i. 
 p. 667. 
 
Ptire Anglo-Saxon. ^-i^ 
 
 the language is Saxon, try to compose a sentence, let 
 it be only of ten or a dozen words, and the subject 
 entirely of your own choice, employing therein none 
 but words of a Latni derivation. You will tind it im- 
 possible, or next to impossible, to do this. Which- 
 ever way you turn, some obstacle will meet you in 
 the face. There are large words in plenty, but no 
 binding power ; the mortar which should fill up the 
 interstices, and which is absolutely necessary for the 
 holding together of the building, is absent altogether. 
 On the other side, whole pages might be written, not 
 perhaps on higher or abstruser themes, but on fami- 
 liar matters of every-day life, in which every word 
 should be of Saxon descent ; and these, pages from 
 which, with the exercise of a little patience and in- 
 genuity, all appearance of awkwardness should be 
 excluded, so that none would know, unless otherwise 
 informed, that the writer had submitted himself to 
 this restraint and limitation, and was drawins: his 
 words exclusively from one section of the English 
 language. Sir Thomas Browne has given several 
 long paragraphs so constructed. Here is a little 
 fragment of one of them : ' The first and foremost 
 step to all good works is the dread and fear of the 
 Lord of heaven and earth, ^ which through the Holy 
 Ghost enlighteneth the blindness of our sinful hearts 
 to tread the ways of wisdom, and lead our feet into 
 the land of blessing.' ^ This is not stiffer than the 
 ordinary English of his time.^ 
 
 * Works, vol. iv. p. 202. 
 
 '^^ What Ampere says of Latin as constituting the base of the 
 French {Forniation de la Langne Francaise, p. 196), we may say 
 
 D 
 
;4 The English Vocabulary. Lect. 
 
 But because it is thus possible to write English, 
 foregoing altogether the use of the Latin portion of 
 the language, you must not therefore conclude this 
 latter portion to be of little value, or that we should 
 be as rich without it as with it. We should be very- 
 far indeed from so being. I urge this, because we 
 hear sometimes regrets expressed that we have not 
 kept our language more free from the admixture of 
 Latin, and suggestions made that we should even now 
 endeavour to restrain our employment of this within 
 the narrowest possible limits. I remember Lord 
 Brougham urging upon the students at Glasgow that 
 they should do their best to rid their diction of long- 
 
 of Anglo-Saxon as constituting the base of Englisli: II nes'agit 
 pas ici d'un nombre plus ou moins grand de mots fournis a 
 notre langue ; il s'agit de son fondement et de sa substance. 
 II y a en fran^ais, nous le verrons, des mots celtiques et 
 germaniques ; mais le fran^ais est une langue laiine. Les mots 
 celtiques y sont restes, les mots germaniques y sont venus ; les 
 mots latins n'y sont point restes, et n'y sont point venus ; ils 
 sont la langue elle-meme, ils la constituent. II ne peut done 
 etre question de rechercher quels sont les elements latins du 
 fran9ais. Ce que j'aurai a faire, ce sera d'indiquer ceux qui en 
 le sont pas. Koch, in some words prefixed to his Historic 
 Grammar of the English Language, has put all this in a lively 
 manner. Having spoken of the larger or smaller contingents to 
 the army of English words which the various languages have 
 furnished, he proceeds : Die Hauptarmee, besonders das Volk- 
 heer, ist deutsch, ein grosses franzosisches Hilfs-und Luxuscorps 
 hat sich angeschlossen, die andern Romanen sind nur durch 
 wenige Ueberlaufer vertreten, und sie haben ihre nationale 
 Eigenthlimlichkeit seltener bewahrt. Ein starkeres Corps stellt 
 das Lateinische ; es hat Truppen stossen lassen zum Angel- 
 sachsischen, zum Alt- und Mittelenglischen, und sogar hoch 
 zum Neuenglischen. 
 
I. Latin and Anglo-Saxon. 35 
 
 tailed words in 'osity' and 'ation.' Now, doubdess, 
 there was sufficient ground and warrant for the warn- 
 ing against such which he gave them. Writers of a 
 former age, Samuel Johnson in the last century, 
 Henry More and Sir Thomas Browne in the century 
 preceding, gave beyond all question undue prepon- 
 derance to the learned, or Latin, element in our lan- 
 guage ; and there have never wanted those who have 
 trod in their footsteps ; while yet it is certain that 
 very much of the homely strength and beauty of 
 English, of its most popular and happiest idioms, 
 would have perished from it, had they succeeded in 
 persuading the great body of English writers to write 
 as they had written. 
 
 But for all this we could almost as ill spare this 
 Latin portion of the lansjuage as the other. Philo- 
 sophy and science and the arts of an advanced civili- 
 zation find their utterance in the Latin words which 
 we have made our own, or, if not in them, then 
 in the Greek, which for present purposes may be 
 grouped with them. Granting too that, all other 
 things being equal, when a Latin and a Saxon word 
 offer themselves to our choice, we shall generally do 
 best to employ the Saxon, to speak of ' happiness ' 
 rather than ' felicity,' ' almighty ' rather than ' omnipo- 
 tent,' a ' forerunner ' rather than a ' precursor,' a ' fore- 
 father ' than a ' progenitor,' still these latter are as 
 truly denizens in the language as the former ; no alien 
 interlopers, but possessing the rights of citizenship as 
 fully as the most Saxon word of them all. One part 
 of the language is not to be unduly favoured at the 
 expense of the other ; the Saxon at the cost of the 
 Latin, as little as the Latin at the cost of the Saxon. 
 
36 The English Vocabulaiy. Lect. 
 
 ' Both,' as De Quincey, himself a foremost master of 
 English, has well said, ' are indispensable ; and speak- 
 ing generally, without stopping to distinguish as to 
 subject, both are equally indispensable. Pathos, in 
 situations which are homely, or at all connected with 
 domestic affections, naturally moves by Saxon words. 
 Lyrical emotion of ever)^ kind, which (to merit the 
 name of lyrical) must be in the state of flux and reflux, 
 or, generally, of agitation, also requires the Saxon 
 element of our language. iVnd why ? Because the 
 Saxon is the aboriginal element ; the basis and not 
 the superstructure : consequently it comprehends all 
 the ideas which are natural to the heart of man and 
 to the elementary situations of life. And although 
 the Latin often furnishes us with duplicates of these 
 ideas, yet the Saxon, or monosyllabic part, has the 
 advantage of precedency in our use and knowledge ; 
 for it is the language of the nursery whether for rich 
 or poor, in which great philological academy no 
 toleration is given to words in "osity" or"ation." 
 There is therefore a great advantage, as regards the 
 consecration to our feelings, settled by usage and 
 custom upon the Saxon strands in the mixed yam of 
 our native tongue. And universally, this may be 
 remarked — that wherever the passion of a poem is 
 of that sort which uses^ presumes^ or postulates the 
 ideas, without seeking to extend them, Saxon will be 
 the "cocoon" (to speak by the language applied to 
 silk-worms), which the poem spins for itself But, on 
 the other hand, where the motion of the feeling is by 
 and through the ideas, where (as in religious or medi- 
 tative poetr)^ — Young's for instance, or Cowper's), the 
 pathos creeps and ki. idles underneath the very tissues 
 
I- AutJiorized Version of Scripture. 37 
 
 of the thinking, there the Latin will predominate ; and 
 so much so that, whilst the flesh, the blood, and the 
 muscle will be often almost exclusively Latin, the 
 articulations only, or hinges of connection, will be 
 Anglo-Saxon.' On this same matter Sir Francis 
 Palgrave has expressed himself thus : ' Upon the 
 languages of Teutonic origin the Latin has exercised 
 great influence, but most energetically on our own. 
 The very early admixture of the Langue d' Oil, the 
 never interrupted employment of the French as the 
 language of education, and the nomenclature created 
 by the scientific and literaiy cultivation of advancing 
 and civilized society, have Romanized our speech ; 
 the warp may be Anglo-Saxon, but the woof is Roman 
 as well as the embroidery, and these foreign materials 
 have so entered into the texture, that, were they 
 plucked out, the web would be torn to rags, unravelled 
 and destroyed.' ^ 
 
 We shall nowhere find a happier example of the 
 preservation of the golden mean than in our Author- 
 ized Version of the Bible. Among the minor and 
 secondary blessings conferred by that Version on the 
 nations drawing their spiritual life from it, — a blessing 
 only small by comparison with the infinitely greater 
 blessings whereof it is the vehicle to them, — is the 
 happy wisdom, the instinctive tact, with which its 
 authors have kept clear in this matter from all exag- 
 geration. There has not been on their parts any 
 futile and mischievous attempt to ignore the full rights 
 of the Latin element of the language on the one side, 
 nor on the other any burdening of the Version with so 
 
 * History of Normandy and England, vol. i. p. 78. 
 
o 
 
 8 The English Vocabulary. lect. 
 
 many learned Latin terms as should cause it to forfeit 
 its homely character, and shut up large portions of it 
 from the understanding of plain and unlearned men. 
 One of the most eminent among those who in our 
 own times abandoned the communion of the English 
 Church for that of the Church of Rome has expressed 
 in deeply touching tones his sense of all which, in 
 renouncing our Translation, he felt himself to have 
 foregone and lost. These are his words : ' Who will 
 not say that the uncommon beauty and marvellous 
 English of the Protestant Bible is not one of the great 
 stongholds of heresy in this country ? It lives on the 
 ear, like a music that can never be forgotten, like the 
 sound of church bells, which the convert hardly knows 
 how he can forego. Its felicities often seem to be 
 almost things rather than mere words. It is part of 
 the national mind, and the anchor of national serious- 
 ness The memory of the dead passes into it. 
 
 The potent traditions of childhood are stereotyped in 
 its verses. The power of all the griefs and trials of a 
 man is hidden beneath its words. It is the repre- 
 sentative of his best moments, and all that there has 
 been about him of soft and gentle and pure and peni- 
 tent and good speaks to him for ever out of his 
 
 Enghsh Bible It is his sacred thing, which 
 
 doubt has never dimmed, and controversy never soiled. 
 In the length and breadth of the land there is not a 
 Protestant with one spark of religiousness about him, 
 whose spiritual biography is not in his Saxon Bible.' ^ 
 Certainly one has only to compare this Version of 
 
 ' In some earlier editions of this book I used language 
 which seemed to ascribe these words to Dr. Newman, whose I 
 
I. Rhemish Version of Scriphtre. 
 
 ours with the Rhemish, at once to understand why he 
 should have thus given the palm and preference to 
 ours. I urge not here the fact that one translation is 
 from the original Greek, the other from the Latin 
 Vulgate, and thus the translation of a translation, 
 often reproducing the mistakes of that translation ; 
 but, putting all such higher advantages aside, only the 
 superiority of the diction in which the meaning, be it 
 correct or incorrect, is conveyed to English readers. 
 Thus I open the Rhemish Version at Galatians v. 19, 
 where the long list of the ' works of the flesh,' and of 
 the ' fruit of the Spirit,' is given. But what could a 
 mere English reader make of terms such as these — 
 ' impudicity,' ' ebrieties,' ' comessations,' ' longani- 
 mity,' all which occur in that passage ; while our 
 Version for ' ebrieties ' has ' drunkenness,' for ' comes- 
 sations ' has ' revellins^s,' for 'longanimity' 'long- 
 suffering ? ' Or set over against one another such 
 phrases as these, — in the Rhemish, ' the exemplars of 
 the celestials ' (Heb. ix. 23), but in ours, ' the patterns 
 of things in the heavens.' Or suppose if, instead of 
 what we read at Heb. xiii. 16, ' To do good and to 
 communicate forget not ; for with such sacrifices God 
 is well pleased,' we read as in the Rhemish, ' Benefi- 
 cence and communication do not forget ; for with 
 such hosts God is promerited ' ! — Who does not feel 
 that if our Version had been composed in such Latin- 
 EngHsh as this, had been fulfilled with words like these 
 — ' odible,' 'suasible,' ' exinanite,' ' contristate,' 'pos- 
 tulations,' ' coinquinations,' ' agnition,' ' zealatour,' 
 
 supposed they were. They indeed occur in an Essay by the late 
 Dr. Faber on ' The Characteristics of the Lives of the Saints, ' 
 prefixed to a Life of St. Francis of Assist, p. 116. 
 
40 The English Vocabulary. lect. 
 
 ' donary/ — which all, with many more of the same 
 mint, are fomid in the Rhemish Version, — our loss 
 would have been great and enduring, such as would 
 have been felt through the whole religious life of our 
 people, in the very depths of the national mind ? ^ 
 
 There was indeed something deeper than love of 
 sound and genuine English at work in our Translators, 
 whether they were conscious of it or not, which hin- 
 dered them from presenting the Scriptures to their 
 fellow-countrymen dressed out in such a semi-Latin 
 garb as this. The Reformation, which they were in 
 this translation so effectually setting forward, was just 
 a throwing off, on the part of the Teutonic nations, of 
 that everlasting pupilage in which Rome would fain 
 have held them ; an assertion at length that they were 
 come to full age, and that not through her, but directly 
 through Christ, they would address themselves unto 
 God. The use of Latin as the language of worship, 
 as the language in which alone the Scriptures might 
 be read, had been the great badge of servitude, even 
 as the Latin habits of thought and feeling which it 
 promoted had been most important helps to. the con- 
 tinuance of this servitude, through long ages. It lay 
 deep then in the essential conditions of the conflict 
 which they were maintaining, that the Reformers should 
 develope the Saxon, or essentially national, element 
 in the language ; while it was just as natural that the 
 Roman Catholic translators, if they must render the 
 Scriptures into English at ail, should yet render them 
 into such English as should bear the nearest possible 
 
 • There is more on this matter in my book, On the Author- 
 ized Version of the NrcV Testa)nent, pp. 33-35 ; and in Westcott, 
 History of the English Bible, 1868, p. 333. 
 
I. Comparison of Versions. 4 1 
 
 resemblance to that Latin Vulgate, which Rome, with 
 a wisdom that in such matters has never failed her, 
 would gladly have seen as the only version of the 
 Book in the hands of the faithful.^ 
 
 Let me again, however, recur to the fact that what 
 our Reformers did in this matter, they did without ex- 
 aggeration ; even as they have shown the samiC wise 
 moderation in matters higher than this. They gave 
 to the Latin element of the language its rights, though 
 they would not suffer it to encroach upon and usurp 
 those of the other. Tt would be difhcult not to believe, 
 even if many outward signs did not suggest the same, 
 that there is an important part in the future for that 
 one language of Europe to play, which thus serves as 
 connecting link between the North and the South, 
 between the languages spoken by the Teutonic nations 
 of the North and by the Romance nations of the 
 South ; which holds on to and partakes of both ; 
 
 ^ Where the word itself which the Rhemish translators em- 
 ploy is a perfectly good one, it is yet instnictive to observe how 
 often they draw on the Latin portion of the language, where we 
 have drawn on the Saxon, — thus 'corporal' where we have 
 'bodily' (i Tim. iv. 8), ' irreprehensible ' where w^e have 
 'blameless' (i Tim. iii. 2), 'coadjutor' where we have 'fellow- 
 worker' (Col. iv. 11), 'prescience' where we have 'foreknow- 
 ledge' (Acts ii. 23), 'dominator' where we have 'Lord' (Jude 
 4), 'cogitation' where we have 'thought' (Luke ix. 46), 'fra- 
 ternity' where we have 'brotherhood' (i Pet. ii. 17), 'senior' 
 where we have 'elder' (Rev. vii. 13), 'annunciation' where we 
 have 'message' (i John i. 5), ' supererogate ' where we have 
 'spend more' (Luke x. 35), 'exprobrate' where we have 'up- 
 braid' (Mark xvi. 14), 'prohibit' where we have 'forbid' (2 
 Pet. ii. 16), ' incontinent ' where we have 'straightway' (Mark 
 ix. 24), 'stipends' where we have ' wages' (Luke iii. 14). 
 
42 TJie English Vocabulary, Lect. 
 
 which is as a middle term between them. ^ There are 
 who venture to hope that the Enghsh Church, having 
 in Hke manner two aspects, looking on the one side 
 toward Rome, being herself truly Catholic, looking on 
 the other toward the Protestant communions, being 
 herself also protesting and reformed, may have re- 
 served for her in the providence of God an important 
 share in that reconciling of a divided Christendom, 
 whereof we are bound not to despair. And if this 
 ever should be so, if, notwithstanding our sins and 
 unworthiness, so blessed an office should be in store 
 for her, it will be no small assistance to this, that the 
 language in which her mediation will be effected, is 
 one wherein both parties may claim their own, in 
 which neither will feel that it is receiving the adjudi- 
 cation of a stranger, of one who must be an alien from 
 its deeper thoughts and habits, because an alien from 
 its words, but a language in which both must recog- 
 nize very much of that which is deepest and most 
 precious of their own.^ 
 
 ^ See a paper, On the Probable Future Position of the English 
 IxLuguage, by T. Watts, Esq. , in the Proceedings of the Philo- 
 logical Society, vol. iv. p. 207 ; and compare the concluding 
 words in Guest's Hist, of English Rhythms^ vol. ii. p. 429. 
 
 - Fowler {English Grammar, p. 135) : 'The English is a 
 medium language, and thus adapted to diffusion. In the Gothic 
 family it stands midway between the Teutonic and the Scandi- 
 navian branches, touching both, and to some extent reaching 
 into both. A German or a Dane finds much in the English 
 which exists in his own language. It unites by ceilain bonds of 
 consanguinity, as no other language does, the Romanic with the 
 Gothic languages. An Italian or a Frenchman finds a large 
 class of words in the English which exist in his own language, 
 though the basis of the English is Gothic' 
 
Grifiim on English. 4^ 
 
 Nor is this prerogative which I have just claimed 
 for our EngHsh the mere dream and fancy of patriotic 
 vanity. The scholar most profoundly acquainted with 
 the great group of the Teutonic languages in Europe, 
 a devoted lover, if ever there was such, of his native 
 German, I mean Jacob Grimm, has expressed himself 
 very nearly to the same effect, and given the palm 
 over all to our English in words which you will not 
 grudge to hear quoted, and with which I shall bring 
 this lecture to a close. After ascribing to our language 
 ' a veritable power of expression, such as perhaps 
 never stood at the command of any other language of 
 men,' he goes on to say, ' Its highly spiritual genius, 
 and wonderfully happy development and condition, 
 have been the result of a surprisingly intimate union 
 of the two noblest languages in modern Europe, the 
 Teutonic and the Romance. — It is well known in 
 what relation these two stand to one another in the 
 Enghsh tongue ; the former supplying in far larger 
 proportion the material groundwork, the latter the 
 spiritual conceptions. In truth the English language, 
 which by no mere accident has produced and upborne 
 the greatest and most predominant poet of modern 
 times, as distinguished from the ancient classical 
 poetry (I can, of course, only mean Shakespeare), may 
 with all right be called a world-language ; and, like the 
 English people, appears destined hereafter to prevail 
 with a sway more extensive even than its present over 
 all the portions of the globe. ^ For in wealth, good 
 
 * A little more than two centuries ago a poet, himself abun- 
 dantly deserving the title of 'well-languaged,' which a contem- 
 porary or near successor gave him, ventured in some remarkable 
 lines timidly to anticipate this. Speaking of his native English, 
 
44 ^>^^ English Vocabulary, Lect. 
 
 sense, and closeness of structure no other of the lan- 
 guages at this day spoken deserves to be compared 
 with it — not even our German, which is torn, even as 
 we are torn, and must first rid itself of many defects, 
 before it can enter boldly into the lists, as a com- 
 petitor with the English.' ^ 
 
 which he himself wrote with such vigour and purity, though 
 deficient in the passion and fiery impulses which go to the 
 making of a first-rate poet, Daniel exclaims : 
 
 '■ And who, in time, knows whither we may vent 
 The treasure of our tongue ? to what strange shores 
 This gain of our best glory shall be sent, 
 To enrich unknowing nations with our stores ? 
 What worlds in the yet unformed Occident 
 May come refined with the accents that are ours ? 
 Or who can tell for what great work in hand 
 The greatness of our style is now ordained ? 
 What powers it shall bring in, what spirits command, 
 What thoughts let out, what humours keep restrained, 
 What mischief it may powerfully withstand, 
 And what fair ends may thereby be attained ? ' 
 
 1 Ueber den Ursprting der Sprache, Berlin, 1832, p. ^o. 
 Compare Philarete Chasles, Etudes snr T Allemagne, pp. 12-33. 
 
II. English as it might have been, 45 
 
 LECTURE IL 
 
 ENGLISH AS IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN. 
 
 E have seen that many who have best right to 
 speak are strong to maintain that Enghsh has 
 gained far more than it has lost by that violent interrup- 
 tion of its orderly development which the Norman 
 Conquest brought with it, that it has been permanently 
 enriched by that immense irruption and settlement of 
 foreign words within its borders, which followed, though 
 not immediately, on that catastrophe. But there here 
 suggests itself to us an interesting and not uninstructive 
 subject of speculation ; what, namely, this English 
 language would actually now be, if there had been no 
 Battle of Hastings ; or a Battle of Hastings which 
 WiUiam had lost and Harold won. When I invite you 
 to consider this, you will understand me to exclude 
 any similar catastrophe, which should in the same way 
 have issued in the setting up of an intrusive dynasty, 
 supported by the arms of a foreign soldiery, and 
 speaking a Romanic as distinguished from a Teutonic 
 language, on the throne of England. I lay a stress 
 upon this last point— a people speaking a Romanic 
 language ; inasmuch as the effects upon the language 
 spoken in England would have been quite different, 
 would have fallen far short of those which actually 
 found place, if the great Canute had succeeded in 
 founding a Danish, or Harold Hardrada a Norw^egian, 
 
4-6 English as it might have been. lect. 
 
 dynasty in England — Danish and Norwegian both 
 being dialects of the same Gothic language which was 
 already spoken here. Some differences in the language 
 now spoken by Englishmen, such issues, — and one 
 and the other were at different times well within the 
 range of possibility, — would have entailed ; but dif- 
 ferences inconsiderable by the side of those which 
 have followed the coming in of a conquering and 
 ruling race speaking one of the tongues directly 
 formed upon the Latin. 
 
 This which I suggest is only one branch of a far 
 larger speculation. It would be no uninteresting task 
 if one thoroughly versed in the whole constitutional 
 lore of England, acquainted as a Palgrave was with 
 Anglo-Saxon England, able to look into the seeds of 
 things and to discern which of these contained the 
 germs of future development, which would grow and 
 which would not, should interpret to us by the spirit 
 of historic divination, what, if there had been no suc- 
 cessful Norman invasion, would be now the social 
 and political institutions of England, what the relations 
 of the different ranks of society to one another, what 
 the division and tenure of land, what amount of liberty 
 at home, of greatness abroad, England would at this 
 day have achieved. It is only on one branch of this 
 subject that I propose to enter at all. 
 
 It may indeed appear to some that even in this I 
 am putting before them problems which are in their 
 very nature impossible to solve, which it is therefore 
 unprofitable to entertain ; since dealing, as here we 
 must, with what might have been, not with what 
 actually has been or is, all must be mere guesswork for 
 us ; and, however ingenious our guesses, we can 
 
II. The Possible Ftihcre. 47 
 
 never test them by the touchstone of actual fact, and 
 so estimate their real worth. Such an objection would 
 rest on a mistake, though a very natural one. I am 
 persuaded we can know to a very large extent how, 
 under such conditions as I have supposed, it would 
 have fared with our tongue, what the English would 
 be like which, in such a case, the dwellers in this 
 island would be speaking at this day. The laws 
 which preside over the developm.ent of language are 
 so fixed and immutable, and capricious as they may 
 seem, there is really so little caprice in them, that if 
 we can at all trace the course which other kindred 
 dialects have followed under such conditions as 
 English would then have been submitted to, we may 
 thus arrive at very confident conclusions as to the 
 road which English would have travelled. And there 
 are such languages ; more or less the whole group of 
 Teutonic languages are such. Studying any one of 
 these, and the most obvious of these to study would 
 be the German, we may learn very much of the forms 
 which English would now wear, if the tremendous 
 shock of one ever-memorable day had not changed 
 so much in this land, and made England and English 
 both so different from what otherwise they would have 
 been. 
 
 At the same time I would not have you set ioo high 
 the similarity which would have existed between the 
 English and other languages of the Teutonic family, 
 even if no such huge catastrophe as that had mixed so 
 many new elements in the one which are altogether 
 foreign to the other. There are ahvays forces at work 
 among tribes and people which have parted company, 
 one portion of them, as in this instance, going forth to 
 
48 English as it might have been, lect. 
 
 new seats, while the other tarried in the old ; or both 
 of them travelling onward, and separating more and 
 more from one another, as in the case of those whom 
 we know as Greeks and Italians, who, going forth 
 from those Illyrian highlands where they once dwelt 
 together, occupied each a peninsular of its ow^n ; or, 
 again, as between those who, like the Britons of 
 Wales and of Cornwall, have been violently thrust 
 asunder and separated from one another by the 
 intrusion of a hostile people, like a wedge, between 
 them ; there are, I say, forces widening slowly but 
 surely the breach between the languages spoken by the 
 one section of the divided people and by the other, 
 multiplying the points of diversity between the speech 
 of those to whom even dialectic diiferences may once 
 have been unknown. This, that they should travel 
 daily further from one another, comes to pass quite 
 independently of any such sudden and immense revo- 
 lution as that of which we have been just speaking. If 
 there had been no Norman Conquest, nor any event 
 similar to it, it is yet quite certain that English would 
 be now a very different language from any at the 
 present day spoken in Germany or in Holland. Dif- 
 ferent of course it would be from that purely conven- 
 tional language, now recognized in Germany as the 
 only language of literature ; but very difterent too 
 from any dialect of that Low German, still popularly 
 spoken on the Frisian coast and lower banks of the 
 Elbe, to which no doubt it would have borne a far 
 closer resemblance. It was indeed already very dif- 
 ferent when that catastrophe arrived. The six hun- 
 dred years which, on the briefest reckoning, had 
 elapsed since the Saxon immigration to these shores 
 
II. How Languages diverge. 49 
 
 — that immigration having probably begun very much 
 earher — had in this matter, as in others, left their 
 mark. 
 
 I will very briefly enumerate some of the dis- 
 similating forces, moral and material, by the action 
 of which those who, so long as they dwelt together, 
 possessed the same language, little by little become 
 barbarians to one another. 
 
 One branch of the speakers of a language engrafts 
 on the old stock numerous words which the other 
 does not ; and this from various causes. It does so 
 by intercourse with new races, into contact and con- 
 nection with which it, but not the other branch of the 
 divided family, has been brought. Thus in quite recent 
 times, South African English, spoken in the presence 
 of a large Dutch population at the Cape, has acquired 
 such words as ' to treck,' ' to inspan,' ' to outspan,' 
 Maager,' 'kloof,' 'spoor,' 'springbok,' 'steinbok,' 'gems- 
 bok,' ^ wildbeest,' ' roer ' (the German 'rohr'), 'veld,' 
 our English ' field,' ' boor,' in the sense of farmer, being 
 one of which the language at home knows nothing. So 
 too the great English colony in India has acquired 
 ' ayah,' ' bungalow,' ' coolie,' ' dacoit,' ' dhooly,' ' dur- 
 bar,' 'howdah,' 'loot,' 'maharajah,' 'mahout,' 'nabob,' 
 'nautch,' 'nullah,' 'pariah,' 'pundit,' 'punkah,' 'rajah,' 
 * ranee,' * rupee,' ' ryot,' ' suttee,' ' thug,' ' tulwar,' 
 ^ zemindar,' ' zenana,' with many more. It is true 
 that we too at home have adopted some of these, 
 and understand them all. But suppose there were 
 little or no communication between us at home and 
 our colony in India, no passing from the one to the 
 other, no literature common to both, here are the 
 beginnings of what would grow in lapse of years to an 
 
 E 
 
50 English as it vtight have been. Lect. 
 
 important element of diversity between the English of 
 England and of India. Or take another example. 
 The English-speaking race in America has encountered 
 races which we do not encounter here, has been brought 
 into relation with aspects of nature which are quite 
 foreign to Englishmen. For most of these they have 
 adopted the words which they had found ready made 
 to their hands by those who occupied the land before 
 them, or still occupy it side by side with themselves ; 
 they have borrowed, for example, 'boss' from the 
 Dutch of New York ; ' pampas ' and ' savannah ' 
 from the Indian ; ' bayou,' ' cache,' ' crevasse,' ' chute,' 
 ' levee,' ' portage,' from the French of Louisiana 
 or of Canada; 'adobe,' 'canyon' (canon), 'cha- 
 parral,' ' corral,' ' hacienda,' ' lariat,' ' lasso,' ' mus- 
 tang,' ' placer,' ' rancho ' or ' ranche,' ' sierra,' ' tortilla,' 
 the slang verb ' to vamose ' (the Spanish ' vamos,' let 
 us go), from the Spaniards of Mexico and California. 
 In like manner 'backwoodsman," lumberer," squatter,' 
 ' pine-barren,' are words born of a condition of things 
 whereof we here know nothing. And this which has 
 thus happened elsewhere, happened also here. The 
 Britons — not to enter into the question whether they 
 added much or little — must have added something, 
 and in the designation of natural objects, in ' aber ' 
 and 'pen' and ' straith,' certainly added much^ to the 
 vocabulary of the Saxon immigrants into this island, 
 of which those who remained in Old Saxony knew 
 nothing.^ Again, the Danish and Norwegian inroads 
 into England were inroads not of men only, but also 
 
 1 Isaac Taylor, Words and Places, 2nd edit. p. 193. 
 
 2 Earle, Philology of the English Tongue, p. 19. 
 
II. English and German. 5 1 
 
 of words. In all this an important element of dissi- 
 milation made itself felt. 
 
 Then too, where languages have diverged from one 
 another before any definite settlement has taken place 
 in the dictionary, out of the numerous synonyms for 
 one and the same object which the various dialects of 
 the common language afford, one people will perpe- 
 tuate one, and the other another, each of them after 
 a while losing sight altogether of that on which their 
 choice has not fallen. That mysterious sentence of 
 death which strikes words, we cannot tell why, others 
 not better, it may be worse, taking their room — for 
 it is not here always ' the survival of the fittest ' — 
 will frequently cause a word to perish from one 
 branch of what was once a common language, while 
 it lives on, and perhaps unfolds itself into a whole 
 family, in the other. Thus of the words which the 
 Angles and Saxons brought with them from beyond 
 the sea, some have lived on upon our English soil, 
 while they have perished in that Avhich might be 
 called, at least by comparison, their native soil. Innu- 
 merable others, with an opposite fate, have here died 
 out, which have continued to flourish there. As 
 a specimen of those which have found English air 
 more healthful than German we may instance ' bairn.' 
 This, once common to all the Teutonic languages, is 
 now extinct in the whole Germanic group, and has 
 been so for centuries, ' kind ' having taken its place ; 
 while it lives with us and in the languages of the 
 Scandinavian family. Others, on the contrary, after 
 an existence longer or shorter with us, have finally 
 disappeared here, while they still maintain a vigorous 
 life on the banks of the Elbe and the Eyder. A 
 
52 English as it might have been. lect. 
 
 vulture is not here any more a 'geir' (Holland), nor, 
 except in some local dialects, a rogue a ' skellum ' 
 (Urquhart), as little is he a ' schalk ; ' neither is an 
 uncle (a mother's brother) an ' eame," and this while 
 ' geir ' and ' schelm ' and ' schalk ' and ' oheim ' still 
 maintain a vigorous existence there. Each of these 
 words which has thus perished, and they may be 
 counted by hundreds and thousands, has been re- 
 placed by another, generally by one which is strange 
 to the sister language, such as either it never knew, 
 or of which it has long since lost all recollection. 
 There is thus at work a double element of estrange- 
 ment of the one from the other. In what has gone 
 a link between them has been broken ; in what has 
 come in its room an element of diversity has been 
 introduced. Sometimes, even where a word lives on 
 in both languages, it will have become provincial in 
 one, while it keeps a place in the classical diction of 
 the other. Thus ' klei ' is local and provincial in 
 Germany,^ v/hile 'clay' has everywhere free course 
 with us. 
 
 Or where a word has not actually perished in one 
 section of what was once a common language, it will 
 have been thrust out of general use in one, but not in 
 the other. Thus ' ross,' earlier ' hros,' is rare and 
 poetical in German, very much as ' steed ' with us, 
 having in every-day use given way to ' pferd ; ' while 
 ' horse ' has suffered no corresponding diminution in 
 the commonness of its use. ' Head ' in like manner 
 has fully maintained its place ; but not so ' haupt,' 
 which during the last two or three centuries has been 
 more and more giving way to ' kopf ' 
 
 ^ See Grimm, Worierbuch, s, v. 
 
II. English and German. 53 
 
 Again, words in one language and in the other will 
 in tract of time and under the necessities of an ad- 
 vancing civilization appropriate to themselves a more 
 exact domain of meaning than they had at the first, 
 }^et will not appropriate exactly the same ; or one will 
 enlarge its meaning and the other not ; or in some 
 other way one will drift away from moorings to which 
 the other remains true. Our ' timber ^ is the same 
 word as the German ' zimmer,' but it has not precisely 
 the same meaning ; nor ' rider ' as ' ritter,' nor ' hide ' 
 as ^ haut ; ' neither is ' beam ' exactly the same as 
 ' baum,' nor ' reek ' as ' ranch,' nor ' schnecke ' (in 
 German a snail) as ' snake ; ' nor ' dapper ' as ' tapfer,' 
 nor ' deer ' as ' thier,' nor ' toy ' as ' zeug,' nor ' acre ' 
 as 'acker,' nor 'whine' as 'weinen,' nor ' quell ' as 
 ' qualen,' nor ' selig ' as ' silly,' nor ' till ' as ' ziel,' 
 nor ' tide ' and ' tidy ' as ' zeit ' and ' zeitig.' ' Booby ' 
 suggests an intellectual deficiency, ' bube ' a moral 
 depravity. ' Lust ' in German has no subaudition 
 of sinful desire ; it has acquired such in English. 
 ' Knight ' and ' knecht ' have travelled in very dif- 
 ferent directions, so too have ' knave ' and 'knabe.' 
 Much of this divergence in measure is the work 
 of the last two or three hundred years, so that the 
 process of estrangement is still going forward. Thus 
 ' elders ' were parents in England not very long ago, 
 quite as much as ' eltern ' are parents to this day in 
 Germany.^ 'To grave' was once what 'graben' is 
 still. ' Taufer ' in German is solemn, ' dipper ' in 
 English is familiar. The English of England and 
 the English of America are already revealing dif- 
 
 'See my Select Glossary, 4th edit., s. v. Elders. 
 
54 English as it might have been. lect. 
 
 ferences of the same kind. ' Corn ' on the other 
 side of the Atlantic means always maize, ' grain ' 
 means always wheat ; while we know nothing here of 
 these restrictions of meaning. Nay, similar differ- 
 ences may be traced nearer home. A ' merchant ' in 
 Scotland is not what we know in England by this 
 name, but a shopkeeper ; ^ while in Ireland by a 
 ' tradesman ' is meant not a grocer, butcher, or some 
 other engaged in the distribution of commodities, but 
 an artisan, a bricklayer, glazier, carpenter, or the 
 like. In Northumberland wheat is ' sheared,' and 
 the reapers are 'shearers,' sheep are 'dipt.' Here is 
 another element of divergence between sister lan- 
 guages, evermore working to make more distinctly 
 two what once had been only one. 
 
 Nor is this all. ' Languages,' as Max Miiller has 
 said, ' so intimately related as Greek and Latin have 
 fixed on different expressions for son, daughter, bro- 
 ther, woman, man, sky, earth, moon, hand, mouth, 
 tree, bird.' It could scarcely have been otherwise ; 
 for the primary law of all naming is that the name 
 shall be drawn from that which strikes the namers as 
 the most prominent and characteristic feature of the 
 thing to be named. But it will generally happen that 
 complex objects have not one characteristic only, 
 but many ; and these very often with about equal 
 claims to be represented and embodied in the word, 
 while yet this in its narrow limits can rarely seize 
 or embody more than one. Thus when the different 
 seasons of the year claimed to have each a distinct 
 connotation of their own, it became necessary, among 
 
 * KcCtttjAos, not efiiropos. 
 
II. How Names a7^e given. 55 
 
 the rest, to designate the winter season. But from 
 how many points of view this might be regarded. 
 It might be looked at as the season when the days are 
 shortest ; and evidently this is one of the points about 
 it which strikes the most ; as such it is ' bruma '= 
 ' brevissima.' Or again, it might be regarded as the 
 time when the windows of heaven are opened and 
 the skies pour down their floods ; as such it is yj^i^iov^ 
 with which ' hiems ' is near of kin. Or once more, 
 it may impress men's minds as a time of bkistering 
 and roaring winds ; this is the point which in our 
 * winter ' we have seized. Or take another illustra- 
 tion. It is necessary to have a name for an army. 
 It may fitly derive this name from the fact that it is 
 an assemblage of armed and not of unarmed men. 
 It does this in our ' army' and in the French ' arme'e.' 
 Or it may be contemplated not merely as an as- 
 sembly of men with weapons in their hands, ' men 
 with musquets ; ' but of men trained and exercised to 
 the use of these weapons. This was what the Ro- 
 mans had in their eye when they called it ' exercitus.' 
 In the German ' heer ' there is, probably at least, the 
 notion of multitude ; for there are few or no such 
 immense gatherings of men to a single spot as armies 
 offer ; while in the Greek orparo'c the notion which 
 has suggested, and is embodied in, the word is that of 
 these huge multitudes camping out and stretching 
 themselves over vast regions of space. 
 
 Sometimes indeed there is one peculiarity which so 
 impresses itself upon eye or ear that it is impossible 
 to overlook it, or to avoid embodying it in the name 
 which the object bears. Take an example of this on 
 a small scale, but such as will serve quite as well as 
 
56 English as it might have been. Lect. 
 
 one upon a larger, our own '■ water- wagtail.' Most of 
 us will have watched the quick incessant motion of 
 the tail, which is so distinctive a feature of this grace- 
 ful little bird that it has in all or nearly all European 
 languages drawn its name from it ; as in our ' wagtail,' 
 in the Greek freifrovpa, in the Latin ' motacilla,' in the 
 Dutch ' quicksteert,' in the Italian ' codatremola,' in 
 the French ' hochequeue.' So in like manner the 
 cuckoo could hardly escape, and as far as I know, 
 has not any where escaped, obtaining a name from its 
 peculiar cry. 
 
 But cases such as these last are quite the excep- 
 tions. In most instances there will be various aspects 
 or features of a thing, which will compete for the 
 honour of finding utterance in its name ; and no one 
 of them with rights absolutely superior to those of 
 every other. One will gain the day with one people, 
 and one v>ith another ; and gaining will probably put 
 the others quite out of use, or reduce them to a merely 
 provincial existence. It is clear that there is here a 
 principle and process of differentiation at work, by 
 aid of which languages, though proceeding from the 
 same root, and not going out of themselves to seek 
 words elsewhere, may acquire a totally different no- 
 menclature for the commonest objects.' 
 
 But further, in the same way as the arm of one man 
 increases in bulk and no less in sinewy strength, being 
 put to vigorous use, while the same limb in another, 
 who had not called forth the energies which are latent 
 in it, shows no corresponding growth, even so it fares 
 
 ' See Max Miiller, On the Science of Language, I ser. p. 
 271 ; and compare on this Divergence of Dialects Marsh, Origin 
 and Histo7y of the English Language, p . 82 sqq. 
 
II. Words meet Needs. 57 
 
 with speech. It is indeed marvellous how quickly a 
 language will create, adopt, adapt words in any par- 
 ticular line of things to which those who speak that 
 language are specially addicted ; so that while it 
 may remain absolutely poor in every other depart- 
 ment of speech, it will prove nothing less than opulent 
 in this.^ It will follow that where races separate, and 
 one group or both seek new seats for themselves, the 
 industrial tendencies of the separated groups, as influ- 
 enced by the different physical aspects and capabilities 
 of the regions which they occupy, will bring about a 
 large development in each of words and phrases 
 wherein the other will have no share. Thus the occu- 
 pants of this island became by the very conditions of 
 their existence, and unless they were willing to be 
 
 ^ Pott {Etyinol. Forschiing. 2nd. edit. vol. ii. p. 134) supplies 
 some curious and instructive examples of this unfolding of a lan- 
 guage in a particular direction. Thus in the Zulu, a Caffre 
 dialect, where the chief or indeed entire wealth consists in 
 cattle, there are words out of number to express cows of different 
 ages, colours, qualities. Instead of helping themselves out as 
 we do by an adjective, as a white cow, a i^ed cow, a ban'cn cow, 
 they have a distinctive word for each of these. We do not 
 think or speak much about cocoa-nuts, and only seeing them 
 when they are full ripe, have no inducement to designate them 
 in other stages of their growth ; but in Lord North's Island, 
 where they are the main support of the inhabitants, they have 
 five words by which to name the fruit in its several stages from 
 the first shoot to perfect maturity. In the Hebrew there are 
 four different words to designate the locust in four successive 
 stages of its development (Ewald on Joelx. 4). In Lithuanian 
 there are five different names for as many kinds of stubble 
 (Grimm, Gesch. der Deiitschen Sprache, vol, i. p. 69). In the 
 Dorsetshire dialect there are distinct names for the four stomachs 
 of ruminant animals (Barnes, Glossary, p. 78). 
 
58 English as it might have been. Lect. 
 
 indeed, what the Latin poet called them, altogether 
 divided from the whole world, a seafaring people. It 
 has followed that the language has grown rich in terms 
 having to do with the sea and with the whole life of 
 the sea, far richer in these than are the dialects spoken 
 by the mediterranean people of Germany. They, on 
 the contrary, poor in this domain of words, are far 
 better furnished than we are with terms relating to 
 those mining operations which they pursued much 
 earlier, on a scale more extended, and with a greater 
 application of science and skill, than we have done. 
 
 There has been for centuries a vigorous activity of 
 political life in England which has needed, and need- 
 ing has fashioned for itself, a diction of its own. Ger- 
 many, on the contrary, is so poor in corresponding 
 terms, that when with the weak beginnings of consti- 
 tutional forms in our own day some of these terms 
 became necessary, it was obliged to borrow the word 
 ' bill ^ from us. It is true that in this it was no more 
 than reclaiming and recovering a word of its own, 
 which had been suffered to drop through and dis- 
 appear. 
 
 The same word will obtain a slightly different pro- 
 nunciation, or spelling, in the one language and the 
 other. Where there is no special philological training, 
 a very slight variation in the former will often effec- 
 tually conceal from the ear, as in the latter from the 
 eye, an absolute identity, and for all practical purposes 
 constitute them not one and the same word common 
 to both languages, but two and different. Most of us 
 in attempting to speak a foreign language, or to un- 
 derstand our own as spoken by a foreigner, have had 
 practical experience of the obstacles to understanding 
 
II. Arrest of Development, 59 
 
 or being understood, which a very slight departure 
 from the recognized standard of pronunciation will 
 interpose. And quite as effectual as difterences of 
 pronunciation for the ear, are differences of spelling 
 for the eye, in the way of making recognition hard, 
 or even impossible. It would be curious to know 
 how many Englishmen who have made fair advances 
 in German, as commonly taught, have recognized the 
 entire identity of ' deed ' and ' that,' of ' fowl ' and 
 ' vogel,' of ' vixen ' and ' fiichsinn,' of ' dough ' and 
 ^ teig,' of ' oath ' and ' eid,' of ' durch ' and ' through,' 
 of ' dreary ' and ' traurig,' of ' ivy ' and ' epheu,' of 
 
 * evening' and 'abend,' of 'death' and 'tod,' of 
 
 * quick ' and ' keck,' of ' deal ' and ' theil,' of ' enough ' 
 and ' genug ; ' or of other pairs of words out of number 
 which might be quoted. It is only too easy for those 
 who are using the very same words, to be, notwith- 
 standing, as barbarians to one another. When I hear 
 or read of Gaels making themselves intelligible in 
 Brittany, and stories of like kind, I decline to give to 
 them any credence whatever. The parties may have 
 understood one another, but not by aid of speech. 
 
 Again, what was the exception at the time of 
 separation will in one branch of the divided family have 
 grown into the rule, while perhaps in the other branch 
 it will have been disallowed altogether. So too idioms 
 and other peculiar usages will have obtained allowance 
 in one branch, which, not finding favour with the other, 
 will in it be esteemed as violations of the law of the 
 language, or at any rate declensions from its purity. 
 Or again idioms, which one people have overlived, 
 and have stored up in the unhonoured lumber-room 
 of the past, will still be in use and honour with the 
 
6o Enzlish as it mio^ht have been. lect. 
 
 other ; and thus it will sometimes come to pass that 
 what seems, and in fact is, the newer swarm, a colony 
 which has gone forth, will have older idioms than the 
 main body of a people which has remained behind, will 
 retain an archaic air and old-world fashion about the 
 words they use, their way of pronouncing, their order 
 and manner of combining them. Thus after the Con- 
 quest our insular French gradually diverged from the 
 French of the Continent. The Prioress in Chaucer's 
 Canterbury Tales could speak her French ' full faire 
 and fetishly ; ' but it was French, as the poet slyly 
 adds, 
 
 * After the scole of Stratford atte bow, 
 For French of Paris was to hire unknowe.' ^ 
 
 One of our old chroniclers, writing in the reign of 
 Elizabeth, informs us that by the English colonists 
 within the Pale in Ireland numerous words were 
 preserved in common use, — ' the dregs of the old 
 ancient Chaucer English,' as he contemptuously calls 
 them, — which were quite obsolete and forgotten in 
 England itself. Thus they called a spider an ' atter- 
 cop ' — a word, by the way, still in popular use in the 
 North; — a physician a 'leech,' as in poetry he is still 
 styled ; a dunghill a 'mixen,' — the word is common to 
 this day all over England ; a quadrangle or base-court a 
 ' bawn ; ' ^ they employed ' uncouth ' in the earlier sense 
 of ' unknown.' Nay more, their pronunciation and 
 general manner of speech were so diverse from that of 
 
 ' For more on this subject see Transactions of the Philolo- 
 gical Society, 1869, p. 355. 
 
 ■•^ The only two writers whom Richardson quotes as using 
 this word are Spenser and Swift, both writing in Ireland and 
 of Irish matters. 
 
II. German English. 6i 
 
 England, that Englishmen at their first coming over 
 often found it hard or impossible to comprehend. 
 Something of the same sort took place after the Re- 
 vocation of the Edict of Nantes, and the consequent 
 formation of colonies of French Protestant refugees 
 in various places, especially in Amsterdam and other 
 chief cities of Holland. There gradually grew up 
 among these what was called ' refugee French,' ' 
 which within a generation or two diverged in several 
 particulars from the classical language of France ; the 
 divergence being mainly occasioned by the fact that 
 this remained stationary, while the classical language 
 was in motion ; this retained words and idioms, 
 which the other had dismissed.^ So, too, there is, as 
 
 ' There is an excellent account of this ' refugee French ' in 
 Weiss' History of the Protestant Refugees of France. 
 
 ^ Lyell {On the Antiquity of Man, p. 466) confirms this 
 from another quarter : — ' A German colony in Pennsylvania was 
 cut off from frequent communication with Europe, for about a 
 quarter of a centuiy, during the wars of the French Revolution 
 between 1792 and 1815. So marked had been the effect even 
 of this brief and imperfect isolation, that when Prince Bernhard 
 of Saxe Weimar travelled among them a few years after the 
 peace, he found the peasants speaking as they had done in Ger- 
 many in the preceding century, and retaining a dialect which at 
 home had already become obsolete (see his Travels in North 
 America, p. 123). Even after the renewal of the German emi- 
 gration from Europe, when I travelled in 1841 among the same 
 people in the retired valleys of the Alleghanies, I found the 
 newspapers full of terms half English and half German, and many 
 an Anglo-Saxon word which had assumed a Teutonic dress, as 
 "fencen" to fence, instead of umzaunen, "flauer" for flour, 
 instead of mehl, and so on. What with the retention of terms 
 no longer in use in the mother country and the borrowing of 
 new ones from neighbouring states, there might have arisen in 
 
62 Eno^lisk as it viiorJit have been. lect. 
 
 I am assured, a marked difference between the Por- 
 tuguese spoken in the old country and in Brazil, as 
 there is in like manner no doubt between the Dutch 
 spoken in Holland and in South Africa. In such cases 
 ' there is a kind of arrest of development, the language 
 of the emigrants remaining for a long time at the stage 
 at which it was when emigration took place, and 
 altering more slowl}' than the mother tongue, and in a 
 different direction.' ^ 
 
 Again, the wear and tear of a language, the using 
 up of its forms and flexions, the phonetic decay which 
 is everywhere and in all languages incessantly going 
 forward, will proceed at a faster rate in one branch of 
 the divided language than in the other ; or, if not 
 faster, will not light upon exactly the same forms or 
 the same words ; or, if on the same, yet not exactly 
 upon the same letters. Thus, to take an examj^le of 
 the last, the Latin ' sum ' and the Greek dixi^ the 
 same word, as I need hardly tell you, are both greatly 
 worn away, — worn away in comparison with words of 
 rarer use, as sixpences, passing oftener from hand to 
 hand, lose their image and superscription much faster 
 and much more completely than crowns, — but they 
 are not worn away in precisely the same letters ; each 
 has kept a letter belonging to an earlier form of the 
 word, which the other has not kept, and lost a letter 
 
 Pennsylvania in five or six generations, but for the influx of new 
 comers from Germany, a mongrel speech equally unintelligible 
 to the Anglo-Saxon and to the inhabitants of the European 
 fatherland.' Compare Sir G. C. Lewis, On the Romance Lan- 
 guages, p. 49. 
 
 ^ Ellis, On Early English Pronunciation, p. 20. 
 
II. I iifluence of Climate. 63 
 
 which the other has not lost.^ This too, the unequal 
 incidence of phonetic decay, will account for much. 
 
 Nor may we leave out of sight what the elder 
 Grimm has dwelt on so strongly, and brought into so 
 clear a light — namely, the modifying influence on the 
 throat and other organs of speech, and thus on human 
 speech itself, which soil and climate exercise — an 
 influence which, however slight at any one moment, 
 yet being evermore in operation, produces effects very 
 far from slight in the end. We have here in great part 
 an explanation of the harsh and guttural sounds which 
 those dwelling in cold mountainous districts make 
 their own, of the softer and more liquid tones of those 
 who dwell in the plains and under a more genial sky. 
 These climatic influences indeed reach very far, not 
 merely as they affect the organs of speech, but also 
 the characters of those who speak ; which characters 
 will not fail in their turn to utter themselves in the 
 language. Where there is a general lack of energy 
 and consequent shrinking from effort, this will very 
 soon manifest itself in a corresponding feebleness in 
 the pronunciation of words, while, on the other hand, 
 a Dorian strength will show itself in a corresponding 
 breadth of utterance. 
 
 But it would lead me too far, were I to attempt to 
 make an exhaustive enumeration of all the forces 
 which are constantly at work, to set ever farther from 
 one another in this matter of language those who 
 once were entirely at one. These causes which I 
 have instanced must suffice. The contemplation of 
 these is enough to make evident that, even could we 
 
 ' Pott, Wtii'zel-Wdrterbuch, vol. ii. p. 258. 
 
64 English as it might have been. Lect. 
 
 abstract all the influences upon English which the 
 Norman Conquest has exercised, it would still re- 
 main a very different language at this day from any 
 now spoken by Old-Saxon or Frisian,^ that it would 
 
 ' In the contemplation of facts like these it has been some- 
 times anxiously asked, whether a day will not arrive when the 
 language now spoken alike on this side of the Atlantic and on 
 the other, will divide into two languages, an Old English and a 
 New. It is not impossible, and yet we can confidently hope 
 that such a day is far distant. For the present at least, there are 
 mightier forces tending to keep us together than those which are 
 tending to divide. Doubtless, if they who went out from among 
 us to people and subdue a new continent, had left these shores 
 two or three centuries earlier than they did, when the language 
 was much farther removed from that ideal after which it was 
 unconsciously striving, and in which, once reached, it has in 
 great measure acquiesced ; if they had not carried with them to 
 their new homes their English Bible, their English Shakespeare, 
 and what else of worth had already uttered itself in the English 
 tongue ; if, having once swarmed, the intercourse between Old 
 and New England had been entirely broken off, or only rare and 
 partial ; there would then have unfolded themselves differences 
 between the language spoken here and there, which, in tract of 
 time accumulating and multiplying, might already have gone 
 far to constitute the languages no longer one, but two. As it is, 
 however, the joint operation of those three causes, namely, that 
 the separation did not take place in the infancy or early youth 
 of the language, but only in its ripe manhood, that England and 
 America own a body of literature, to which they alike look up 
 and appeal as containing the authoritative standards of the 
 language, that the intercourse between the two peoples has been 
 large and frequent, hereafter probably to be larger and more 
 frequent still, has up to this present time been strong enough 
 effectually to traverse, repress, and check all those forces which 
 tend to divergence. At the same time one must own that there 
 are not wanting some ominous signs. Of late, above all since 
 the conclusion of their great Civil War, some writers on the 
 
II. The Norman Conquest. 65 
 
 be easy to set far too high the resemblance which 
 .under other circumstances might have existed between 
 EngHsh and the other dialects of the Teutonic stock. 
 Still they would have then resembled one another far 
 more nearly than now they do. Let us endeavour a 
 little to realize to ourselves English as it might then 
 have been ; and in view of this consider the disturbing 
 forces which the Norman domination in England 
 brought with it, and what their action upon the 
 language was ; so we shall be better able to measure 
 what the language in the absence of these influences 
 would have been. 
 
 other side of the Atlantic have announced that henceforth 
 America will, so to speak, set up for herself, will not accept any 
 longer the laws and canons of speech which may here be laid 
 down as of final authority for all members of the English- 
 speaking race, but travel in her own paths, add words to her 
 own vocabulary, adopt idioms of her own, as may seem the best 
 to her. She has a perfect right to do so ; either to make of 
 mar as it shall prove. The language is as much hers as ours. 
 There are on this matter some excellent remarks in Dwight's 
 Modern Philology, 1st ser. p. 141, with which compare Whitney, 
 Language and the Study of Language, p. 1 73. Still, for our 
 own sake, who now read so many books from America with 
 profit and delight, and look forward to a literature grander and 
 more original still unfolding itself there, for our own sake, that 
 we do not speak of hers, we must hope that 'to donate,' 'to 
 pacate,' 'to placate,' 'to berate,' 'to orate,' to speak, that is, 
 with a view to distant constituents, ' to reluct,' 'to eventuate,' 
 'to conveyance,' 'to belittle,' 'to happify,' 'shortage,' ' expres- 
 sage,' 'declinature,' 'skrimpy,' ' scrimption,' 'unleisuredness,' 
 ' retrogressionist,' 'resurrected,' ' factatively,' ' displurgingly,' 
 and the like, are not fair specimens of the words which will 
 constitute the future differentia between the vocabularies of 
 America and of England. 
 
 F 
 
66 English as it might have been. Lect. 
 
 The Battle of Hastings had been lost and won. 
 Whether, except for the strange and terrible coinci- 
 dence of the two invasions of England almost at the 
 same instant, the English battle-axes might not have 
 proved a match for the Norman spears we cannot now 
 determine. But the die was cast. The invader on 
 that day of St. Calixtus had so planted his foot on 
 English soil, that all after efforts were utterly impotent 
 to dislodge him. But it took nearly three centuries 
 before the two races, the victors and the vanquished, 
 who now dwelt side by side in the same land, were 
 thoroughly reconciled and blended into one people. 
 During the first century which followed the (Conquest, 
 the language of the native population was, as they 
 were themselves, utterly crushed and trodden under 
 foot. A foreign dynasty, speaking a foreign tongue, 
 and supported by an army of foreigners, was on the 
 throne of England ; Norman ecclesiastics filled all the 
 high places of the Church, filled probably every place 
 of honour and emolument ; Nomian castles studded 
 the land. During the second century, a reaction 
 may very distinctly be traced, at first most feeble, 
 but httle by little gathering strength, on the part of 
 the conquered race to reassert themselves, and as a 
 part of their reassertion to reassert the right of Eng- 
 lish to be the national language of England. In 
 the third century after the Conquest it was at length 
 happily evident that Normandy was for ever lost 
 (1206), that for Norman and Englishman alike there 
 was no other sphere but England ; this reassertion of 
 the old Saxondom of the land gaining strength every 
 day ; till, as a visible token that the vanquished were 
 again the victors, in the year 1349 English and not 
 
II. Norman and Saxon. 67 
 
 French was the language taught in the schools of this 
 land.i 
 
 But the English, which thus emerged from this 
 struggle of centuries during which it had refused to 
 die, was very different from that which had entered 
 into it. The whole of its elaborate inflections, its 
 artificial grammar, showed tokens of thorough dis- 
 organization and decay ; indeed most of it had already 
 disappeared. How this came to pass I cannot better 
 explain to you than in the words of the Professor of 
 Anglo-Saxon at Oxford. ' Great and speedy,' he ob- 
 serves, ' must have been the effect of the Norman 
 Conquest in ruining the ancient grammar. The 
 leading men in the state having no interest in the 
 vernacular, its cultivation fell immediately into neglect. 
 The chief of the Saxon clergy deposed or removed, 
 who should now keep up that supply of religious Saxon 
 literature, of the copiousness of which we may judge 
 even in our day by the considerable remains that have 
 outlived hostility and neglect ? Now that the Saxon 
 landowners were dispossessed, who should patronize 
 the Saxon bard, and welcome the man of song in the 
 halls of mirth ? The shock of the Conquest gave a 
 deathblow to Saxon literature. The English lan- 
 guage continued to be spoken by the masses who 
 
 ' On the whole subject of the relations in which the language 
 of a conquering people will stand to the language of the con- 
 quered, and on the causes which will determine the final triumph 
 of the one or the other, the reader is referred to Freeman's 
 Origin of the English Nation, Lecture III., in AIac77iillan^ s 
 Magazine, May, 1870, pp. 31 -46, and his Norman Conquest, 
 vol. V. p. 506, sqq. See also Sayce, Pi inciples of Comparative 
 Philology, p. 173, sqq. 
 
 F 2 
 
68 EnorlisJi as it niioJit have been. lect. 
 
 could speak no other ; and here and there a secluded 
 student continued to write in it. But its honours and 
 emoluments were gone, and a gloomy period of de- 
 pression lay before the Saxon language as before the 
 Saxon people. The inflection system could not live 
 through this trying period. Just as we accumulate 
 superfluities about us in prosperity, but in adversity 
 we get rid of them as encumbrances, and we like to 
 travel light when we have only our own legs to carry 
 us — just so it happened to the English language. For 
 now all these sounding terminations that made so 
 handsome a figure in Saxon courts ; the -an, the -um ; 
 the -ERA, the -ana ; the -igenne and -igenoum ; all 
 these, superfluous as bells on idle horses, were laid 
 aside when the nation had lost its own political life, 
 and its pride of nationality, and had received leaders 
 and teachers who spoke a strange tongue.' ^ 
 
 But another force, not from within but from with- 
 out, had been at work also for the disorganization of 
 the language and the effectual breaking up of its 
 grammar. A conquering race under the necessity of 
 communicating with a conquered in their own tongue 
 is apt to make very short work of the niceties of 
 grammar in that tongue, to brush all these away, as 
 so much trumpery, which they will not be at the 
 pains to master. If they can make their commands 
 intelligible, this is about all for which they are con- 
 cerned. They go straight to this mark j but whether, 
 in so doing, adjective agree with substantive, or verb 
 with noun, or the preposition govern its proper case, 
 for this they care nothing, if only they are under- 
 
 ' Earle, The Philology of the English Tongue^ p. 41. 
 
11. Perishing of Words. 69 
 
 stood. And this is not all ; there is a secret satis- 
 faction, a conscious sense of superiority, in thus 
 stripping the language of its grace and ornament, 
 outraging its laws, compelling it to novel fomis, 
 showing, even while it is used, how little it is regarded, 
 and making thus not merely the wills, but the very 
 speech of the conquered, to confess its subjection.^ 
 
 Nor was it the grammar only which had thus 
 become a ruin. Those three centuries ha-d made 
 enormous havoc in the vocabulary as well. Rich and 
 expressive as this had been in the palmy days of 
 Anglo-Saxon literature, abundantly furnished as un- 
 doubtedly then it was with words having to do with 
 matters of moral and intellectual concern, and in the 
 nomenclature of the passions and affections, it was 
 very far from being richly supplied with them now. 
 Words which dealt with the material interests of every- 
 day life could scarcely help remaining familiar and 
 vernacular ; but those pertaining to higher domains of 
 thought, feeling, and passion, and to all loftier culture 
 either moral or material, had in vast multitudes dropt 
 out of use and been forgotten. Curious illustrations 
 have been given of the destruction which had been 
 wrought in some of the most illustrious and far- 
 branching families of words, so that of some of these 
 there did not half a dozen, of others there did not one 
 representative, survive. ^ 
 
 The destruction of grammatical forms was, it is true, 
 only the acceleration and the more complete carrying 
 
 ' Compare Sir G. C. Lewis, On the Ro7nance Langiiages^ 
 pp. 21-23. 
 
 - Thus see Marsh, Origin and Ilisloiy of the English Lan- 
 guage, pp. 113, 443. 
 
70 E7iglish as it might have been. Lect. 
 
 out of what would anyhow have come to pass, although 
 perhaps not so thoroughl}^, as certainly not at so early 
 a date. For indeed there is nothing more certain than 
 that all languages in their historical period are in a 
 continual process of simplifying themselves, dropping 
 their subtler distinctions, allowing the mere colloca- 
 tion of words in their crude state or other devices of 
 the same kind to do that which cnce was done by 
 inflexion. - Had no Norman ever set foot on our 
 shores, the inflexional Old- English would still have 
 passed sooner or later into the non-inflexional modern 
 English.' ^ All which the Norman settlement among 
 us did was to hasten the inevitable process, and to 
 make it more complete. To this subject, however, I 
 shall have occasion by and by to recur ; I will not 
 therefore dwell upon it here. But the insufi^ciency of 
 the vocabulary, consequent in part on this impoverish- 
 ment of it, in part on the novel thoughts and things 
 claiming to find utterance through it, was a less toler- 
 able result of those centuries of depression ; happily 
 too was capable of partial if not of complete remedy; 
 which the perishing of grammatical forms, even if 
 remedy had been looked for, was not. 
 
 Two ways were open here. An attempt might have 
 been made to revive and recover the earlier words 
 which had been lost and let go ; and where new 
 needs demanded expression, to fabricate from the 
 vernacular words which should correspond to these 
 new needs. Now, if the revival of the English 
 nationality had meant the expulsion or destruction 
 of the dominant Norman race, this would very pro- 
 
 Freeman, The Norman Conqtiest, vol. v, p. 509. 
 
II. JV or man and Saxon. 71 
 
 bably have been the course taken ; and the reaction 
 would have put under a common ban language and 
 institutions aHke. But happily it meant no such thing. 
 It meant the blending of the two races into one, the 
 forming of a new English nation by the gradual coali- 
 tion or rather fusion of the two, by the growing con- 
 sciousness that this England was the equal heritage of 
 both, its welfare the common interest of both. It was 
 on neither side a triumph, or rather, as are all recon- 
 ciliations, it was on both sides a triumph. But where 
 under these circumstances should a supply of the new 
 necessities be so naturally looked for as from the 
 French ? That was the language of one of the parties 
 in this happy transaction ; of the one which, in respect 
 of language, was giving up far the most, and which 
 therefore might fairly look for this partial compen- 
 sation. Words of theirs, few as compared with those 
 which afterwards found an entrance into the English 
 tongue, but not few in themselves, had already effected 
 a lodgement there ; others, if not adopted, had become 
 more or less familiar to English ears ; not to say that 
 the language which they spoke was in possession of a 
 literature far in advance at that time of any other in 
 modern Europe, a literature eagerly read here as 
 elsewhere in originals or translations more or less free, 
 representing, as it did, that new world which was 
 springing up, and not, as the Anglo-Saxon did, an old 
 world which was passing or had passed away. 
 
 Now it is a very interesting question, and one which 
 often has been discussed. What proportion do the 
 French words which then found their way into the 
 language, or which have subsequently entered by the 
 door which was thus opened to them, by the declara- 
 
72 English as it might have bee^i. Lect. 
 
 tion then virtually made that their admission was not 
 contrary to the genius of the language, bear to the 
 original stock of the language on which they were 
 engrafted ? A recent enquirer, who professes to have 
 made an inventory of the whole language, has arrived 
 at this result, namely, that considerably more than 
 one half of our words, not indeed of those which we 
 use in writing, still less in speaking, but more than one 
 half of those registered in our dictionaries, are 
 Romanic,^ are therefore the result of the Norman 
 Conquest, and but for it with very few exceptions 
 would not have found their way to us at all. 
 
 I believe the proportion which he indicates to be 
 quite too high, and the data on which his calculation 
 proceeds to be altogether misleading. But without 
 entering upon this question, and assuming proportions 
 which I am persuaded are more accurate, let us sup- 
 pose that there are in round numbers one hundred 
 thousand words in the English language, — it is easy 
 to make them any number we please, according to the 
 scheme of enumeration upon which we start, to bring 
 them up to half as many again, or to reduce them, as 
 some have done, to less than one half,^ — and let us 
 further suppose that some thirty thousand of these have 
 come to us through that contact with France into 
 which the Battle of Hastings and its consequences 
 brought us, and but for these would never have 
 reached us at all. Let us, I say, assume this ; and a 
 
 ' Thommerel, Recherches siir la Fusion d7t Franco-N'ormand 
 et de V Anglo-Saxon. Paris, 1 841. 
 
 "^ Thus in Richardson's Lictionary the words beginning with 
 Z are 30 in number ; in Todd they are 47 ; in Webster, 89. 
 
II. Resources of the Language. 73 
 
 problem the most interesting presents itself to us — 
 namely, how should we, or whoever else might in that 
 event have been at this moment living in England, 
 have supplied the absence of these words? What 
 would Englishmen have done, if the language had 
 never received these additions ? It would be a slight 
 and insufficient answer, in fact no answer at all, to 
 reply, They would have done without them. They 
 could nothdJVQ done without them. The words which we 
 thus possess, and which it is suggested we might have 
 done without, express a multitude of facts, thoughts, 
 feehngs, conceptions, which, rising up before a people 
 growing in civilization, in knowledge, in learning, 
 in intercourse with other lands, in consciousness of its 
 own vocation in this world, ifiiist find their utterance 
 by one means or another, could not have gone with- 
 out some words or other to declare them. The pro- 
 blem before us is, tuhat these means would have been; 
 by what methods the language would have helped 
 itself, if it had been obliged, like so many sister- 
 dialects, to draw solely on its own resources, to rely 
 on home manufactures, instead of importing, as it was 
 able to do, so many serviceable articles ready made 
 from abroad. 
 
 To this question I answer first and generally, and 
 shall afterwards enter into particulars, that necessity 
 is the mother of invention, and that many powers 
 of the language, which are now in a great measure 
 dormant, which have been only partially evoked, 
 would have been called into far more frequent and 
 far more vigorous exercise, under the stress of those 
 necessities which would then have made themselves 
 felt. Take, for example, the power of composition, 
 
74 English as it might have been. Lect. 
 
 that is, of forming new words by the combination of 
 old — a power which the language possesses, though 
 it is one \\hich has grown somewhat weak and stiff 
 through disuse. This would doubtless have been 
 appealed to far more frequently than actually it has 
 been. Thrown back on itself, the language would 
 have evolved out of its own bosom, to supply its 
 various wants, a far larger number of compound words 
 than it has now produced. This is no mere guess of 
 mine. You have only to look at the sister German 
 language — half-%\%\.&x it is now, it would have been 
 7u/iok sister but for that famous field of Hastings 
 — and observe what it has effected in this line, how it 
 has stopped the gaps of which it has gradually become 
 aware by aid of these compound words, and you may 
 so learn what we, under similar conditions, would have 
 done. Thus, if we had not found it more convenient 
 to adopt the French ' desert,' if English had been 
 obhged, like the spider, to spin a word out of its own 
 bowels, it might have put 'sand-waste' together, as the 
 German actually has done. This and other words I 
 shall suggest may sound strange to you at first hear- 
 ing, but would have long since left oif their strange- 
 ness, had they been current for some hundreds of 
 years. If we had not the Low-Latin ' massacre,' we 
 might have had ' blood -bath,' which would not be a 
 worse word in English than in German. So too, if we 
 had not had ' deluge,' the Latin ' diluvium,' we too 
 might have lighted on ' sin-flood,' as others have done. 
 A duel might have been a ' two-fight ' or ' twifight,' 
 following the analogy of 'twilight' and ' twibill.' 
 Instead of ^ pirate ' we might have had ' sea-robber ; ' 
 indeed, if I do not mistake, we have the word. We 
 
II. Resources of the Language. 75 
 
 should have needed a word for ' hypocrisy ; ' but the 
 German ' scheinheiHgkeit ' at any rate suggests that 
 ' shewholiness ' might have effectually served our turn. 
 This last example is from the Greek, but the Greek in 
 our tongue entered in the rear of the Latin, and would 
 not have entered except by the door which that had 
 opened. 
 
 Let me at the same time observe, that the fact of 
 the Germans having fallen on these combinations 
 does not make it in the least certain that we should 
 have fallen upon the same. There is a law of neces- 
 sity in the evolution of languages; they pursue certain 
 courses on which we may confidently count. But 
 there is a law of liberty no less, and this liberty, 
 making itself felt in this region, together with a thou- 
 sand other causes, leaves it quite certain that in some, 
 and possibly in all these mstances, we should have 
 supplied our wants in some other way, not travelled 
 in exactly the same paths as they have struck out for 
 themselves. Thus, nearly allied as the Dutch is to 
 the German, and greatly under German influence as it 
 has been, it has a number of compound words of 
 which the German knows nothing.^ Still the examples 
 which I have given sufficiently indicate to us the direc- 
 tion which the language would have taken. 
 
 But we are not here driven to a region of conjec- 
 tures, or to the suggesting what might have been done. 
 We can actually appeal to a very numerous company 
 of these compound words, which have been in the 
 language ; but which have been suffered to drop, the 
 Latin competitors for some reason or other having, 
 
 See Jean Paul, Aesilictik, § 84. 
 
76 English as it might have been. Lect. 
 
 in that struggle for existence to which words are as 
 much exposed as animals, carried the day against it. 
 Now we may confidently affirm that all, or ver)^ 
 nearly all, of these would have survived to the pre- 
 sent hour, would constitute a part of our present 
 vocabulary, if they had actually been wanted ; and 
 they would have been wanted, if competing French 
 words, following in the train of the conquering race, 
 had not first made them not indispensable, and then 
 wholly pushed them from their places. When I say 
 this I do not mean to imply that these words were all 
 actually born before the Norman Conquest, but only 
 that the Conquest brought influences to bear, which 
 were too strong for them and in the end cut short 
 their existence. 
 
 ' Thus, if we had not proverb, ' soothsaw ' or ' by- 
 word ' would have served our turn ; ' sourdough ' 
 would have supplied the place of leaven ; ' wellwill- 
 ingness ' of benevolence ; ' againbuying ' of redemp- 
 tion ; ' againrising ' of resurrection ; ' undeadliness ' 
 of immortality ; ' uncunningness ' of ignorance ; ' un- 
 mildness ' of asperity; ' forefighter ' of champion; 
 ' earthtilth ' of agriculture ; ' earthtiller ' of agricul- 
 turist ; ' comeling ' of stranger ; ' greatdoingly ' of 
 magnificently ; ' to afterthink ' (still in use in Lanca- 
 shire), might have stood for to repent ; ' to beforesay ' 
 for to prophesy ; ' medeful ' for meritorious ; ' untel- 
 lable ' or ' unoutspeakable ' for ineffable ; ' dearworth ' 
 for precious ; ' turngidy ' for vertigo — all which are in 
 Wiclif. Better even than his '■ undeadfiness,' and how 
 grand a word, is ' undeathshuldigness ' (I have very 
 slightly modernized the spelHng), which occurs in the 
 Ormulum^ instead of ' immortality.' Chaucer has * fore- 
 
II. Words we should have retained, 'j'j 
 
 word ' for promise; ' bodeword ' for prohibition ; Fiei^s 
 Ploughman ' goldhoard ' for treasure ; and Layamon 
 ' bookhouse ' for library. ' Tongful ' (see Bosworth), 
 or ' tungy ' (Wiclif), would have stood for loquacious ; 
 * truelessness ' for perfidy ; ' footfast ' for captive ; ' all- 
 witty ' {Pricke of Conscience) for omniscient ; ' witword ' 
 for testimony ; ' godspeller' (Hampole) for evangelist; 
 ' welldeed ' for benefit. Jewel has ' fore talk ' for pre- 
 face ; Coverdale ' childship ' for adoption, ' showtoken' 
 for sign, ' to unhallow ' for to profane ; Holland ' sun- 
 stead ' for solstice ; Rogers ' turnagains ' for reverses. 
 As little should we have let go ' bookcraft ' for litera- 
 ture, ' shipcraft ' for navigation, 'leechcraft' for medi- 
 cine, ' wordcraft ' for logic, ' songsmith ' for poet, 
 ' warsmith ' for soldier, ' shapesmith ' for posture- 
 maker, or ' timberwright ' for carpenter. ' Starconner ' 
 (Gascoigne) did service once side by side with as- 
 trologer ; ' redesman ' with counsellor ; ' halfgod ' 
 (Golding) has the advantage over demigod, that it is 
 all of one piece; 'to eyebite' (Holland) tells its 
 story at least as well as to fascinate ; ' to overwin ' as 
 to vanquish ; ' weaponshew ' ( the word, for us a little 
 disguised, still lives in Scotland) as review ; 'yearday' 
 {^Promptoriuni) as anniversary ; ' shriftfather ' as con- 
 fessor ; ' unrestfulness ^ (Spenser) as disquietude ; 
 ' evenhood ' (Levins) as equality; ' betterment ' (Jack- 
 son) as amelioration ; 'holdings ' (Pecock) as tenets ; 
 ' unshunnable ' (Shakespeare) as inevitable. ' Earshrift ' 
 (Tyndale) is only two syllables, while auricular con- 
 fession is eight ; ' eyeproof ' has the same advantage 
 over ocular demonstration, ' proof,' however, would 
 not have been of homegrowth ; ' watertight ' is pre- 
 ferable to our awkward hydrophobia ; ' watersick ' is 
 
yS English as it might have been. lect. 
 
 as good as dropsical ; and ' squint/ though homeHer 
 than hagioscope, might have served our turn as well. 
 The lamprey (lambens petram) would have been, as 
 in country parts it now is, the 'suckstone' or the 
 ' lickstone ; ' and the anemone the ' windflower.' 
 For remorse of conscience we might have had, and 
 it exactly corresponds, '■ ayenbite of inwyt,' being, as 
 this is, the title of a remarkable religious treatise of 
 the middle of the fourteenth century ; ^ in which I 
 observe among other noticeable substitutes for our 
 Latin words, 'unlusthead' for disinclination. Emi- 
 grants would everywhere have been called what 
 they are now called in districts of the North, 
 ' outwanderers ' or ' outgangers ; ' natives would have 
 been ' homelings ; ' apologies would have been ' off- 
 comes ' (Whitby dialect). A preacher who should bid 
 us to sacrifice some of our ' neednots ' (the word is in 
 Fuller), instead of some of our superfluities, to the 
 distresses of others, would not deliver his message 
 less intelligibly than now ; and as little would he who 
 should enumerate the many ' pullbacks ' (it is a Puritan 
 word), instead of the many hindrances, which u e find 
 in the way of attaining to eternal life. 
 
 Then too with the absence from the language of 
 the Latin prefixes, the Saxon would have come far more 
 into play. The Latin which we employ the most fre- 
 quently, or rather which are oftenest found in words 
 which we have adopted, are ' sub ' as in ' subdue,' 
 
 ' The Ayenbite of Inwyt is, in a philological point of view, 
 one of the most valuable of the many valuable books which the 
 Early English Text Society has rendered accessible at an extra- 
 ordinarily low price to all who wish to study the origins of the 
 English language. 
 
II. Words we should have retained. 79 
 
 ' subtract ; ' ^ de ' as in ' descendant/ ' deprive ; ' 
 ' circum ' as in ' circumference/ ' circumvent ; ' and 
 ' prcC ' or ' pro ' as in ' predecessor/ ' progenitor.' Had 
 these been wanting, the Latin words to which they 
 are prefixed would have been wanting too. How 
 would the language have fared without them? Not 
 so ill. They would have left no chasm which it 
 would not have been comparatively easy to fill up. 
 Thus if the speakers of English had not possessed 
 ' subjugate' they would have had ' underyoke/ if not 
 ' subvert/ yet still ' underturn/ and so on with many 
 more now to be found in Wiclif's Bible and elsewhere. 
 There is not at the present moment a single word in 
 the English language — one or two may perhaps sur- 
 vive in the dialects — beginning with the prefix • um/ 
 the Old English ' ymb/ the Greek aii(\n. There were 
 once a great many. An embrace was an ' umgripe ' 
 or a gripe round, a circuit an ' umgang ; ' the circum- 
 ference or periphery of a circle was the ' um stroke ; 
 to surround was to ' umlapp ' {F7'icke of Conscience) ; to 
 besiege on every side ' to umbesiege ' (Sibbald, Glos- 
 sa?'y). The last appearance of ' umstroke/ if I am 
 not mistaken, is in Fuller, who uses it more than 
 once in his Pisgah Sight of Palestine, while it would 
 be very difficult, if not impossible, to find so late an 
 example of any of the others. We might have had, 
 and probably should have had in the case which I am 
 imagining, a large group of such words, instead of 
 those now beginning with ' circum.' In the absence 
 of ' prse ' or ' pro,' ' fore,' which even now enters into 
 so many of our words, as ' foretell,' ' forewarn,' would 
 have entered into more. As we have just seen, for 
 preface we should have ' foretalk/ or ' forespeech ' 
 
So English as it might have been. lect. 
 
 {Aycnbite) ; for predecessor ' foreganger,' for presenti- 
 ment * forefeeling,' for progenitor ' fore-elder ; ' — in all 
 this I am not guessing, but am everywhere adducing 
 words which existed once in the language. 
 
 The prefix 'for/ adding an intensitive meaning, one, 
 that is, of thoroughness, and corresponding to the 
 German ' ver,' the Latin ' per,' — not therefore to be 
 confounded with ' fore,' — to which we already owe 
 several excellent words, ' forlorn,' ' forbid,' ' forego,' 
 would have yielded us many more, each one of which 
 would have rendered some Latin word superfluous. 
 We can adduce the participles, ' forwandered ' (Piers 
 Ploitghmafi)^ ' forwounded,' ' forwept,' * forpined,' 
 ' forbruised,' with many more in Chaucer, ' forwearied,' 
 'forwasted' (Spenser), ' forwelked,' and the verbs 
 ' forfaren,' to go to ruin (exactly the Latin ' per-ire '), 
 ' forshapen '=to deform {Piers Ploughman), ' for- 
 withered,' ' forfaint ' (Sackville), with other words not 
 a few, as samples of what further in this direction, 
 if need had been, the language could have effected. 
 ' Mis ' too, which already does much work, as in 
 * misplace,' ' mislead,' ' mishappen,' if this word may 
 be claimed as still existing, would have been called to 
 do more ; instead of to abuse we should have had ' to 
 miscall ' (the word is even now in popular use) ; and 
 the like. ' Out ' would have been put to more duty 
 than now it is ; thus ' outtake ' would have kept the 
 place from which now it has been thrust by ' except^' 
 as ' outdrive ' has been by ' expel.' It would have 
 fared th.e same with ' after.' Instead of our successors 
 we should speak of our ' aftercomers ; ' consequences 
 would have been ' aftercomings ; ' posthumous would 
 have been ' afterborn ; ' a postscript an * aftertale.' 
 
II. Words we should have retained. 8 1 
 
 All these too existed once, ' To backjaw ' is current 
 in some of our dialects still, and would have been a 
 vigorous substitute for ' to retort.' 
 
 Something, again, may be concluded of what the 
 English-speaking race would have been able to effect, 
 if thrown exclusively upon such wealth as it possessed 
 at home, by considering the more or less successful 
 attempts of some who have chosen, without any such 
 absolute necessity, to travel the paths, which in that 
 case, there would have been no choice but to tread. 
 Thus Sir John Cheke, in his version of St. Matthew, 
 has evidently substituted, as often a.s he could, Saxon 
 words for Greek and Latin ; thus for proselyte he has 
 substituted ' freshman,' for prophet ' foreshewer,' for 
 lunatic ' mooned.' Puttenham in the terms of art 
 which he employs m his Art of English Poesy has 
 made a similar attempt, though with no remarkable 
 success. Fairfax, author of a curious and in some 
 aspects an interesting book, The Bulk and Selvedge 
 of the Worlds has done better. He too would fain by 
 his own example show how very rarely even in a 
 subject of large range it is necessary to employ any 
 other words than such as are homegrowths ; that 
 'moreness,' for example, does its work as well as 
 plurality, ' findings ' as inventions. I extract a brief 
 passage from the Introduction, at once for its bearing 
 on the subject which we now have in hand, and also 
 as itself a testimony of the vigorous English which it is 
 possible under such self-imposed limitations to write : 
 * I think it will become those of us, who have a more 
 hearty love for what is our own, than wanton longings 
 after what is others', to fetch back some of our own 
 words that have been jostled out in wrong, that worse 
 
 G 
 
82 English as it might have been, Lect. 
 
 from elsewhere might be hoisted in ; or else to call in 
 from the fields and waters, shops and workhousen, 
 that well fraught world of words that answers w^orks, 
 by which all learners are taught to do, and not to make 
 a clatter.' 
 
 This subject on one occasion being under familiar 
 discussion, and one present vaunting the powers of 
 our Anglo-Saxon tongue to produce words of its own 
 which should thus answer any and every want, so 
 that it need never be beholden to any foreign tongue, 
 another put him to the proof, demanding a sufficient 
 native equivalent for ' impenetrability.' ' Unthorough- 
 faresomeness ' was promptly produced . The word 
 may not be a graceful one, but take it to pieces, and 
 you will find nothing wanting to it. For what is 
 impenetrability ? It is the quality in one thing which 
 does not allow it to be pierced or passed through by 
 another. And now dissect its proposed equivalent ; 
 and first, detaching from it its two prefixes, and 
 affixes as many, you have ' fare ' or passage for the 
 body of the word ; you have next ' thoroughfare ' 
 or place through w^hich there is a passage ; by 
 aid of the suffix 'some' you obtain the adjective 
 ' thoroughfaresome,' or affording a passage through ; 
 the negative prefix ' un ' gives you ' unthoroughfare- 
 some,' the negation of this ; and the second suffix 
 ' ness,' ' unthoroughfaresomeness,' or the state which 
 refuses to afford a passage through, — in other words, 
 impenetrability. 
 
 We can thus, I think, trace, and not altogether 
 by mere guesswork or at random, some of the paths 
 along which English would have travelled, had it been 
 left to itself, and to its own natural and orderly 
 
II. Resources of the Language. 8 
 
 J 
 
 development, instead of being forced, by the stress of 
 external circumstances, into paths in part at least 
 altogether new. We can assert with confidence that 
 it would have been no unserviceable, shiftless, nor 
 ignoble tongue ; and this, while we gladly and thank- 
 fully acknowledge that it has done better, being what it 
 is, the language in which our English Bible is written, 
 in which Shakespeare and Milton have garnered for 
 the after world the rich treasure of their minds. 
 
 IvCt us, before quite dismissing this subject, con- 
 template two or three points which broadly dis- 
 tinguish English as it is from English as it would 
 then have been. The language, we may be quite sure, 
 would in that case have been more abundantly sup- 
 plied with inflections than at present it is. It was, as 
 we saw just now, during the period of extreme 
 depression which followed on the Conquest that it 
 stripped itself so bare of these. I do not of course 
 mean to imply that a vast number of inflections would 
 not, according to the universal law of all languages, 
 have anyhow fallen away. But continuing, as it would 
 have done, the language of the Church, the Court, and 
 of literature, it would never have becoiTie that mere 
 torso which it was, when at length it emerged vic- 
 torious from its three hundred years of conflict for 
 supremacy on this English soil. We should assuredly 
 have possessed a much more complex grammatical 
 system, probably as complex or nearly as complex as 
 the German possesses at the present day. Foreigners 
 complain that even now English is hard enough to 
 master \ it would assuredly have been much harder 
 then. There would have been many more distinc- 
 
84 English as it might have bee7i. lect. 
 
 tions to remember. Our nouns substantive, instead of 
 being all declined in one uniform manner, would have 
 been declined some in one way, some in another ; they 
 would probably have had their three genders, — mas- 
 culine, feminine, and neuter ; and have modified ac- 
 cording to these the terminations of the adjectives in 
 regimen with them ; and • very much more of this 
 kind, now dismissed, and on the whole happily dis- 
 missed, would have been retained. 
 
 The language is infinitely richer now in synonyms 
 than but for this settlement of French and Latin in its 
 midst it would have been — in words covering the 
 same, or very nearly the same, spaces of meaning. In 
 cases almost innumerable it has what we may call 
 duplicate words ; there can be very few languages in the 
 world so amply furnished with these. The way it has 
 obtained them is this. It has kept the Saxon word, 
 and superadded to this the Latin, or the French de- 
 rived from the Latin. Thus we have kept ' heavenly,' 
 but we have added ' celestial ; ' we have not dismissed 
 ' earthly,' though we have acquired ' terrestrial ; ' nor 
 ' fiery,' though we have adopted ' igneous ; ' ' provi- 
 dence ' has not put ' foresight ' out of use, nor ' flower ' 
 ' bloom,' nor ' benediction ' ' blessing,' nor ' reign ' 
 ' kingdom,' nor ' omnipotent ' ' almighty,' nor ' pon- 
 derous ' ' weighty,' nor ' cordial ' ' hearty,' nor ' exon- 
 erate ' ' unburden.' I might go on instancing these 
 almost without end, but I have dwelt more fully on 
 this matter elsewhere,* and here therefore will not 
 urge it more. 
 
 Nor can it be said that this abundance is a mere 
 
 ' Study of Words, i6da edit. p. 252. 
 
II. Duplicates in English. 85 
 
 piece of luxury, still less that it is an embarrassment. So 
 far from this, it brings many substantial advantages with 
 it. It gives the opportunity of weaving nowa homeHer, 
 now a more scholarly garment of speech, as may seem 
 most advisable for the immediate need. Poetry is 
 evidently a gainer by it, in the wider choice of 
 expressions which it has thus at command, to meet 
 its manifold exigencies, now of rhyme, now of melody, 
 and now of sentiment. And prose is not less a gainer, 
 demanding as it does rhythm and modulation and 
 cadence, though of another kind, quite as urgently as 
 poetry does, and having these much more within 
 reach through this ampler choice of words than other- 
 wise it would have had. Thus most of us have 
 admired in Handel's greatest composition the magni- 
 ficent effect of those words from the Apocalypse, 
 ' For the Lord God omnipotent reigneth.' Now the 
 word which our Translators have here rendered 
 ' omnipotent,' they have everywhere else rendered 
 ' almighty ; ' but substitute ' almighty ' here, and how 
 manifest the loss. What a sublime variation have they 
 thus found within their reach. ^ 
 
 ^ I only know one in modern times, but he is one whose 
 judgments must always carry great weight, Dr. Guest, who in 
 his Histoij of English Rhythms takes a less favourable view of 
 the results of the large importation of French and Latin words 
 into the language : — ' The evils resulting from these importations 
 have, I think, been generally underrated in this country. When 
 a language must draw upon its own wealth for a new term, its 
 forms and analogies are kept fresh in the minds of those who so 
 often use them. But with the introduction of foreign terms, not 
 only is the symmetry — the science — of the language injured, but 
 its laws are brought less frequently under notice, and are the 
 less used, as their application becomes more difficult. If a new 
 word were added to any of the purer languages, such as the 
 
86 English as it might have been. lect. 
 
 These are manifest gains \ but for all this I would 
 not affirm that everything is gain. Thus if our Saxon 
 had never been disturbed, there would certainly have 
 been in the language a far smaller number of what our 
 ancestors called ' inkhom terms,' the peculiar pro- 
 perty of the scholar, not used and not understood by 
 the poor and the ihiterate. More words would be 
 what all words ought to be, and once were, ' thought- 
 pictures,' transparent with their own meaning, telling 
 their own story to everybody. Thus if I say that 
 Christ ' sympathizes ' with his people, or even if I say, 
 ' has compassion,' I am not sure that every one 
 follows me ; but if I were to say. He ' fellows-feels,' and 
 the w^ord existed not long ago, as ' fellow-feeling ' does 
 still, all w^ould understand. ' Redemption ' conveys to 
 our poor the vague impression of some great benefit ; 
 but ' againbuying ' would have conveyed a far more 
 distinct one. ' Middler ' — this word also is to be 
 found in Wiclif — would have the same advantage over 
 ' mediator.' Even our Authorized Version, compa- 
 ratively little as we have to complain of there, would 
 itself not have lost, but gained, if its authors had 
 been absolutely compelled to use the store of English 
 vocables at their command, if sometimes they had 
 
 Sanscrit, the Greek, or the Welsh, it would soon be the root of 
 numerous offshoots, substantives, adjectives, verbs, &c., all 
 formed according to rule, and modifying the meaning of their 
 root according to well-known analogies. But in a mixed and 
 broken language few or no such consequences follow. The 
 word remains barren and the language is " enriched " like a tree 
 covered over with wreaths taken from the boughs of its neigh- 
 bour ; which carries a goodly show of foliage and withers 
 beneath the shade.' 
 
II. English benefited by the Conqtiest, Sy 
 
 been shut in, so to speak, to these ; for instance, if 
 instead of ' celestial bodies and bodies terrestrial,' they 
 had had no choice but to write ' heavenly bodies and 
 bodies earthly' (i Cor. xv. 40). All would have 
 understood them then ; I very much doubt whether 
 all understand them now. 
 
 Other advantages too might have followed, if the 
 language had continued all of one piece. Thus in the 
 matter of style, it would not have been so fatally easy 
 for one writing bad English to fancy this bad to be 
 good, as now it is. That worst and most offensive 
 kind of bad English, which disguises poverty of 
 thought, and lack of any real command over the 
 language, by the use of big, hollow lumbering Latin 
 words, would not have been possible. It is true that 
 on the other hand the opportunities of writing a grand, 
 sustained, stately English would not have been nearly 
 so great, except for the incoming of that multitude of 
 noble words which Latin, the stateliest of all languages, 
 has lent us. Something not very different indeed, not 
 immeasurably remote from Swift's or Dryden's prose, 
 might have existed ; but nothing in the least re- 
 sembling the stately march of Hooker's, of Milton's, 
 or Jeremy Taylor's, or Sir Thomas Browne's. A 
 good style would have been a much less complex 
 matter than now it is ; the language would have been 
 an instrument with not so many strings, an organ with 
 fewer pipes and stops, of less compass, with a more 
 limited diapason, wanting many of the grander 
 resonances which it now possesses ; but an instrument 
 easier to play on, requiring infinitely less skill ; not so 
 likely to betray into gross absurdities, nor to make an 
 open show of the incapacity of such as handled it 
 badly. 
 
88 En owlish as it mio^ht have been. lect. 
 
 On the whole, then, while that Norman Conquest, 
 in the disturbing forces which it has exerted on the 
 English language, has no doubt brought with it losses 
 no less than gains, we may boldly affirm that the 
 gains transcend the losses. As so many things have 
 wrought together to make England what she is, as 
 we may trace in our ' rough island-story ' so many 
 wonderful ways in which good has been educed from 
 evil, and events the most unpromising have left their 
 blessing behind them, not otherwise has it been here. 
 That which brought down our English tongue from 
 its pride of place, stript it of so much in which it 
 gloried, condemned it, as might have seemed, if not to 
 absolute extinction, yet to serve henceforward as the 
 mere patois of an illiterate race of subject bondsmen 
 and hinds, it was even that very event which in its 
 ultimate consequences wrought out for it a complete- 
 ness which it would never else have obtained. So 
 strange in their ultimate issues and results are the 
 ways of Providence with men. 
 
in. Lano-itao-es alive and dead. 89 
 
 %^ "''^^^ 
 
 LECTURE III. 
 
 GAINS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 
 
 IT is with good right that we speak of some 
 languages as livings of others as dead. All 
 languages which are spoken still may be ranged in the 
 first class ; for as men will never consent to use a 
 language without more or less modifying it in their 
 use, will never so far forego their own activity as to 
 leave it exactly where they found it, there follows from 
 this that so long as it is thus the utterance of men 
 thinking and acting, it Avill inevitably show itself alive, 
 and that by many unmistakeable proofs, by growth 
 and misgrowth, by acquisition and loss, by progress 
 and decay. This title therefore of living, a spoken 
 language abundantly deserves ; for it is one in which, 
 uttered as it is by living men, vital energies are 
 still in operation. It is one which is in course of 
 actual evolution ; which, if the life that animates it be 
 a healthy one, is appropriating and assimilating to 
 itself what it anywhere finds congenial to its own life, 
 multiplying its resources, increasing its wealth ; while 
 at the same time it is casting off useless and cumber- 
 some forms, dismissing from its vocabulary words of 
 which it finds no use, rejecting by a reactive energy 
 the foreign and heterogeneous, which may for a while 
 
90 Gains of the Eiiglish Language, lect. 
 
 have forced themselves upon it.^ In the process of 
 all this it may easily make mistakes. In the desire to 
 simplify, it may let go distinctions which were not use- 
 less, and which it would have been better to retain. 
 The acquisitions which it makes are very far from being 
 all gains. It sometimes rejects as worthless, and 
 suffers to die out and disappear what served for many 
 and most necessary uses, was most worthy to have 
 lived. So far as it falls into any of these mistakes its 
 life is not healthy; it is not growing richer but poorer ;' 
 there are here tokens, however remote and slight as 
 yet, of disorganization, decay, and ultimate death. 
 But still it lives, and even these misgrowths and mal- 
 formations, the rejection of this good, the taking up 
 into itself of that bad, these errors are themselves the 
 utterances and evidences of life. A dead language 
 knows nothing of all this. It is dead, because books, 
 and not now any generation of living men, are the 
 guardians of it ; and what they guard, they guard 
 without change. Its course has been run, and it is 
 now equally incapable of gaining and of losing. We 
 may come to know it better ; but in. itself it is not, 
 and never can be, other than it was before it ceased 
 from the lips of men. In one sense it is dead, though 
 in another, if the life which it once lived was a glorious 
 
 ^ Renan {Les Langues Semitic] ues, p. 411): Les langucs 
 doivent done etre comparees aux etres vivants de la nature, et 
 non a ce regne immuable ou la matiere et la forme parti cipent 
 au raeme caractere de stabilite, ou I'accroissement se fait par 
 I'agglomeration exterieure, et non par intussusception ; leur vie, 
 comme celle de I'homme et de I'humanite, est un acte d'assimi- 
 lation interieure, une circulation non interrompue du dehors au 
 dedans et du dedans au dehors, un_/?fnperpetuel. 
 
. III. English a living Langtiage. 9 1 
 
 one, it may be more true to say of it that it has put on 
 immortahty. 
 
 But there is another sense in which languages may 
 be affirmed to be hving still. As men in a very real 
 sense live on in their children, so languages, them- 
 selves no longer spoken tongues, may yet prolong their 
 existence through other languages to which in dying 
 they have given birth ; so that what showed in them 
 as decay, disorganization, and death, and in one 
 sense was such, may be found in another sense to have 
 been the beginnings of a new life. Thus Italian, 
 Spanish, French are daughters in which Latin still 
 lives. But such a birth out of death as this is too large 
 a subject to speak of here, nor does it belong to our 
 immediate theme. 
 
 Our own is, of course, a living language still. It 
 is therefore gaining and losing. It is a tree in which 
 the vital sap is circulating yet ; and as this works, 
 new leaves are continually being put forth by it, old 
 are dying and dropping away. I propose to consider 
 some of the evidences of this life at work in it still. 
 In my present lecture and in that which follows I 
 shall take for my subject, the soiwces from which the 
 English language has enriched its vocabulary, the 
 periods at which it has made the chief additions to 
 this, the character of the additions which at different 
 periods it has made, and the motives which induced it 
 to seek them. 
 
 In my first lecture I dwelt with some emphasis 
 on the fact, that the core, the radical constitution of 
 our language, is English ; so that, composite or mingled 
 as it is, it is such only in its vocabulary, not in its con- 
 struction, inflections, or generally its grammatical 
 
92 Gains of the E7tglish Language, lect. 
 
 forms. These are all of one piece ; there is indeed 
 no amalgamation possible in these ; and whatever of 
 new has come in has been compelled to conform itself 
 to the old. The framework is native ; only a part of 
 the filling in is exotic ; and of this filling in, of these 
 comparatively more recent accessions, I now propose 
 to speak. 
 
 The first great augmentation by foreign words of 
 our Old- English vocabulary, and that which in im- 
 portance has very far exceeded all the others put 
 together, was a consequence, although not an im- 
 mediate one, of the Battle of Hastings. You will 
 have gathered from what I have said already that ■ I 
 am unable to share in the sentimental regrets over 
 the results of that battle in which Thierry has led 
 the way. With the freest acknowledgment of the 
 miseries entailed for a while on the Saxon race by the 
 Norman Conquest, I can regard that Conquest in no 
 other light than as the making of England ; a judg- 
 ment, it is true, but a judgment and a mercy in one. 
 It was a rough and rude, and yet most necessary 
 discipline, to which the race which for so many 
 hundred years had occupied the English soil was 
 thereby submitted ; a great tribulation, yet one not 
 undeserved, and which could not have been spared ; 
 so grievously relaxed were all the moral energies of 
 Saxon England at the time of the Conquest, so far 
 had the vigour of those institutions by which alone 
 a nation lives, decayed and departed. God never 
 showed more plainly that He had a great part for 
 England to play in the world's story than when He 
 brought hither that aspiring Norman race. Heavily 
 as for a while they laid their hand on the subject 
 
III. Results of the Norman Co7iqiiest. 93 
 
 people, they did at the same time contribute elements 
 absolutely essential to the future greatness and glory 
 of the land which they made their own. But it is only 
 of their contributions in one particular direction that 
 we have here to speak. 
 
 Neither can it be said of these that they followed 
 at once. The actual interpenetration of our earlier 
 English with any large amount of French words did 
 not find place till a very much later day. Some French 
 words we find very soon after ; but in the main 
 the two streams of language continued for a long 
 while separate and apart, even as the two nations 
 remained aloof from one another, a conquering and 
 a conquered, and neither forgetting the fact. It was 
 not till the middle of the fourteenth century that 
 French words began to find their way in any very 
 large number into English. Then within a period of 
 some fifty years very many more effected a permanent 
 settlement among us than had so done during the 
 three hundred preceding. In the bringing in of these 
 too much has been ascribed to the influence and 
 authority of a single man. Some have praised, others 
 have blamed,^ Chaucer overmuch for his share in this 
 work. Standing in the forefront of his time, he no 
 doubt fell in with and set forward tendencies in the 
 
 ' Thus Alexander Gil, head-master of St. Paul's School, in 
 his book, Logonomia Anglica, 162 1, Preface: Hue usque pere- 
 grinse voces in lingua Anglica inauditse. Tandem circa annum 
 1400 Galfridus Chaucerus, infausto omine, vocabulis Gallicis et 
 Latinis poesin suam famosam reddidit. The whole passage, 
 which is too long to quote, as indeed the whole book, is 
 curious. 
 
94 Gains of the English Language, lect. 
 
 language, yet these such, it is plain, as were in active 
 operation already. To assume that the greater num- 
 ber of French vocables which he employed had 
 never been employed before, were strange to English 
 ears, is to assume, as Tyrwhitt urges well, that his 
 poetry presented to his contemporaries a motley patch- 
 work of language, and is quite irreconcilable with the 
 fact that he took his place at once as the popular poet 
 of the nation.^ 
 
 It ^v•ould be hardly too much to affirm that there 
 is quite as large a proportion of Latin words in Piers 
 Ploughman as in Chaucer, — certainly a very remarkable 
 fact, when we call to mind that Piers Ploughman dates 
 some twenty or thirty years earlier than Chaucer's 
 more important poems, that in form it cleaves to the 
 old alliterative scheme of versification, and in sub- 
 stance evidently addresses itself not to the courtier or 
 the churchman, but claims to find, as we know it 
 actually found, its proper audience among the com- 
 monalty of the realm. Its religious, ecclesiastical, and 
 ethical terminology is abundant, and with rare excep- 
 tions is Latin throughout — which, when we keep in 
 mind the opulence in such terms of the earlier Anglo- 
 Saxon, signally attests the havoc which had been 
 wrought during the centuries of depression in all the 
 
 ^ In' his Testament of Love he expresses his contempt of 
 Englishmen who would not be content to clothe their thoughts 
 in an English garb : ' Let these clerkes endyten in Latyn, for they 
 have the propertye in science and the knowinge in that facultye, 
 and lette Frenchmen in their Frenche also endyte their queynt 
 termes, for it is kyndly to theyr mouthes ; and let us shewe our 
 fantasyes as we learneden of our dames tonge.' 
 
III. French Words in English. 95 
 
 finer elements of the language. We meet there with 
 ' abstinence,' ' ampulle,' ' assoil,' ' avarice,' ' benigne,' 
 ' bomitee/ ' cardinal vertues/ ' conscience/ ' charite'e,' 
 ' chastite'e,' ' confession,' ' consistory,' ' comtemplatif,' 
 'contrition,' 'indulgence,' ' leaute'e,' 'mitigation,' 
 ' monial,' ' recreant,' ' relic,' ' reverence,' ' sanctite'e,' 
 ' spiritual,' ' temporaltee,' ' unitee.' Already we find 
 in Pie7's Floughman French words which the English 
 language has finally proved unable, or at any rate has 
 declined, to take up into itself, as ' bienfait,' ' brocage,' 
 'chibolles,' 'creaunt,' 'devoir,' 'entremetten,' 'fiUe,' 'lo- 
 sengerie; ' ' mestier,' ' pain ' (=bread), ' prest' (=pret). 
 The real difference between Langlande and Chaucer 
 is that the former seems to us, as we read, only to have 
 imperfectly fused into one harmonious whole the two 
 elements whereof the language which he writes is 
 composed ; while the mightier artist — though he too 
 was no mean one, — has brought them into so perfect a 
 chemical combination, that we never pause to consider 
 from what quarter the ore which he has wrought into 
 such current money was extracted, whether from the 
 old mines of the land, or imported from other new 
 ones, opened beyond the sea. But the Romance of 
 William of Falerfte ?>m'^^\\q?> evidence more remarkable 
 still. Madden puts 1350, nearly half a century earlier 
 than the Canterbury Tales, as about the date of this 
 poem. Here are some of the words which it yields, 
 ' aunter,' ' bacheler,' ' defaute,' ' deraine,' ' digne,' 
 ' duresse,' ' emperice,' ' eritage,' ' facioun,' ' feyntise,' 
 ' hautein,' ' merciabul,' ' mesurabul/ 'paramour,' ' queyn- 
 tise,' ' scowmfit,' ' travail,' with very many more of like 
 kind. 
 
 Other considerations will tend to the abating of the 
 
96 Gains of the English Langicage. Lect. 
 
 exclusive merit or demerit of Chaucer in this matter. 
 There were other forces beside Hterature which at 
 this time were helping to saturate English with as much 
 of French as it could healthily absorb. ' It is/ Marsh 
 says, ' a great but very widely spread error, to suppose 
 that the influx of French words in the fourteenth 
 century was due alone to poetry and other branches 
 of pure literature. The law, which now first became 
 organized into a science, introduced very many terms 
 borrowed from the nomenclature of Latin and French 
 jurisprudence ; the glass-worker, the enameller, the 
 architect, the brass-founder, the Flemish clothier, and 
 the other handicraftsmen, whom Norman taste and 
 luxury invited, or domestic oppression expelled from 
 the Continent, brought with them the vocabularies of 
 their respective arts ; and Mediterranean commerce — 
 which was stimulated by the demand for English 
 wool, then the finest in Europe — imported, from the 
 harbours of a sea where French was the predominant 
 language, both new articles of merchandize and the 
 French designation of them. The sciences too, medi- 
 cine, physics, geography, alchemy, astrology, all of 
 which became known to England chiefly through 
 French channels, added numerous specific terms to the 
 existing vocabulary, and very many of the words, first 
 employed in English writings as a part of the technical 
 phraseology of these various arts and knowledges, soon 
 passed into the domain of common life, in modified 
 or untechnical senses, and thus became incorporated 
 into the general tongue of society and of books.' 
 
 It is true that there happened here what will happen 
 in every attempt to transplant on a large scale the 
 words of one language into another. The new soil 
 
III. Chaucer s Selection of Words. 97 
 
 will not prove equally favourable for all. Some will 
 take root and thrive ; but others, after a longer or 
 shorter interval, will pine and wither and die. Not all 
 the words which Langlande or Chaucer employed, and 
 for which they stood sponsors, found final allowance 
 with us. At the same time, such an issue as this 
 was no condemnation of their attempt. Nothing but 
 actual proof could show whether the language needed, 
 and would therefore absorb these ; or, not needing, 
 would in due time reject them.^ How little in excess 
 Chaucer in this matter was, how admirable his choice 
 of words, is singularly attested by the fact — I state it 
 on Marsh's authority — that there are not more than a 
 hundred French words used by him, such for example 
 as ' misericorde/ ' malure ' (malheur), ' penible,' ' ayel ' 
 (aieul), ' tas,' 'meubles,' ' hautain,' ' cierge,' 'gipon,^ 
 ' racine,' which have failed to win a permanent place 
 among us. I cannot say how many Piers Ploughman 
 would yield, but we saw just now that it would yield 
 several; and Gower in like manner — such, for example, 
 as ' feblesse,' 'tristesse,' 'mestier,' 'pelerinage.' Wiclif 
 would furnish a few, as for instance ' creansur,' ' roue,' 
 ' umbre ; ' though far fewer than either of those other ; 
 
 * Plautus in the same way uses a multitude of Greek words, 
 which Latin did not want, and therefore refused to absorb ; thus, 
 * clepta,' 'zamia,' 'danista,' ' harpagare,' 'apolactizare,' 'naucle- 
 rus,' 'strategus,' 'drapeta,' 'morus,' 'morologus,' 'phylaca,' 
 ' malacus,' ' sycophantia,' ' euscheme ' (eu(Tx^Aia)s), 'dulice' 
 (SouAiKws), [so ' scymnus ' by Lucretius], none of which, I beheve, 
 are employed except by him ; while others, as ' mastigia ' and 
 ' techna, ' he shares with Terence. Yet only experience could 
 show that they were superfluous ; and it was well done to put 
 them on trial. 
 
 H 
 
98 Gains of the English Language, lect. 
 
 for indeed the non- English element in him, which the 
 language has finally refused to take up, consists not 
 so much of French, as of words which, by him drawn 
 directly from his Latin Vulgate, had been never shaped 
 or moulded in their passage through any intermediate 
 language. Of these the necessities, or if not the 
 necessities, yet the difiiculties, of the case drove him 
 to employ not a few, as 'amphor,' ' architryclyn,' ' ar- 
 gentarie,' ' biHbre,' 'cyconye,' ' eruk ' (eruca), 'jument,' 
 ' margarite,' 'proterve,' ' sambuke,' 'scrabroun,' 'signa- 
 cle/ ' simulacre,' ' sindon,' ' spelunc,' ' sudarie,' ' tymi- 
 ame,' ' vinolent,' ' volatil ' ( = bird), and others ; 
 which one and all have wholly refused to take root. ^ 
 It is curious to observe to how late a day some of 
 those adoptions from the French kept their ground ; 
 which, for all this, they have proved unable to keep 
 to the end. Thus ' mel ' (Sylvester) struggled hard 
 and long for a place side by side with honey ; ' roy ' 
 with king ; this last quite obtaining one in the north- 
 ern dialect, or as we call it, the Scotch. It has fared 
 not otherwise with 'orgule' (Sir T. Malory) ; ' ouvert, 
 ' mot,' ' baine,' ' mur,' ' ecurie,' ' sacre,' ' baston, 
 '■ scantillon,' ^ sififling,' ' livraison,' ' pourprise,' ' gite, 
 •to cass,' 'dulce,' 'aigredulce'='soursweet' (all in 
 Holland) ; with ' rivage,' ' jouissance,' 'noblesse, 
 ' tort,' ' accoil ' (accueillir), ' sell ' ( = saddle), ' conge, 
 ' surquedry,' * foy,' ' duresse,' ' spalles ' (epaules) 
 ' gree ' (gre), all occurring in Spenser ; with '■ outrecui- 
 dance ; ' with 'to serr' (serrer), 'vive,' 'brocage, 
 ' reglement,' used all by Bacon \ with ' esperance, 
 
 ' Eadie, The English Bible, vol. i. p. 74. 
 
III. French Words once in English. 99 
 
 ' orgulous ' (orgueilleux), ' rondeur,' ' scrimer,' ' amort/ 
 ' egal,' 'maugre/ ' sans ' (all in Shakespeare). ' Devoir,' 
 ' dimes,' ' puissance,' ' bruit ' (this last used often in our 
 Bible), ^ clinquant' (Clarendon), which is not jingling, 
 as Richardson has it, but glistering, were English 
 once ; they are not so any longer. The same holds 
 true of ' volupty ' (Sir Thomas Eylot), ' volunty ' 
 (Evelyn), 'medisance' (Montagu), 'pucelle' (Ben 
 Jonson), 'petit' (South), ' aveugle,' ' colline ' (both in 
 State Papers) ; so too of ' defailance,' ' plaisance,' 
 ' paysage,' ' pareil ' (all in Jeremy Taylor) ; of the 
 verb ' to eloign' (Hacket), and of others, more than I 
 can here enumerate. 
 
 But to return. With Chaucer English literature had 
 made a burst, which it was not able to maintain. 
 Dreary days were before it still. Our morning star, 
 he yet ushered in no dawn which was at the point of 
 breaking. Chaucer has by Warton been well compared 
 to some warm bright day in the very early spring, 
 which seems to announce that the winter is over and 
 gone ; but its promise is deceitful ; the full bursting 
 and blossoming of the spring-time is yet far off. The 
 long struggle with France, the hundred years' War, 
 which began so gloriously, but which ended so disas- 
 trously, even with the loss of our whole ill-won do- 
 minion there, the savagery of our wars of the Roses, 
 wars which were a legacy bequeathed to us by that 
 unrighteous conquest, leave a huge gap in our literary 
 history, nearly a century during which very little was 
 done for the cultivation of our native tongue, few im- 
 portant additions to its wealth were made. 
 
 The period, however, is notable as that during 
 which for the first time we received a large accession 
 
 H 2 
 
lOO Gains of the English Langitage. Lect. 
 
 of words directly drawn from the Latin. A small 
 settlement of these, for the most part ecclesiastical, 
 had long since found their home in the bosom of the 
 Anglo-Saxon itself, and had been entirely incorporated 
 with it. The fact that we had received our Christi- 
 anity from Rome, and that Latin was the constant 
 language of the Church, sufficiently accounts for these. 
 Such were ' monk,' ' bishop ' (it was not as Greek but 
 as Latin that these words reached us), 'priest,' 
 ' provost,' ' minster,' ' cloister,' ' candle,' ' devil,' 
 'psalter,' 'mass,' and the names of certain foreign 
 animals, as ' camel,' ' lion,' or plants or other produc- 
 tions, as ' lily,' ' pepper,' ' fig ; ' which are all, with 
 slightly different spelling, words whose naturalization 
 in England reaches back to a period anterior to the 
 Conquest.^ These, however, were exceptional, and 
 stood to the main body of the language, not as the 
 Romance element of it does now to the Teutonic, one 
 power over against another, but as the Spanish or 
 Italian or Arabic words in it stand to the remainder 
 of the language, and could not be affirmed to affect it 
 more. 
 
 So soon, however, as French words were brought 
 largely into it, and were found to coalesce kindly with 
 the native growths, this very speedily suggested the 
 going straight to the Latin, and drawing directly from 
 it ; and thus in the hundred years after Chaucer no 
 small amount of Latin had penetrated, if not into our 
 speech, yet into our books — words not introduced 
 through the French, for they are not, and some of 
 
 ' Guest, Hist, of English Rhythms, vol. ii. p. 109 ; Koch, 
 Hist. Granun. der Engl. Sjrache, vol. i. p. 5. 
 
III. Latin Words in Enzdsh. loi 
 
 them have at no thiie been, French ; but yet such as 
 would never have estabhshed themselves here, if the 
 French, already domesticated among us, had not pre- 
 pared their way, bridged over the gulf that would have 
 otherwise been too wide between them and the Saxon 
 vocables of our tongue ; and suggested the models on 
 which these later adoptions should be framed. 
 
 They were not for the most part words which it was 
 any gain to acquire. The period was one of great 
 depression of the national spirit ; and nothing sym- 
 pathizes more intimately with this, rising when it rises, 
 and sinking when it sinks, than does language. Not 
 first at the revival of learning, but already at this time 
 began the attempt to flood our English with pedantic 
 words from the Latin. Take as specimens of these 
 ' facundious,' ' tenebrous,' ' solacious,' ' pulcritude,' 
 ' consuetude ' (all these occur in Hawes), with a mul- 
 titude more of the same fashion which the language 
 has long since disallowed ; while others which have 
 maintained their ground, and have deserved to main- 
 tain it, were yet employed in numbers quite out of 
 proportion to the native vocables with which they were 
 mingled, and which they altogether overtopped and 
 overshadowed. Chaucer's hearty English feeling, his 
 thorough sympathy with the people, the fact that, 
 scholar as he was, he was yet the poet not of books 
 but of hfe, and drew his best inspiration from life, all 
 this had kept him, in the main, clear of this fault. But 
 it was otherwise with those who followed. The diction 
 of Lydgate, Hawes, and the other versifiers, — for to 
 the title of poets they have little or no claim, — who 
 filled up the interval between Chaucer and Surrey, is 
 immensely inferior to his ; being all stuck over with 
 
102 Gains of the English LangiLage. Lect. 
 
 long and often ill-selected Latin words. The worst 
 offenders in this Hne, as Campbell himself admits, were 
 the Scotch poets of the fifteenth century. ' The 
 prevailing fault,' he says, ' of English diction, in the 
 fifteenth century, is redundant ornament, and an af- 
 fectation of anglicising Latin words. In this pedantry 
 and use of " aureate terms " the Scottish versifiers 
 
 went even beyond their brethren of the south 
 
 When they meant to be eloquent, they tore up words 
 from the Latin, which never took root in the language, 
 like children making a mock garden with flowers and 
 branches stuck in the ground, which speedily wither.' ^ 
 It needs but to turn over a few pages of the Scotch 
 poetry of the fifteenth and sixteenth century to find 
 proofs abundant of this \ although happily very few of 
 theseforeign adoptions remained as permanent elements 
 of the language. Thus I do not remember to have 
 met ' to offusk,' ' to resplend,' ' agrest,' ' amene,' ' fa- 
 cund,' ' lascive,' ' mansuete,' ' preclair,' ' venust ' in 
 any English writer ; all which, with many more of like 
 kind, may be found in Sibbald's Glossary^ or Murray's 
 Dialect of the Southei'7i Counties of Scotland^ pp. 58, 60. 
 This tendency to latinize our speech received a new 
 impulse from the revival of learning, and the familiar 
 re-acquaintance with the master-pieces of ancient 
 literature which went along with this revival. Happily 
 another movement followed hard on this ; a movement 
 in England essentially national : and one which stirred 
 our people at far deeper depths of their moral and 
 spiritual life than any mere revival of learning could 
 have ever done ; I refer, of course, to the Reformation. 
 
 Essay on English Poetry, p. 93. 
 
in. I7ifltcence of the Reformation. 103 
 
 It was only among the Germanic nations of Europe, 
 as has often been remarked, that the Reformation 
 struck lasting roots ; it found its strength therefore in 
 the Teutonic element of the national character, which 
 also it in turn further strengthened, purified, and called 
 out. And thus, though Latin came in upon us now 
 faster than ever, and to a certain extent also Greek, 
 yet this found redress and counterpoise in the con- 
 temporaneous unfolding of the more radically popular 
 side of the language. Popular preaching and discus- 
 sion, the necessity of dealing with truths the most 
 transcendant in a way to be understood not by scholars 
 only, but by ' idiots ' as well, all this served to evoke 
 the native resources of our tongue ; and thus the 
 relative proportion between the one part of the lan- 
 guage and the other was not dangerously disturbed, 
 the balance was not destroyed ; as it might easily have 
 been, if only the Humanists had been at work, and 
 not the Reformers as well. 
 
 The revival of learning, which made itself first felt 
 in Italy, extended to England, and was operative here, 
 during the reigns of Henry the Eighth and his imme- 
 diate successors. Having thus slightly anticipated in 
 time, it afterwards ran exactly parallel with, the period 
 during which our Reformation was working itself out. 
 The epoch was in all respects one of immense mental 
 and moral activity, and such epochs never leave a 
 language where they found it. Much in it is changed ; 
 much probably added ; for the old garment of speech, 
 which once served all needs, has grown too narrow, 
 and will serve them now no more. The old crust is 
 broken up, and what was obscurely working before 
 forces itself into sight and recognition. ' Change in 
 
T04 Gains of the English Language, lect. 
 
 language is not, as in many natural products, contin- 
 uous ; it is not equable, but eminently by fits and 
 starts ; ' and when the foundations of the mind of a 
 nation are heaving under the operation of ideas which 
 it is now for the first time making its own, more 
 important changes will follow in fifty years than in 
 two centuries of calmer or more stagnant existence. 
 Thus the activities and energies which the Reforma- 
 tion awakened among us, as they made themselves 
 felt far beyond the domain of our directly religious life, 
 so they did not fail to make themselves effectually 
 felt in this region of language among the rest.^ 
 
 The Reformation indeed had a scholarly, we might 
 
 ^ Some lines of Waller reveal to us the sense which in his 
 time scholars had of the rapidity with which the language was 
 changing under their hands. Looking back at changes which 
 the last hundred years had wrought in it, he checked with mis- 
 givings such as these his own hope of immortality : 
 
 ' Who can hope his lines should long 
 Last in a daily changing tongue ? 
 While they are new, envy prevails, 
 And as that dies, our language fails. 
 
 ' Poets that lasting marble seek, 
 Must carve in Latin or in Greek : 
 We write in sand ; our language grows, 
 And like the tide our work o'erflows.' 
 
 How his misgivings, which assume that the rate of change would 
 continue what it had been, have been fulfilled, every one knows. 
 The two centuries which have elapsed since he wrote, have 
 hardly antiquated a word or a phrase in his poems. If we 
 care very little for them now, this is owing to quite other 
 causes — to their want of moral earnestness more than to any 
 other. * 
 
III. New Words in English. 105 
 
 say a scholastic, as well as a popular aspect. Add 
 this fact to that of the revived interest in classical 
 learning and you will not wonder that a stream of 
 Latin, now larger than ever, began to flow into our 
 language. Thus Puttenham, writing in Queen Eliza- 
 beth's reign, ^ gives a long list of words, some Greek, 
 a few French and Italian, but far the most Latin, which, 
 as he affirms, were of quite recent introduction into the 
 language. He may be here and there mistaken about 
 some single word, but what he asserts in the main is 
 correct. And yet some of these it is difficult to under- 
 stand how the language could so long have done 
 without ; as ' compendious,' ' delineation,' ' dimension,' 
 ' figurative,' ' function,' ' idiom,' ' impression,' ' indig- 
 nity,' ' inveigle,' ' method,' ' methodical,' ' metrical,' 
 ' numerous,' 'penetrable,' ' penetrate,' 'prolix,' 'savage,' 
 ' scientific,' ' significative.' All these he adduces with 
 praise. Others, not less commended by him, have 
 failed to hold their ground, as ' harmonical,' ' numer- 
 osity,' ' placation.' In his disallowance of ' attemptat ' 
 (attentat), ' facundity,' ' implete,' he only anticipated 
 the verdict of a later day. Other words which he 
 condemned no less, as ' audacious,' ' compatible,' 
 ' egregious,' have maintained their ground. These 
 have done the same : ' despicable,' ' destruction,' 
 ' homicide,' ' obsequious,' ' ponderous,' ' portentous,' 
 ' prodigious ;' all of them by a somewhat earlier writer, 
 in a book of date 1577, condemned as ' inkhorn terms, 
 smelling too much of the Latin.' 
 
 ' In his Art of English Poesy, London, 1589, republished in 
 Haslewood's Ancient Critical Essays npon English Poets and 
 Poesy, London, 181 1, vol. i. pp. 122, 123. 
 
io6 Gains of the English Langicage. lect. 
 
 It is curious to note the ' words of art/ as he calls 
 them, which Philemon Holland, a voluminous transla- 
 tor at the end of the sixteenth and beginning of the 
 seventeenth century, counts it needful to explain in 
 a glossary appended to his translation of Pliny's 
 Natiwal History} One can hardly understand how 
 any who cared to consult the book at all would be 
 perplexed by words like these : ' acrimony,' ' austere,' 
 'bulb,' 'consolidate,' 'debility,' 'dose,' 'ingredient,' 
 ' opiate,' ' propitious,' ' symptom,' all of which as 
 novelties he carefully explains. Certainly he has 
 won is in his glossary harder and more technical than 
 these, but avast majority present no more serious diffi- 
 culty than those just adduced.- The Rhemish Bible, 
 
 ' London, i6oi. Besides this work Philemon Holland 
 translated the whole of Plutarch's Moralia, the -Cyropcvdia of 
 Xenophon, Livy, Suetonius, Ammianus Marcellinus, and Cam- 
 den's Britannia. Fuller, who has a brief notice of him among 
 the Worthies of Warwickshire, calls him ' Translator General of 
 his age.' His works make a part of the ' library of dulness' in 
 Pope's Dunciad: 
 
 ' De Lyra there a dreadful front extends, 
 And here the groaning shelves Philejnon bends ' — 
 
 but very unjustly ; and Southey shows a far juster estimate of 
 his merits, when he finds room for two of these, Plutarch's 
 Moralia and Pliny's Natural History, in the select library of 
 The Doctor. The works which Holland has translated are all 
 more or less important, and his versions of them a mine of 
 genuine idiomatic English, neglected by most of our lexico- 
 gi'aphers, wrought with eminent advantage by Richardson ; but 
 capable of )delding much more than thus far they have yielded. 
 ^ So too in French it is surprising to find how new are many 
 words, which now constitute an integral part of the language. 
 * Desinteressement,' 'exactitude,' 'sagacite,' 'bravcure,' were 
 
III. New Words in French. 107 
 
 published in 1582, has a table consisting of fifty- five 
 terms ' not familiar to the vulgar reader ; ' among which 
 are ' acquisition,' ' advent,' ' allegory,' ' co operate,' 
 'evangelize,' 'eunuch,' 'holocaust.' 'neophyte,' 're- 
 suscitate,' ' victim.' More than one of these was 
 denounced by the assailants of this Version, as for 
 
 not introduced till late in the seventeenth century. ' Renais- 
 sance,' ' emportement,' ' s9avoir-faire,' ' indelebile,' 'desagre- 
 ment,' were all recent in 1675 (Bouhours) ; 'inaevot,' 'intole- 
 rance,' 'impardonnable,' 'irreligieux,' were struggling into allow- 
 ance at the end of the seventeenth century, and not established 
 till the beginning of the eighteenth. ' Insidieux ' was invented 
 by Malherbe ; ' frivolite ' is wanting in the earlier editions of 
 the Dictionary of the Academy ; the Abbe de St. -Pierre was the 
 first to employ ' bienfaisance,' the elder Balzac ' feliciter,' Sar- 
 rasin 'burlesque,' Rousseau 'investigation '(see Guesses at Truth, 
 1866, p. 220), the Abbe de Pons 'erudit.' Mme. de Sevigne 
 exclaims against her daughter for employing ' effervescence ' 
 (comment dites-vous cela, ma fil'e? Voila un mot dont je 
 n' avals jamais oui parler). 'Demagogue ' was first hazarded by 
 Bossuet, and counted so bold a novelty that for long none ven- 
 tured to follow him in its use. Montaigne introduced 'diversion' 
 and ' eufantillage,' the last not without rebuke from contempo- 
 raries. It is a singularly characteristic fact, if he invented, as 
 he is said to have done, 'enjoue.' Desfontaines first employed 
 * suicide ; ' Caron gave to the language 'avantpropos,' Ronsard 
 ' avidite,' Joachim Dubellay ' patrie,' Denis Sauvage ' juriscon- 
 sulte,' Menage ' gracieux ' (at least so Voltaire affirms), and 
 'prosateur,' Desportes 'pudeur,' Chapelain 'urbanite,' Mme. 
 Dacier 'hospitaller,' and Etienne first brought in, apologizing 
 at the same time for the boldness of it, ' analogic ' (si les oreilles 
 fran9oises peuvent porter ce mot). ' Accaparer ' first appeared 
 in the Dictionary of the Academy vci 1787 ; 'preliber' (praelibare) 
 is a word of our own day ; and Charles Nodier, if he did not 
 coin, yet revived the obsolete 'simplesse.' — See Genin, Varia- 
 tions du Langage Frati^ais, pp. 308-319. 
 
io8 Gains of the English Language, lect. 
 
 instance by our own Translators, who say in their 
 Preface^ 'We have shunned the obscurity of the 
 Papists in the azims, tunicke, rational, holocausts, 
 prepuce, pasche, and a number of such-like, whereof 
 their late translation is full.' It is curious that three 
 out of the six which they thus denounce should have 
 kept their place in the language. 
 
 The period during which this naturalization of 
 Latin words was going actively forward, extended to 
 the Restoration of Charles the Second, and beyond it. 
 It first received a check from the coming up of French 
 tastes, fashions, and habits of thought consequent on 
 that event. The writers whose style was already 
 formed, such as Cudworth and Barrow, continued still 
 to write their stately sentences, Latin in structure, and 
 Latin in diction, but not so those of a younger gene- 
 ration. We may say of this influx of Latin that it left 
 the language vastly more copious, with greatly enlarged 
 capabilities, but somewhat burdened with its new 
 acquisitions, and not always able to move gracefully 
 under their weight ; for, as Dryden has happily said, it 
 is easy enough to acquire foreign words, but to know 
 what to do with them after you have acquired, is the 
 difficulty. 
 
 Few, let me here observe by the way, have borne 
 themselves in this hazardous enterprise at once as 
 discreetly and as boldly as Dryden himself has done ; 
 who has thus admirably laid down the motives which 
 induced him to look abroad for words with which to 
 enrich his vocabulary, and the principles which guided 
 him in the selection of such : ' If sounding words 
 are not of our growth and manufacture, who shall 
 hinder me to import them from a foreign country ? I 
 
III. D7yden on Neologies. 109 
 
 carry not out the treasure of the nation which is never 
 to return, but what I bring from Italy I spend in 
 England. Here it remains and here it circulates, for, 
 if the coin be good, it will pass from one hand to 
 another. I trade both with the living and the dead, 
 for the enrichment of our native language. We have 
 enough in England to supply our necessity, but if we 
 will have things of magnificence and splendour, we 
 must get them by commerce. Poetry requires adorn- 
 ment, and that is not to be had from our old Teuton 
 monosyllables ; therefore if I find any elegant word 
 in a classic author, I propose it to be naturalized 
 by using it myself ; and if the public approves of it, 
 the bill passes. But every man cannot distinguish 
 betwixt pedantry and poetry : every man therefore is 
 not fit to innovate. Upon the whole matter a poet 
 must first be certain that the word he would introduce 
 is beautiful in the Latin ; and is to consider in the next 
 place whether it will agree with the English idiom : 
 after this, he ought to take the opinion of judicious 
 friends, such as are learned in both languages ; and 
 lastly, since no man is infallible, let him use this 
 licence very sparingly ; for if too many foreign words 
 are poured in upon us, it looks as if they were 
 designed not to assist the natives, but to conquer 
 them.' ^ 
 
 It would indeed have fared ill with the language, if 
 all the words which the great writers of this second 
 
 ^ Dedication of the Translation of the ALneid. I cannot say- 
 that I have observed very many of these words there. ' Irre- 
 meable' (y^n. vi. 575) is the only one which I could at once 
 adduce. 
 
I lo Gains of the English Language. Lect. 
 
 Latin period proposed as candidates for admission 
 into it, had received the stamp of popular allowance. 
 But happily this was not the case. The re-active 
 energy of the language, enabling it to throw off that 
 which was foreign to it, did not fail to display itself 
 now, as it had done on former occasions ; nor is it 
 too much to affirm that in almost every instance, 
 during this period, where the Alien Act was enforced, 
 the sentence of banishment was a just one. Either 
 the word violated the analogy of the language, or was 
 not intelligible, or was not needed, or looked ill, or 
 sounded ill ; or some other valid reason existed for 
 its exclusion. A lover of his native tongue might well 
 tremble to think what this tongue would have become, 
 if all the innumerable vocables introduced or en- 
 dorsed by illustrious names, had been admitted to a 
 free course among us on the strength of their recom- 
 mendation : if ' torve ' and ' tetric ' (Fuller), * cecity' 
 (Hooker), 'fastide' and 'trutinate' {State Papers')^ 
 'immanity' (Shakespeare), 'insulse' and 'insulsity' 
 (Milton, prose), ' scelestick' (Feltham.), ' splendidious ' 
 (Drayton), 'pervicacy' (Baxter), 'stramineous,' 'arde- 
 lion' (Burton), Mepid,' 'sufflaminate' (Barrow), 'faci- 
 norous' (Donne), ' immorigerous,' ' funest,' ' clancu- 
 lar,' ' ferity,' ' ustulation,' ' stultiloquy,' ' lipothymy ' 
 (XeLTTodviJiiu), ' hyperaspist,' ' deturpate,' ' intenerate,' 
 ' effigiate ' (all in Jeremy Taylor) ; if ' mulierosity,' 
 ' subsannation,' ' coaxation,' ' ludibundness,' ' delini- 
 tion,' ' illaqueation,' ' coUuctation,' ' sanguinolejicyj,' 
 ' septemfluous,' ' medioxumous,' ' mirificent,' ' pah_n.i: 
 ferous^' (all in Henry More), ' pauciloquy,' ' multiloquy ' 
 (Beaumont, PsycJie) ; if ' dyscolous ' (Foxe), ' ataraxy ' 
 (Allestree), ' mohminously ' (Cudworth), ' luciferously,' 
 
III. Naturalization of Words. 1 1 1 
 
 ' meticulous/_ ' lapidifical/ 'exenteration,' ' farraginous ' 
 (SiFThomas Browne), ' immarcescible '(Bishop Hall), 
 ' exility,' ' spinosity,' ' incolumity,' ' solertiousness,' 
 ' lucripetous,' ' inopious,' ' eximious,' ' eluctate ' (all in 
 Hacket), ' arride ' (ridiculed by Ben Jonson), with 
 hundreds of other births, as monstrous or more 
 monstrous than are some of these, had not been re- 
 jected and disallowed by the sound linguistic instincts 
 of the national mind. 
 
 Many words too zvere actually adopted, but not 
 precisely as they had been first introduced among us. 
 They were compelled to drop their foreign termina- 
 tion, or whatever else indicated them as strangers, to 
 conform themselves to EngUsh ways, and only thus 
 were finally incorporated into the great family of Eng- 
 lish. ^ Thus of Greek words take the following : 
 ' pyramis ' and ' pyramides,' forms often employed by 
 Shakespeare ('pyramises ' in Jeremy Taylor), became 
 ' pyramid ' and ' pyramids ; ' ' dosis ' (Bacon) ' dose ; ' 
 ' aspis ' (Latimer) ' asp ; ' ' distichon,' ' distich ' (Hol- 
 land), ' aristocratia ' and ' democratia ' (North) ' aristo- 
 cracy ' and ' democracy ; ' ' ochlocratia ' (Grimeston's 
 Polybius) ' ochlocracy ; ' ' hemistichion ' (North) 
 ' hemistich ; ' ' apogaeon ' (Fairfax), or ' apogeum ' 
 (Browne), 'apogee;' ' sumphonia ' (Lodge) 'sym- 
 phony ; ' ' myrrha ' (Golding) ' myrrh ; ' ' prototypon ' 
 (Jackson) ' prototype ; ' ' synonymon ' (Jeremy Taylor) 
 or ' synonymum' (Hacket), and ' synonyma ' (Milton, 
 
 ' J. Grimm (IVorL'f 'due /i, p. xxvi.): Fallt von ungefahr ein 
 fremdes Wort in den Brunnen einer Sprache, so wird es so lan^e 
 darin umgetrieben, bis es ihre Farbe annimmt, und seiner frem- 
 den Art zum Trotze wie ein Heimisches aussieht. 
 
1 1 2 Gains of the English Language, lect. 
 
 prose), became severally ' synonym ' and ' synonyms ; ^ 
 'parallelon' (North) 'parallel.' So too 'syntaxis' 
 (Fuller) became ' syntax ; ' ' extasis ' (Burton) 'ecstasy; ' 
 ' parallelogrammon ' (Holland) ' parallelogram ;"hypo- 
 tenusa' (the same) ' hypotenuse ; ' ' programma ' (War- 
 ton) ' program ; ' ' epitheton ' (Cowell) ' epithet ; ' 
 ' epocha ' (South) and ' epoche ' ' epoch ; ' ' magnes ' 
 (Sir P. Sidney) ' magnet ; ' ' disenteria ' and ' epilepsis ' 
 (both in Sylvester) ' dysentery ' and ' epilepsy ; ' ' bio- 
 graphia' (Dryden) 'biography;' ' apostata ' (Mas- 
 singer) ' apostate ; ' ' despota ' (Foxe) ' despot ; ' ' mis- 
 anthropes ' (Shakespeare, compare ' misanthropi,' 
 Bacon) ' misanthrope ; ' ' psalterion ' (North) ' psal- 
 tery ; ' ' idylion ' (Spenser), or ' idyllium ' (Dryden), 
 ' idyl ; ' ' ostracismos ' (North) ' ostracism ; ' £i/>-/jA?/^to-^oc 
 (Jeremy Taylor) ' euphemism ; ' ' chasma ' (Henry 
 More) 'chasm;' 'autopsia' (the same) 'autopsy;' 
 'idioma' and ' prosodia ' (both in Daniel, prose) 
 ' idiom ' and 'i:)rosody ; ' ' energia ' (Sidney) ' energy; ' 
 'Sibylla' (Bacon) 'Sybil;' ' zoophyton ' (Henry 
 More) ' zoophyte ; ' ' enthousiasmos ' (Sylvester) ' en- 
 thusiasm ; ' ' phantasma ' (Shakespeare) ' phantasm ; ' 
 ' paraphrasis ' (Ascham) ' paraphrase ; ' ' cynosura ' 
 (Donne) 'cynosure;' 'galaxias' (Foxe) 'galaxy;' 
 ' heros' (Henry More) ' hero.' 
 
 The same process has gone on in a multitude of 
 Latin words, which testify by their terminations that 
 they were, and were felt to be, Latin at their first em- 
 ployment ; though now they are such no longer. It 
 will be seen that in this list I include Greek words 
 which came to us through the medium of the Latin, 
 and bearing a Latin termination. Thus Bacon has ' in- 
 secta ' for ' insects ; ' ' sequinoctia ' for ' equinoxes ; ' 
 
III. Nahcralization of Words. 1 1 
 
 J 
 
 '■ chylus ' for ' chyle ; ' Elyot ' intellectus ' for ' intel- 
 lect ; ' Coverdale ' tetrarcha ' for ' tetrarch ; ' Latimer 
 ' basilisciis ' for ' basilisk ; ' Frith ' syllogismus ' for 
 ' syllogism ; ^ Bishop Andrewes ' nardus ' for ' nard ; ' 
 Milton ' asphaltus ' for ' asphalt/ ' amaranthus ' for 
 ' amaranth ; ' Clarendon ' classis ' for ^ class ; ' Spenser 
 ' zephyrus ' for ' zephyr.' So too ' epitaphium ' (Trevisa) 
 preceded ' epitaph ; ' ' interstitium ' (Fuller) ' inter- 
 stice ; ' ' philtrum ' (Culverwell) ' philtre ; ' ' depositum ' 
 (Howe) ' deposit ; ' ' praedicatum ' ' predicate \ ' ' siib- 
 jectum ' 'subject' (both in North); ' mandatu.m ' 
 (Holinshed) ' mandate ; ' ' hexametrum ' (Ascham) 
 ' hexameter ; ' ' expansum ' (Jeremy Taylor) ' ex-, 
 panse ; ' ' vestigium ' (Culverwell) ' vestige ; ' ' prelu- 
 dium ' (Beaumont, Psyche) ' prelude ; ' ' precipitium, 
 (Coryat) ' precipice ; ' '' aconitum ' and ' balsamum 
 (both in Shakespeare) ' aconite ' and ' balsam ; 
 ' heliotropium ' (Holland) ' heliotrope ; ' ' helleborum 
 (North) 'hellebore j' ' vehiculum' (Howe) 'vehicle ; 
 ' trochaeus ' and ' spondseus ' (Holland) ' trochee ' and 
 ' spondee ; ' ' dactylus ' (Ascham) ' dactyle ; ' ' tro- 
 phaeum ' (Holland) ' trophy ; ' ' transitus ' (Howe) 
 'transit;' and ' machina ' (Henry More) ' machine.' 
 We meet ' intervallum ' in Shakespeare, and ' inter- 
 valla 'in Chillingworth ; ' postulata,' not 'postulates,' 
 in Swift; 'archiva,' not ' archives,' in Baxter; ' post- 
 scripta,' not ' postscripts,' in State Papers ; ' atomi,' 
 not ' atoms,' in Lord Brooke ; ' adulti,' not ' adults,' 
 in Rogers ; ' plebeii,' not ' plebeians,' in Shakespeare ; 
 ' catechumeni,' not ' catechumens,' in Jewel ; ' helotae,' 
 not ' helots,' in Holland ; ' triumviri,' not ' triumvirs,' 
 and ' ephori,' not * ephors,' in North ; ' demagogi,' not 
 ' demagogues,' in Hacket ; ' elegi,' not ' elegies,' 
 
 I 
 
1 14 Gains of the English Language, lect, 
 
 ' rhythmi/ not ' rhythms,' ' pigmaei/ not ' pigmies/ all in 
 Holland ; ' pantomimus ' in Lord Bacon and Ben 
 Jonson for ' pantomime ; ' ' mystagogus ' for ' mysta- 
 gogue/ in Jackson and Henry More. In like manner, 
 ' eedilis ' (North) went before ' edile ; ' ' obeliscus ' (the 
 same) before ' obelisk ; ' ' effigies ' and ' statua ' (both 
 in Shakespeare) before ' effigy ' and ' statue ; ' ' abyssus ' 
 (Jackson) before ' abyss ; ' ' commentarius ' (Chapman) 
 before ' commentary ; ' ' commentum ' (Henry More) 
 before ' comment ; ' ' vestibulum ' (Howe) before ' ves- 
 tibule ; ' ' symbolum ' (Hammond) before * symbol ; ' 
 'spectrum' (Burton) before 'spectre;' while only 
 after a while ' qu^re ' gave place to ' query ; ' ' audite ' 
 (Hacket) to 'audit;' 'plaudite' (Henry More) to 
 ' plaudit ; ' ' remanent ' {Fasten Letters) to ' remnant ; ' 
 and the Low Latin 'mummia' (Webster) became 
 'mummy.' The change of ' innocency,' ' indolency,' 
 ' temperancy/ and the large family of words with the 
 same termination, into ' innocence,' ' indolence,' ' tem- 
 perance,' and the like, is another example of the same 
 process of completed naturalization. 
 
 Nor is it unprofitable to note how slowly the 
 names of persons, things, and countries, drop their 
 Greek or Latin, and assume an English form, as little 
 by little our literature familiarizes itself with the old 
 Greek and Roman world. Aristotle indeed had 
 so lived through the Middle Ages that we nowhere 
 find his name in any but this popular shape ; but 
 Ascham speaks of ' Hesiodus,' Holland of ' Euclides,' 
 Bacon of ' Sallustius,' of ' Appianus,' of ' Livius,' 
 Baxter of ' Plinius,' Milton of ' Pindarus,' and this 
 both in prose and verse ; Coverdale of ' Hilarius ' and 
 ' Cyprianus ; ' Jewel of certain philosophers called 
 
III. N at nasalization of Words. 1 1 5 
 
 ' Epicursei,' of 'Julianus Apostata/ When Christopher 
 Brooke wrote, the ' Argonauts ^ were ' Argonautae ' 
 still. We read in Chapman of the ' Ajaces/ m 
 Spenser of the '■ Ilias ' and ' Odysseis,' and in Dryden, 
 though not invariably, of the ' ^neis.' It is the same 
 with places and countries. North writes ' the moun- 
 tains Pyrenei,' ' Creta,' ' Antiochia,' ' Troia,' ' Acade- 
 mia,^ ' Syracusse,' ' Hellespontus,' ' the sea Atlanticum,' 
 ' the sea Euxinum ; ' Ascham ' Sicilia ; ' Bacon 
 ' Thracia ; ' Milton ' Danubius ; ' Coverdale ' Nilus ; ' 
 Holland ' Tiberis ; ' while our English Bible has 
 " Palestina,' ^ Grecia,' and ' Tyrus.' 
 
 The plural very often tells the secret of the foreign 
 light in which a word is still regarded, where the sin- 
 gular, being less capable of modification, would have 
 failed to do this. Thus when Holland writes 'ar- 
 chontes,' ' bisontes,' ' chori,' ' ibides,^ ' ideae,' ' musaea,' 
 ' phalanges,' ' sphinges,' it is clear that 'archon,' ' bison,' 
 ' chorus,' ' ibis,' ' idea,' ^ museum,' ' phalanx,' ' sphinx,' 
 had in no sense become English for him. So too 
 ' rhinoceros ' was Greek for Purchas, writing as he 
 does ' rhinocerotes ' in the plural ; ' dogma ' for Ham- 
 mond, and ' enigma ' for John Smith of Cambridge, 
 when they made ' dogmata' and 'enigmata' severally 
 the plurals of these. Spenser, using ' heroes ' as a tri- 
 syllable,^ plainly implies that it is not yet thoroughly 
 English for him ; indeed, as we have just seen, the 
 singular was ' heros ' half a century later. ' Cento ' 
 is no English word, but a Latin one used in English, 
 so long as the plural is not ' centos,' but ' centones,' 
 
 * ' And old hei'o'es, which their world did daunt.' 
 
 Sotuiet on Scanderbeg. 
 
 I 2 
 
1 16 Gains of the English Language, lect. 
 
 as in the old anonymous translation of Augustine's 
 City of God ; ' specimen ' in like manner is Latin, so 
 long as it owns the plural 'specimina' (Howe); so 
 too ' asylum/ so long as its plural is ' asyla,' as in 
 Clarendon, and indeed as late as in Milman, it is. 
 Pope employing ' satellites ' as a quadrisyllable — 
 
 * Why Jove's satellites are less than Jove ' — - 
 
 intimates that it is still Latin for him ; just as * ter- 
 minus,' which the necessities of railways have intro- 
 duced among us, will not be truly naturalized till it 
 has ' terminuses,' and not ' termini,' for a plural ; 
 nor 'phenomenon,' till we have renounced 'pheno- 
 mena ; ' nor ' crisis,' while it makes ' crises ; ' nor 
 ' fungus,' until the question is determined whether 
 its plural is ' fungi ' or ' funguses,' and in favour of 
 the latter. Sometimes both plurals have been re- 
 tained, with only the assignment of different meanings 
 to them, as in the case of ' indices ' and ' indexes,' 
 of ' genii ' and ' geniuses,' of ' stamina ' and ' stamens ' 
 (botanical). 
 
 The same process has gone on with words from 
 other languages, as from the Italian and the Spanish ; 
 thus ' bandetto ' (Shakespeare), or ' bandito ' (Jeremy 
 Taylor), becomes ' bandit ; ' ' porcellana ' (Fuller) be- 
 comes ' porcelain ; ' ' rufiiano ' (Coryat) ' ruffian ; ' 
 ' concerto ' ' concert ; ' ' busto ' (Lord Chesterfield) 
 ' bust ; ' ' caricatura ' (the same) ' caricature ; ' ' prin- 
 cessa ' (Hacket) ' princess ; ' scaramucha ' (Dryden) 
 'scaramouch; ' ' pedante ' (Bacon) ' pedant ; ' ' pedan- 
 teria ' (Sidney) 'pedantry;' 'mascarata' (Hacket) 
 ' masquerade ; ' ' impresa ' ' impress ; ' ' caprichio ' 
 (Shakespeare) becomes first ' caprich ' (Butler), then 
 
in. Nahiralization of Words. 117 
 
 ' caprice ; ' ' duello ' (Shakespeare) ' duel ; ' ' alligarta ' 
 (Ben Jonson) ' alligator ; ' ' parroquito ' (Webster) 
 'parroquet.' Not otherwise 'scalada' (Heylin) or 
 ' escalado ^ (Holland) becomes ' escalade ; ' ' granada ' 
 (Hacket) ' grenade ; ' ' parada ' (Jeremy Taylor) ' pa- 
 rade;' 'emboscado' (Holland) 'stoccado/ 'barricado.' 
 ' renegado,' ' hurricano ' (all in Shakespeare), ' brocado ' 
 (Hackluyt), ' palissado ' (Howel), these all drop their 
 foreign terminations and severally become 'ambus- 
 cade/ 'stockade/ 'barricade/ 'renegade/ 'hurricane/ 
 ' brocade/ ' palisade ;' ' croisado ' (Bacon) in like man- 
 ner becomes ' crusado ' (Fuller), ' croisade ' (Jortin), 
 and then ' crusade ; ' 'quinaquina ' or ' quinquina,' 'qui- 
 nine.' Other modifications of spelling, not always in 
 the termination, but in the body of a word, will indi- 
 cate its more entire incorporation into the English 
 language. Thus ' shash,' a Turkish word, becomes 
 ' sash ; ' ' tuHppa ' (Bacon) ' tulip ; ' ' quelques choses,' 
 ' kickshaws ; ' restoration was at first spelt ' restaura- 
 tion ; ' and so long as ' vicinage ' was spelt ' voisinage ' ^ 
 (Sanderson), 'mirror ' 'miroir' (Fuller), 'recoil' 'recule,' 
 ' voyage ' ' viage,' and ' career ' ' carriere ' (all by Hol- 
 land), they could scarcely be esteemed the thoroughly 
 English words which now they have become. 
 
 Here and there even at this later period awkward 
 foreign words will have been recast in a more 
 thoroughly English mould ; ' chirurgeon,' used as late 
 as by South, will become ' surgeon ; ' ' hemorrhoid ' 
 ' emerod ;' ' squinancy,' first ' squinzey' (Jeremy Tay- 
 
 ' Skinner i^Etymologicon, 1671) protests against the word 
 altogether, as purely French, and having no right to be con- 
 sidered English at all. 
 
1 18 Gams of the English Language. Lect. 
 
 lor), and then ' quinsey ; ' * porkpisce ' (Spenser) 
 will be ' porpesse/ and then ' porpoise/ as now. Yet 
 the attempt will not always be successful. Physio- 
 gnomy ' will not give place to ' visnomy,' though 
 Spenser and Shakespeare employ this familiar form ; 
 nor ' hippopotamus ' to ' hippodame ' at Spenser's bid- 
 ding ; nor 'avant- courier' to 'vancurrier' at Shake- 
 speare's. Other words also have finally refused to take 
 a more popular shape, although such was current once. 
 Chaucer wrote ' sawter' and ' sawtrie/ but we ' psalter ' 
 and ' psaltery ; ' Holland ' cirque,' revived by Keats, 
 but we ' circus ; ' ' cense,' but we ' census ; ' ' inter- 
 reign,' but we ' interregnum ; ' Sylvester ' cest,' but we 
 ' cestus ; ' ' quirry,' but we ' equerry ; ' ' colosse ' (so 
 also Henry More), but we '■ colossus ; ' Golding ' ure,' 
 but we ' urus ; ' ' metropole,' but we ' metropolis ; '" 
 Dampier 'volcan,'but this has not superseded 'vol- 
 cano;' nor ' pagod ' (Pope) 'pagoda;' nor 'skelet' 
 (Holland) ' skeleton ;' nor ' stimule ' (Stubbs) ' stimu- 
 lus.' Bolingbroke wrote ' exode,' but we hold fast to 
 ' exodus ; ' Burton ' funge,' but we ' fungus ; ' Henry 
 More ' enigm,' but we ' enigma ; ' and ' analyse,' but 
 we 'analysis.' ' Superfice ' (Dryden) has not put 
 'superficies,' nor 'sacrary' (Hacket) 'sacrarium,' nor 
 ' limbeck ' ' alembic,' out of use. Chaucer's ' potecary ' 
 has given place to a more Greek formation, ' apothe- 
 cary ; ' so has 'ancre ' to ' anchorite,' ' auntre ' to ' ad- 
 venture.' You can have hardly failed to notice, on 
 the part of many other English words drawn from the 
 Greek and Latin, a decided inclination to renounce 
 their popular shape and withal their popular spelling, 
 and to revert to their classical outline and form. Thus 
 Chaucer's 'delitable' gave way long ago to 'delect- 
 
III. Assimilation of Words. 1 19 
 
 able,' ' parfaite,' which was in Tyndale's Bible, to 
 ' perfect ; ' ' aulter/ ' detter/ ' sutteltie/ ' vitailles ' (all 
 in Coverdale) to 'altar,' 'debtor,' 'subtlety,' 'victuals;' 
 so ' falchin ' to ' falchion,' ' anker ' to ' anchor.' In 
 most of these cases we may conclude that the word 
 came first orally into the language, and was written as 
 pronounced ; presently however a closer acquaintance 
 with the literature of Greece and Rome brought with 
 it the temptation to bring back the word to a nearer 
 conformity to the shape in which there it was found. 
 But these are exceptions; the set of language is all in 
 the other direction. 
 
 Looking at this process of the reception of foreign 
 words, with their after assimilation in feature to our 
 own, we may trace a certain conformity between the 
 genius of our institutions and that of our language. 
 It is the very character of our institutions to repel 
 none, but rather to afford a shelter and a refuge to all, 
 from whatever quarter they come ; and after a longer 
 or shorter while all the strangers and incomers have 
 been incorporated into the English nation, within one 
 or two generations have forgotten that they were ever 
 extraneous to it, have retained no other reminiscence 
 of their foreign extraction than some slight difference 
 of name, and that often disappearing or having disap- 
 peared. Exactly so has it been with the English lan- 
 guage. No language has shown itself less exclusive ; 
 none has stood less upon niceties ; none has thrown 
 open its doors wider, with a fuller confidence that it 
 could make truly its own, assimilate and subdue to 
 itself, whatever it received into its bosom ; and in no 
 language has this confidence been more fully justified 
 by the result. 
 
I20 Gains of the English Language, lect. 
 
 Such are the two great augmentations from without 
 of our vocabulary. All other are minor and sub- 
 ordinate. Thus the Italian influence has been far 
 more powerful on our literature than on our language. 
 In Chaucer it makes itself very strongly felt on the 
 former/ but soxy slightly upon the latter ; and, as 
 compared with the influence which French exerted, it 
 may be counted as none at all. And this remained 
 very much the condition of things for the whole period 
 during which the star of Italy was in the ascendant 
 here. When we consider how potent its influences 
 were, and how long they lasted, it is only surprising 
 that the deposit of Italian words left in the language 
 has not been larger. There was a time w^hen Italian 
 was far more studied in England, and Italian books 
 far more frequently translated, than they are at this 
 present. Thus Ascham complains of the immense 
 number of wicked Italian books, such as those of that 
 ^poisonous Italian ribald,' Aretine, which were ren- 
 dered into English ; ^ nor can there be any doubt that 
 for a period extending from the reign of Henry the 
 Eighth to the end of that of Elizabeth, it more con- 
 cerned an accomplished courtier and man of the world 
 to be familiar with Italian than with French. 
 
 Almost every page of Spenser bears witness to his 
 intimate acquaintance with Ariosto, and with his own 
 contemporary^, Tasso. His sonnets are 'amoretti.* 
 In the choice of names for persons in his Fairy Qiieen, 
 such as Orgoglio, Archimago, Braggadocchio, Gran- 
 
 ' See Kessner, Chaucer m seinen Beziehrmgen ztir Italicn- 
 ischen Literatiir, Bonn, 1867. 
 
 2 The Schoolmaster., edited by Rev. J. E. Mayor, 1863, p. 82. 
 
III. Italian known in Engla^id. 121 
 
 torto, Malbecco, Fradubio, Gardante, Parlante, Jo- 
 cante, Fidessa, Duessa, Despetto, Decetto, Defetto, 
 Trompart, Speranza, Humilta, he assumes the same 
 familiarity with the language of Italy on the part of 
 his readers. He introduces words purely Italian, as 
 ' basciomani ' (handkissings), ' capuccio ' (hood), or 
 only not ItaHan, because clipped of their final letter, 
 as 'mal talent '(ill will), 'intendiment' (understanding), 
 ' forniment ' (furniture) ; or words formed on Italian 
 models, as ' to aggrate ' (aggratare), and sometimes 
 only intelligible when referred to their Italian source, 
 as 'to affret' (=to encounter), from ' afire ttare,' 'to 
 afirap,' the Italian ' afirappare ; ' or words employed 
 not in our sense, but altogether in an Italian, as ' to 
 revolt^ in that of 'rivoltare' {F. Q. iii. 11, 25). 
 
 Milton in his prose works frequently avouches the 
 peculiar afi"ection to the Italian literature and language 
 which he bore, so that, next to those of Greece and of 
 Rome, he was most addicted to these. And his poetry 
 without any such declarations would itself attest the 
 same. He too calls his poems by Italian names, 
 ^ L' Allegro,' ''II Penseroso' His diction is enriched 
 with Italian words, as ' gonfalon,' ' libecchio,' or with 
 words formed on Italian models, as ' to imparadise,' 
 which beautiful word, however, was not of his 
 invention ; he employs words in their Italian, not their 
 English acceptation ; thus ' to assassinate,' ^ not as to 
 kill, but grievously to maltreat. His adjectival use of 
 ' adorn,' as equivalent to ' adorned,' he must have 
 justified by the Italian ' adorno ; ' so too his employ- 
 
 ' Samson Agonistcs, 1109, 
 
122 Gains of the English Language. Lect. 
 
 ment of ' to force ' in that of ' sforzare/ to vanquish or 
 reduce {S. A. 1096). His orthography, departing from 
 the usual, approximates to the ItaHan ; thus for 
 ' admiral ' he writes ' ammiral ' (ammiraglio), ' haralt ' 
 (araldo) for herald, ' sovran ' (sovrano) for sovereign ; 
 ' desertrice' (prose) where another would have written 
 ' desertress,' with which we may compare ' victrice ' for 
 ' victress ' in Ben Jonson. ' Soldan,' for sultan, he has 
 in common with others who went before him ; so too 
 ' to ^sdeign,' a form no doubt suggested by the Italian 
 ' sdegnare.' 
 
 Jeremy Taylor's acquaintance with Italian, even if 
 it were not asserted in his Fimeral Sermon., with his 
 assumption of the same acquaintance on the part of 
 his readers, is testified by his frequent use of Italian 
 proverbs (see above all in his Holy Living and Dying), 
 and Italian words. He sometimes gives these an 
 English shape, as 'to picqueer' in the sense of to 
 skirmish ; but oftener leaves them in their own. It 
 would be easy to gather out of his writings a con- 
 siderable collection of these ; such as ' amorevolezza,.' 
 ' grandezza,' ' sollevamento,' 'avisamente,' 'miserabili' 
 (in the sense of the French ' miserables '), ' incurabili' 
 (can it be that ' incurables' was in his time wanting in 
 our language?); while, scattered up and down our 
 literature of the first half of the seventeenth century, 
 we meet other Italian words not a few ; as ' farfalla ' 
 ( = butterfly) ; ' amorevolous,' ' mascarata,' ' gratioso ' 
 ( = favourite), 'cimici,' 'bugiard' ( = liar), all in 
 Hacket, ' capocchio ' in Shakespeare, ' leggiadrous,' 
 in Beaumont's Psyche and elsewhere. A list, as 
 complete as I could make it, of such as have finally 
 obtained a place in the language was given in my first 
 
III. Spanish known in England. 123 
 
 lecture ; ^ they are above a hundred, and doubtless 
 many have escaped me. 
 
 There is abundant evidence that Spanish was 
 during the latter half of the sixteenth and the first 
 half of the seventeenth cent jry very widely known in 
 England, indeed far more familiar than it ever since 
 has been. The wars in the Low Countries, in which 
 so many of our countrymen served, the probabilities 
 at one period of a royal match with Spain, the fact 
 that Spanish was almost as serviceable at Brussels, at 
 Milan, at Naples, and for a time at Vienna, not to 
 speak of Lima and Mexico, as at Madrid itself, and 
 scarcely less indispensable, the many points of contact, 
 friendly and hostile, of England with Spain for well- 
 nigh a century, all this had conduced to a wide- spread 
 acquaintance with Spanish in England. It was popular 
 at court. Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth were 
 both accomplished Spanish scholars. A passage in 
 Howell's Letters would imply that at the time of 
 Prince Charles' visit to Madrid, his Spanish was im- 
 perfect, and Clarendon affirms the same ; - but at a 
 later date, that is in 1635, a Spanish play was acted 
 by a Spanish company before him.^ The statesmen 
 and scholars of the tune were rarely ignorant of the 
 language. We might have confidently presumed 
 Raleigh's acquaintance with it ; even if there were 
 not in his Discovery of Guiana and in other writings 
 abundant proof of this. Lord Bacon gives similar 
 evidence, in the Spanish proverbs which he quotes, 
 
 ' See p. 16. 
 
 2 History of the Rebellion, b. i. § 75. 
 
 ^ Collier, History of English Dramatic Poetry, vol. ii. p. 69. 
 
124 Gains of the English Language, lect. 
 
 and in the happy employment which he sometimes 
 makes of a Spanish word, where the English does not 
 offer an equivalent, as of ' desenvoltura ' in his essay, 
 Of Fortune. It was among the many accomplish- 
 ments of xArchbishop Williams, who, when the Spanish 
 match was pending, caused the English Liturgy to be 
 translated under his own eye into Spanish. ^ Pistol is 
 ever ready with his ' Castiliano vulgo,' but whether 
 Shakespeare's knowledge of the language was not 
 really limited to a few chance words and phrases, as 
 ' basta,' ' passado,' ' iico,' ' duello,' ' cavallero,' ' bonos 
 dies,' which last I suppose must be taken for Spanish, 
 and 'paucus palabras' no less, it is difficult to say. 
 But Jonson's familiarity with it is evident. More than 
 once, as in The Alchemist (Act iv. Sc. 2), he introduces 
 so large an amount of Spanish that he must have felt 
 sure this would not be altogether strange to his audience. 
 With Spanish oaths, and very ugly ones, Beaumont 
 and Fletcher were certainly acquainted ; Wycherley 
 too must have known the language.^ Of the Spanish 
 words which have effected a settlement in English, so 
 far as I know them, I have given a list already.^ 
 
 The introduction of French tastes by Charles the 
 Second and his courtiers returning from their en- 
 forced residence abroad, rather modified the structure 
 of our sentences than seriously affected our vocabu- 
 lary .; yet it gave us some new words. In one of 
 Dryden's plays. Marriage a la Mode, a lady displays 
 her affectation by constantly employing French idioms 
 
 ' See Racket, Life of A jr /ibis hop lVillia7ns, pt. i. p. 127. 
 2 See The Gentleman Dancing-juaster, 1673. 
 ^ See page 17. 
 
HI. Greek Wo7^ds in English. 125 
 
 in preference to English, French words rather than 
 native. Curiously enough, of these, thus put into her 
 mouth to render her ridiculous, several, as ' repartee,' 
 ' grimace,' ' chagrin,' ' to be in the good graces of 
 another,' are excellent English now, and have nothing 
 far-sought or affected about them : for so it frequently 
 proves that what is laughed at in the beginning, is by 
 all admitted and allowed at the last. ' Fougue ' and 
 ' fraischeur,' which Drydtn himself employed — being, 
 it is true, a very rare offender in this line, and for 
 ' fraischeur,' having Scotch if not English authority — 
 have not been justified by the same success. 
 
 Nor indeed can it be said that this adoption and 
 naturalization of foreign words has ever wholly ceased. 
 There are periods, as we have seen, when a language 
 throws open its doors, and welcomes strangers with an 
 especial freedom ; but there is never a time, when 
 one by one these foreigners and strangers are not 
 slipping into it. The process by which this is done 
 eludes for the most part our observation. Time, the 
 mightiest of all innovators, manages his innovations 
 so dexterously, spreads them over periods so large, 
 and is thus able to bring them about so gradually, that 
 often, while he is effecting the greatest changes, we 
 have no suspicion that he is effecting any at all. Thus 
 how nearly imperceptible are the steps by which a 
 foreign word is admitted into the full rights of an 
 English one. Many Greek words, for example, quite 
 unchanged in form, have in one way or another ended 
 in obtaining a home and acceptance among us. We 
 may in almost every instance trace step by step the 
 stealthy naturalization of these ; the Greek letters with 
 which many of them were spelt for a while betraying 
 
126 Gains of the English Language, lect. 
 
 the language to which they were still considered to 
 belong. But having in this way won a certain allow- 
 ance, and ceased to be altogether unfamiliar, we note 
 them next exchanging Greek for English letters, and 
 finally obtaining recognition as words which, however 
 drawn from a foreign source, are yet themselves 
 English. Thus 'acme,' 'apotheosis,' 'chrysalis/ 
 ' criterion,' ' dogma,' ' encyclopaedia,' ' euthanasia/ 
 ' hyphen,' ' iota,' ' metropolis,' ' ophthalmia,' ' pheno- 
 menon,' ' pathos,' are all English now, while yet South 
 with many others always writes aKul], Jeremy Taylor 
 a7ro6eit)(nc, thdavaaid^ Iwra, Cudworth KpLTi'ipiot', Henry 
 More x^)V(ra\ic^ Holland v^e'r. Hammond speaks 
 of hoy fjiciTct^ Ben Jonson of ' the knowledge of the 
 liberal arts, which the Greeks call kyK-oKkoir aicdav ^' ^ 
 Culverwell writes firiTpoiroXic and ofdaXfxia, Preston 
 (paivofjLEva, Sylvester ascribes to Baxter not ' pathos ^ 
 but 7ra^oc.2 ~'lld(jQ is at the present moment preparing 
 for this passage from Greek characters to English, and 
 certainly before long will be acknowledged as Enghsh, 
 The only cause which for some time past has stood in 
 the way of this is the misgiving whether it will not be 
 
 * He is not perfectly accurate here ; the Greeks spoke of 
 iv kvkKco TTatSet'a and iyKvKkLos iratSeia, but had no such com- 
 pound word as iyKvKKoircudeLa. We gather, however, from his 
 statement, as from Loid Bacon's use of ' circle-learning ' ( = ' orbis 
 doctrinee,' Quintilian), that 'encyclopaedia' did not exist in their 
 time. 'Monomania' is in like manner a modern formation, of 
 which the Greek language knows nothing. 
 
 2 See the passages quoted in my paper, On some Deficiencies 
 in our English Dictionaries, p. 38, published separately, and in 
 the Transactio7is of the Philological Society, 1857. 
 
III. Greek Words in English. 127 
 
 read ' ethos/ and not ' ethos,' and thus not be the 
 word mtended.^ 
 
 ' The Greek words which we have thus adopted into the 
 language, without submitting them to any change of form what- 
 ever, are more numerous than might be supposed. Omitting 
 those just mentioned in the text, we have these, and probably 
 many more than these ; indeed, were I to introduce all medical 
 terms, which are very numerous, and all technical terms of gram- 
 mar, rhetoric, and the like, I could myself largely increase the 
 number: thus 'acacia,' 'segis,' 'aloe,' 'aon,' 'alpha,' 'Amazon, 
 'ambrosia,' ' amphisbaena,' 'analysis,' 'anathema,' 'anemone, 
 * anthrax,' ' antipodes,' ' antistrophe, ' ' antithesis ' ' apociypha, 
 ' aposiopesis,' 'apostrophe,' 'aroma,' 'asbestos,' 'asphyxia, 
 'aster,' 'asthma,' 'atlas,' 'automaton,' ' axis,' ' azalea,' 'basis, 
 'bathos,' 'bison,' 'bronchia,' 'bronchitis,' 'calyx,' 'canon, 
 ' cantharides,' 'caryatides,' 'cassia,' 'castor,' 'catastrophe, 
 'chameleon,' 'chaos,' 'character,' 'chim^era,' 'cholera,' 'chry 
 soprasos,' 'clematis,' 'climax,' 'clyster,' 'colon,' 'colophon, 
 'colossus,' 'comma,' 'crambe,' 'crater,' 'crisis,' 'Cyclops, 
 'delta,' 'diabetes,' 'diagnosis,' 'diapason,' 'diarrhoea,' 'dia 
 stole,' 'dilemma,' 'diploma,' 'dogma,' 'drachma,' 'drama, 
 'dyspepsia,' 'echo,' 'elephantiasis,' ' embryon,' 'emphasis, 
 'enigm.a,' 'epidermis,' 'epitome,' ' eiysipelas,' 'ether,' ' exege 
 sis,' 'exodus,' 'genesis,' 'gorgon,' 'halcyon,' 'hippopotamus, 
 'horizon,' 'hydra,' 'hydrocephalus,' 'hydrophobia,' 'hyena, 
 'hyperbole,' 'hypochrondria,' 'hypothesis,' 'ibis,' 'ichneumon, 
 'ichor,' 'idea,' 'iris,' 'isosceles,' 'larynx,' 'lexicon,' 'lichen, 
 'lotos,' 'lynx,' 'mania,' ' mandragora,' 'martyr,' ' metamor 
 phosis,' 'mentor,' 'metathesis,' 'metempsychosis,' 'miasma, 
 ' moly,' ' mormo ' (obsolete), 'myrmidon,' 'naphtha,' 'nausea, 
 'necropolis,' 'nectar,' 'nemesis,' 'neuralgia,' 'oasis,' ' octo 
 pus,' 'omega,' 'onyx,' 'orchestra,' 'orchis,' 'paean,' 'panacea, 
 'pantheon,' 'panther,' 'parallax,' 'paralysis,' 'parenthesis, 
 'pelecan,' 'phaeton,' 'phalanx,' 'phantasma,' 'phasis,' 'pharos, 
 'phoenix,' 'phthisis,' 'plethora,' 'polypus,' 'proboscis,' 'prole- 
 gomena,' 'prolepsis,' ' protomartyr,' 'python,' 'rhinoceros,' 
 
128 Gains of the English Language. Lect. 
 
 Let us endeavour to trace this same process in 
 some French word, which is at this moment gaining 
 a footing among us. For ' prestige ' we have mani- 
 festly no equivalent of our own. It expresses some- 
 thing which only by a long circumlocution we could 
 express ; namely, that real though undefinable in- 
 fluence on others, which past successes, as the pledge 
 and promise of future ones, breed. It has thus natu- 
 rally passed into frequent use. No one feels that in 
 employing it he is slighting as good a word of our 
 own. At first all used it avowedly as French, writing 
 it in italics to indicate this. Some write it so still, 
 others do not ; some, that is, count it still as foreign, 
 others consider that it is not so to be regarded any 
 more.^ Little by little the number of those who write 
 it in italics will diminish ; and finally none will do 
 so. It will then only need that the accent be shifted 
 as far back as it will go, for such is the instinct of all 
 English words, that for ' prestige,' it should be pro- 
 
 'rhododendron,' 'sardonyx,' ' scoria,' ' scorpion,' 'sepia,' 'si* 
 phon,' 'siren,' 'skeleton,^ 'sphinx,' 'spleen,' 'stigma,' 'strophe,' 
 'synopsis,' 'synthesis,' 'systole,' 'thesis,' 'thorax,' 'tiara,' 
 'titan,' 'trachea,' 'tripos,' 
 
 1 We trace a similar progress in Greek words which were 
 passing into Latin. Thus Caesar {B. G. iii. 103) writes, quae 
 Graecr a^vra. appellant ; but Horace [Carm. i. 16. 5), non adytis 
 quatit. Cicero writes a^-TiTroSes {Acad. ii. 39. 1 23), but 
 Seneca {Ep. 122), 'antipodes;' that is, the word for Cicero 
 was still Greek, while in the period that elapsed between 
 him and Seneca, it had become Latin. So too Cicero has 
 eJ'SwAoj/, but the Younger Pliny 'idolon,' and Tertullian 'ido- 
 lum;' Cicero (TTpaT7}yr]ixa {jV. D. iii. 6), but Valerius Maximus 
 'strategema.' 
 
III. Shifting of Accent, 129 
 
 nounced ' prestige/ as indeed we are learning to pro- 
 nounce it, even as within these few years for ' depot ' 
 we have learned to say ' depot,' and its naturalization 
 will be complete. I have no doubt that before many 
 years it will be so pronounced by the majority of 
 educated Englishmen, — some pronounce it so already, 
 — and that the pronunciation common now will pass 
 away, just as 'obk^ge,' once universal, has everywhere 
 given place to ' obl/ge.' ^ 
 
 I observe in passing, that the process of throwing 
 the accent of a word as far back as it will go, is one 
 which has been constantly proceeding among us. In 
 the time and writings of Chaucer there was much 
 vacillation in the placing of the accent ; as was to be 
 expected, while the adoptions from the French were 
 comparatively recent, and had not yet unlearned their 
 foreign ways or made themselves perfectly at home 
 among us. Some of his French words are still ac- 
 cented on the final syllable, thus ' beaute,' ' creature,' 
 ' honour,' ' manere,' ' penance,' ' sentence,' ' service ; ' 
 others, as 'colour,' ' conseil,' 'tresour/ on the first; 
 while this vacillation displays itself still more markedly 
 in the fact that the same word is accented by him 
 sometimes on the one syllable and sometimes upon 
 the other ; he writing at one time ' nature ' and at 
 another ' nature,' at one time ' vertiie ' and at another 
 ' vertue ; ' so too ' visage ' and ' visage,' ' fortune ' and 
 ' fortune ; ' ' service ' and ' service,' with many more. 
 The same disposition to throw back the accent is 
 
 * See in Coleridge's Tabic Talk, p. 3, the amusing story of 
 John Kemble's stately correction of the Prince of Wales for 
 adhering to the earHer pronunciation, 'obL't'ge,' — 'It will 
 become your royal mouth better to say obl/ge.' 
 
 K 
 
130 Gains of the English Language, lect. 
 
 visible in later times. Thus ' captive/ ' cruel/ ^ env^/ 
 ' fore'st/ ' presage/ ' trespass/ in Spenser, and these, 
 ' adverse/ ' aspe'ct/ ' comrade/ ' contest/ ' contrite/ 
 ' edict/ ' impulse/ ' instinct/ ' insult/ ' prete'xt/ ' pro- 
 cess/ ' product/ ' prostrate/ ' surface/ ' uproar/ in 
 Milton, had all their accent once on the last syllable ; 
 they have it now on the first. So too, ' theatre ' was 
 ' theatre ' with Sylvester, this American pronunciation 
 being archaic and not vulgar ; while ' academy ' was 
 ' academy ' for Cowley and for Butler. ^ ' Produce ' 
 was ' produce ' for Dryden ; ' essay ' was ^ essay ' both 
 for him and for Pope ; he closes heroic lines with 
 one and the other of these substantives ; Pope does 
 the same with '■ barrier ' ^ and ' effort.' We may note 
 the same process going forward still. Middle-aged 
 men may remember that it was a question in their 
 youth whether it should be ' revenue ' or ' revenue ; ' 
 ' retinue ' or ' re'tinue ; ' it is always ' revenue ' and 
 ' retinue ' now. Samuel Rogers bewailed the change 
 which had taken place in his memory from ' balcony ' 
 to ' balcony.^ ' Contemplate,' he exclaims, is bad 
 enough, but ' balcony makes me sick ; ' yet it has 
 effectually won the day. Nor is it, I think, difficult 
 to explain how this should be. The speaker, con- 
 scious that somewhere or other the effort must be 
 made, is glad to have it over as soon as possible. 
 ' Apostolic/ which in Dryden's use was ' apostolic ' 
 (he ends an heroic line with it), is a rare instance of 
 the accent moving in the opposite direction. 
 
 * ' In this great academy of mankind.' 
 
 To t/ie Memory of Dit Val. 
 2 ' 'Twixt that and reason what a nice barrier.^ 
 
III. Scientific and Technical Terms. 1 3 r 
 
 Other French words not a few, besides ' prestige ' 
 which I instanced just now, are at this moment 
 hovering on the confines of English, hardly knowing 
 whether they shall become such altogether or not. 
 Such are ' ennui,' ' exploitation,' ' verve,' ' persiflage,' 
 ' badinage,' ' chicane,' ' finesse,' ' melee ' (Tennyson 
 already spells it 'mellay'), and others. All these are 
 often employed by us, — and it is out of such frequent 
 employment that adoption proceeds — because ex- 
 pressing shades of meaning not expressed by any 
 words of our own. Some of them will no doubt com- 
 plete their naturalization ; others will after a time 
 retreat again, like some which Avere named just now, 
 and become for us once more avowedly French. 
 'Solidarity,' which we owe to the French Com- 
 munists, — signifies a fellowship in gain and loss, 
 in honour and dishonour, in victory and defeat, a 
 being, so to speak, all in the same boat, — is so con- 
 venient that it would be idle to struggle against it. 
 It has estabhshed itself in German, and in other 
 European languages as well. ' Banality/ by Robert 
 Browning recently proposed for a3mission, will scarcely 
 succeed as welL 
 
 Or take an example of this progressive naturaliza- 
 tion from another quarter. In an English glossary, of 
 date 167 1, 1 do not find ' tea,' but ' cha,' which is thus 
 defined, 'the leaf of a tree in China, which being 
 infused into water, serves for their ordinary drink.' 
 Thirteen years later the word is no longer a Chinese, 
 but already a French one for us ; Locke in his Diary 
 writing it ' the'.' Early in the next century the word 
 is spelt in an entirely English fashion, in fact as we 
 spell it now, but still retains a foreign pronuncia- 
 
132 Gains of the English Language. Lect. 
 
 tion, — 'Pope rhymes it with 'obey/ — and this it has 
 only lately altogether let go. 
 
 Greek and Latin words we still continue to adopt, 
 although now no longer in troops and companies, 
 but only one by one. The lively interest which 
 always has been felt in classical studies among 
 us, and which will continue to be felt, so long as 
 Englishmen present to themselves a high culture of 
 their faculties and powers as an object of ambition, 
 so long as models of what is truest and loveliest in 
 art have any attraction for them, is itself a pledge 
 that accessions from these quarters can never cease 
 altogether. I refer not here to purely scientific terms ; 
 these, so long as they do not pass beyond the thresh- 
 old of the science for whose use they were invented, 
 have no proper right to be called words at all. They 
 are a kind of shorthand, or algebraic notation of the 
 science to which they belong ; and will find no place 
 in a dictionary constructed upon true principles, but 
 will be left to constitute a technical dictionary by them- 
 selves. They are oftentimes drafted into a dictionary 
 of the language ; but this for the most part out of 
 a barren ostentation, and that so there may be room 
 for boasting of the many thousand words by which it 
 surpasses all its predecessors. But such additions are 
 very cheaply made. Nothing is easier than to turn 
 to modern treatises on chemistry or electricity, or on 
 some other of the sciences which hardly existed, or 
 did not at all exist, half a century ago, or which — like 
 botany — have been in later times wholly new-named, 
 and to transplant new terms from these by the 
 hundred and the thousand, with which to crowd and 
 deform the pages of a dictionary. The labour is little 
 
III. Words from the Ge^'inan. 133 
 
 more than that of transcription ; but the gain is 
 nought ; or indeed is much less than nought ; for it 
 is not merely that half a dozen genuine English words 
 recovered from our old authors would be a truer gain, 
 a more real advance toward the complete inventory of 
 the wealth which we possess in words than a hundred 
 or a thousand of these ; while additions of this kind 
 merely load and disfigure the work which they pro- 
 fess to complete. 
 
 When we call to mind the near affinity between 
 English and German, which, if not sisters, are at any 
 rate first cousins, it is remarkable that almost since 
 the day when they parted company, each to fulfil its 
 own destiny, there has been little further commerce 
 in the way of giving or taking between them. Adop- 
 tions on our part from the German have been ex- 
 tremely rare. The explanation of this lies no doubt in 
 the fact that the literary activity of Germany did not 
 begin till very late, nor our interest in it till later still, 
 not indeed till the beginning of the present century. 
 Literature, however, is not the only channel by which 
 words pass from one language to another ; thus ' plun- 
 der ' was brought back from Germany about the begin- 
 ning of our Civil War by the soldiers who had served 
 under Gustavus Adolphus and his captains ; ^ while 
 ' trigger,' which reached us at the same time, and by 
 the same channel, is manifestly the German ' driicker ' 
 ('tricker' in Hudibras), though none of our dictionaries 
 have marked it as such. ' Crikesman ' (' kriegsmann '), 
 common enough in the State Papers of the sixteenth 
 century, found no permanent place in the language ; 
 
 See my Gustavus AdolpJms in Ccr?nany, p. 105. 
 
134 Gains of the English Language, lect. 
 
 and 'brandshat' (' brandschatz '), being the ransom 
 paid to an enemy for not burning dbwn your house or 
 your city, as Httle. ' Iceberg ' we must have taken 
 whole from the German, since a word of our own 
 construction would have been not ' \cQ-berg,' but ' ice- 
 mowitain.^ I have not met with it in our earlier 
 voyagers. An English ' swindler ^ is not exactly a 
 German ' schwindler ; ' yet a subaudition of the 
 knave, though more latent in German, is common to 
 both ; and we must have drawn the word from Ger- 
 many (it is not in Johnson), late in the last century. 
 Why, by the way, do we not adopt ' schwarmer ' ? 
 ' enthusiast ' does not in the least supply its place. 
 If ' ///^guard ' was originally, as Richardson suggests, 
 ' /(f/^garde,' or ' ^<?<^)'-guard,' and from that transformed, 
 by the determination of Englishmen to make it signi- 
 ficant in English, into ' /{/"^- guard,' or guard defending 
 the life of the sovereign, this will be another word 
 from the same quarter. Yet I have my doubts ; 
 ' Leibgarde ' would scarcely have found its way hither 
 before the accession of the House of Hanover, or at 
 any rate before the arrival of William with his memor- 
 able Guards ; while ' life-guard,' in its present shape, 
 is older in the language ; we hear often of the ' Hfe- 
 guards ' during our Civil War ; and Fuller writes, 
 ' The Cherethites were a kind of lifegard to king 
 David.' 1 
 
 There is only one province of words in which we 
 are recent debtors to the Germans to any considerable 
 extent. Of the terms used by the mineralogist and 
 geologist many have been borrowed, and in compa- 
 
 * Pisgah Sight of Palestine, 1650, p. 217. 
 
III. Words from the German. 135 
 
 ratively modern times, from them ; thus ' quartz,' 
 ' felspar,' ' cobalt,' ' nickel,' ' zinc,' ' hornblend ; ' while 
 other of the terms employed by us are a direct trans- 
 lation from the same ; such for instance as ' fuller's 
 earth ' (walkererde), 'pipeclay ' (pfeifenthon), 'pitch- 
 stone' (pechstein). Of very recent importations I 
 hardly know one; unless, indeed, we adopt Koch's in- 
 genious suggestion that ' to loaf and *" loafer,' which not 
 very long ago arrived in England by way of America, 
 are the German ' laufen ' and ' laufer.' 'Meerschaum ' 
 too may be regarded as nationalized now. 
 
 But if we have not imported, we have been some- 
 what given of late to the copying of, German words, 
 that is to the forming of words of our own on the 
 scheme and model of some, which having taken our 
 fancy, we have thought to enrich our own vocabulary 
 with the like. I cannot consider that we have always 
 been very happy in those thus selected for imitation. 
 Possessing ' manual,' we need not have called ' hand- 
 book ' back from an oblivion of nine hundred years ; 
 and one can only regret that ' standpoint ' has suc- 
 ceeded in forcing itself on the language. ' Einseitig ' 
 (itself modern, if I mistake not), is the pattern on 
 which we have formed ' one-sided ' — a word to which 
 a few years ago something of affectation was attached ; 
 none using it save those who dealt more or less in 
 German wares; it has however its manifest con- 
 venience, and will hold its ground ; so too, as it 
 seems, will ' fatherland,' which Sir William Temple 
 noted long ago as used by the Dutch for ' country,' ^ 
 though a certain note of affectation cleaves to it still ; 
 
 In his Miscellanea, 1697, pt. i. p. ^6. 
 
136 Gains of the E^iglish Language. Lect. 
 
 and ' windbag/ which is evidently a translation of 
 ' wind-beuteL' The happiest of these compounded 
 words, of which the hint has been taken from the 
 German, is 'folk-lore;' the substitution of this for 
 ' popular superstitions/ is an unquestionable gain. 
 
 It is only too easy to be mistaken in such a matter ; 
 but, if I do not err, the following words have all been 
 born during the present century, some within quite 
 the later decades of this century; a distribution of 
 them according to the languages from which they are 
 drawn would show that Greek and Latin are the lan- 
 guages from which at the present day our own is 
 mainly, though by no means exclusively, recruited ; 
 ' abnormal,' ' acrobat,' ' seon ' (Tennyson), ' aesthetics ' 
 (these last two must renounce their initial diphthong, 
 as ' economy,' ' ether,' and others have done, before 
 they can be regarded as quite at home with us) ; ^ 
 •'artistic,' 'biology," burke/ 'bus/ 'cab," celebrant,' 'ce- 
 ramic,' ' cereal' ' cerebration/ ' chloroform/ ' cleavage,' 
 ' clipper,' ' codify,' ' competitive,' ' condone,' ' conver- 
 sational,' ' crochety/ ' demonetize,' ' demoralize,' 
 ' deplete,' ' depletion,' ' desirability/ ' deterrent,' ' dis- 
 endow,' ' disestablish,' ' dissimilation,' ' dynamic,' 
 ' educational/ ' enlightenment,' ' eschatology,' '' ethno- 
 logy,' ' eurasian,' ' evolutionist,' ' exceptional,' ' excur- 
 sionist,' 'exhaustive,' 'exploitation,' 'extradition,' 
 ' fatherland,' ' fenian,' ' fernery,' ' finesse,' ' flange,' 
 ' flunkey/ ' folklore,' ' garotter/ ' grandiose,' ' homoeo- 
 pathy,' 'hymnal,' 'hymnary,"hymnology," immigrant," 
 ' impecunious/ ' infalliblist,' ' inopportunist,' ' iodine,' 
 
 ' A writer in the Philological Museum, so late as 1832, 
 p. 369, doubts whether ' jesthetics ' will establish itself in the 
 language ; which it certainly has done. 
 
III. New Words in English. 137 
 
 '■ linguistic,' ' loot,' ' macadamize,' ' messianic,' ' mono- 
 graph,' ' myth,' ' neutralization,' ' normal,' ' oldster,' 
 ' onesided,' ' ornamentation,' ' outcome,' ' outsider,' 
 ' ozone,' ' paraffin,' ' pastorate,' ' pe'rvert,' ' pessimist,' 
 ' petroleum ' (but why not ' rock-oil " ?), ' philander,' 
 ' photograph,' ' postulant,' ' prayerful,' ' pretentious,' 
 'protoplasm,' 'rascaldom,' 'realistic,' 'recoup,' 're- 
 formatory,' ' reliable,' ' revivalist,' ' revolver,' ' ritualist,' 
 ' rockery,' ' rowdy,' ' sanitary,' ' scamp,' ' scientist,' 
 ' sensational,' ' serial,' ' sewage,' ' shrinkage,' ' shunt,' 
 ' sociology,' ' solidarity,' ' squatter,' ' stampede,' ' stand- 
 point,' ' statistics,' ' statuesque,' ' stereotype ' (invented 
 by Didot), ' strategy,' ' stylist,' 'suggestive,' 'telegram,' 
 ' thud,' ' tourist,' ' tractarian,' ' transliteration,' ' unifor- 
 mitarian,' 'utilitarian,' 'utilize,' 'watershed.' It must 
 be confessed of some among these that we could 
 want them (in the older sense of ' to want '), without 
 the want being very seriously felt ; others have been 
 imposed upon us by necessities against which it would 
 have been vain to struggle; by new discoveries of 
 science, by new activities of thought in this direction 
 and in that, by much which is healthy, and by some- 
 thing also which is unhealthy among us ; and if they 
 are not all particularly praiseworthy, there yet are 
 some in this list, in the possession of which we are 
 manifestly gainers. I must pause here, for the subject 
 is very far from exhausted. 
 
138 Gains of the English Language. Lect. 
 
 LECTURE IV. 
 
 GAINS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 
 
 (CONTINUED.) 
 
 TAKING up the subject where in my last lecture 
 I left off, I proceed to enumerate some other 
 sources from which we have made additions to our 
 vocabulary. Of course the period when absolutely 
 new roots are generated will have passed away very 
 long indeed before men begin by a reflective act to 
 take notice of processes going forward in the language 
 which they speak. That pure productive energy, 
 creative we might call it, belongs to times quite out 
 of the ken of history. It is only from materials already 
 existing that it can enrich itself in the later, or his- 
 torical stages of its development. 
 
 This it can do in many ways. And first, it can 
 bring what it has already, two words or more, into 
 new combinations, and form a new word out of these. 
 Much more is wanted here than merely to link them 
 together by a hyphen ; they must really coalesce and 
 grow together. Different languages, and even the 
 same language at different epochs of its life, will 
 possess this power in very different degrees. The 
 eminent felicity of the Greek has been always ac- 
 knowledged. ' The joints of her compounded words,' 
 says Fuller, 'are so naturally oiled, that they run 
 
IV. Compound Epithets, 139 
 
 nimbly on the tongue, which makes them, though long, 
 never tedious, because significant.' ^ Sir Philip Sydney- 
 makes the same claim for our English, namely, that 
 ' it is particularly happy in the composition of two or 
 three words together, near equal to the Greek.' ^ No 
 
 ' Holy State, b. ii. c. 6. Latin promised at one time to 
 display an almost equal freedom in form.ing new words by the 
 happy marriage of old. But at the period of its highest culture 
 it seemed possessed with a timidity, which caused it voluntarily 
 to abdicate this with many of its own powers. In the Augustan 
 period we look in vain for new epithets like these, both occurring 
 in a single line of Catullus : ' Ubi cerva silvicultrix, ubi aper 
 nemorivagus ;'' or again, as his * fluentisonus,' as the 'salsipo- 
 tens' of Plautus, the 'velivolus,' the 'noctivagus' of Lucretius, 
 or as the 'imbricitor' of Ennius. Nay, of those pregnant com- 
 pounds which the language once had formed, it let numbers 
 drop : 'parcipromus,' ' turpilucricupidus,' and many more, do 
 not extend beyond Plautus ; nor ' fallaciloquentia,' exactly 
 corresponding to the TriOauoXoyia of St. Paul (Col. ii. 4), beyond 
 Accius. Quintilian (i. 5. 70) : Res tota magis Graecos decet, 
 nobis minus succedit ; nee id fieri natura puto, sed alienis 
 favemus ; ideoque cum Kvpravx^vo. mirati sumus, incurvicermcuvi 
 vix a risu defendimus. Elsewhere he complains of the little 
 generative power of the Latin, its continual losses being compen- 
 sated by no equivalent gains (viii. 6. 32) : Deinde, tanquam con- 
 summata sint omnia, nihil generare audemus ipsi, quum multa 
 quotidie ab antiquis ficta moriantur. Still the silver age of the 
 language did recover to some extent the abdicated energies of 
 its earlier times, reasserted among other powers that of combin- 
 ing words, with a certain measure of success. 
 
 - There is a certain exaggeration here. We can do much, 
 but in this matter the Germans are on a nearer equality with 
 the Greeks than we are. How rich is Goethe in such com- 
 pounds, though his earlier formations possess a certain natural 
 ease, which is sometimes wanting in his latter. Thus the first 
 part of Tvzwj/ yields us such as follow: 'gnadenpforte,' 'don- 
 
140 Gains of the E^iglish Lmigiiage. Lect. 
 
 one has done more than Milton to justify this praise, 
 or to show what may be effected by this happy mar- 
 riage of words. Many of his compound epithets, as 
 ' grey-hooded even,' ' coral-paven floor,' ' flowry-kirtled 
 Naiades/ ' golden-winged host,' ' Night's drowsy- 
 flighted steeds,' ' night-foundered skiff,' ' tinsel- 
 slippered feet,' * violet-embroidered vale,' ' dewy- 
 feathered sleep,' 'sky- tinctured grain,' 'vermeil- 
 tinctured lip,' ' amber-dropping hair,' are them- 
 selves, like the ' tempest-footed steeds,' the ' night- 
 wandering stars ' of the Greek poet, poems in 
 miniature. Not unworthy to be set beside these are 
 Sylvester's ' opal-coloured morn,' Drayton's ' silver- 
 sanded shore,' Marlowe's 'golden-fingered Ind,' 
 Beaumont and Fletcher's 'golden-tressed Apollo,' 
 Spenser's 'sea-shouldering whale,' with which Keats 
 was so much delighted, Shakespeare's ' heavy-gaited 
 toad,' ' eagle-winged pride,' ' maid-pale peace,' Chap- 
 man's (for Pope owed it to Chapman) ' rosy- 
 fingered morn,' Keats' ' yellow-girted bees,' Tenny- 
 son's ' silver-coasted isle,' and 'rock-thwarted waves.' 
 At the same time combinations like these remain so 
 much the peculiar property of their first author, they 
 so little pass into any further use, that they must rather 
 be regarded as evidences of its poetical than augmen- 
 tations of its linguistic wealth. Such words as ' inter- 
 national,' or as ' folk-lore,' instanced already, are 
 better examples of additions to our every-day working 
 vocabulary. ' International ' we owe to Jeremy 
 Bentham, one of the boldest, yet in the main least 
 
 nergang,' ' lebensfluth,' ' thatensturm ; ' but the second such as 
 these: 'glitzerstand,' ' glanzgewimmel,' 'krackzegruss.' 
 
IV. Educational, Deriominational. 141 
 
 successful among the fashioners of new words by the 
 putting together of old. But strange and formless as 
 is for the most part this progeny of his brain, he has 
 given us here a word which does such excellent * 
 service, that it is difficult to understand how the 
 language contrived so long to do without it. 
 
 We have further increased our vocabulary by form- 
 ing new words according to the analogy of formations 
 which in parallel cases have been already allowed. 
 Thus upon the substantives, ' congregation,' ' conven- 
 tion,' were formed ' congregational,' ' conventional ; ' 
 yet these at a comparatively modern date ; ' congrega- 
 tional ' first rising up in the Assembly of Divines, or 
 during the time of the Commonwealth.^ These 
 having found allowance, the process is repeated, not 
 always with very gratifying results, in the case of other 
 words with the same ending. We are now used to 
 ' educational,' and the word is serviceable enough ; 
 but I can remember when a good many years ago an 
 '■Educational Magazine' was started, one's first impres- 
 sion was, that a work having to do with education 
 should not thus bear upon its front an offensive, or 
 at best a very questionable, novelty in the English 
 language. These adjectives are now multiplying fast. 
 We have ' inflexional,' ' seasonal,' ' exceptional,' 
 ' denominational,' and on this, in dissenting maga- 
 zines at least, the monstrous birth, ' denomination- 
 alism : ' ' emotional ' is creeping into books \ ' sensa- 
 tional,' name and thing, has found only too ready a 
 welcome among us ; so that it is hard to say whether 
 
 * Collection of Scarce Tracts, edited by Sir W. Scott, vol. vii. 
 p. 91. 
 
142 Gains of the English Language. Lect. 
 
 all words with this termination will not finally generate 
 an adjective. Convenient as you may sometimes 
 find these, you will do well to abstain from all but 
 the perfectly well recognized formations. For as 
 many as have no claim to be arbiters of the language 
 Pope's advice is good, as certainly it is safe, that 
 they be not among the last to use a word which is 
 going out, nor among the fiist to employ one that is 
 coming in. 
 
 ' Its,' the anomalously formed genitive of ' it,' was 
 created with the object of removing an inconvenience, 
 which for a while made itself seriously felt in the lan- 
 guage. The circumstances of the rise of this little 
 word, and of the place which it has secured itself 
 among us, are sufficiently curious to justify a treatment 
 which might appear out of proportion with the import- 
 ance that it has ; but which none will deem so, who 
 are at all acquainted with the remarkable facts of our 
 language bound up in the story of the word. 
 
 Within the last few years attention has been drawn 
 to the circumstance that ' its ' is of comparatively 
 recent introduction into the language. The earliest 
 example which has yet been adduced is from Florio's 
 World of Words, 1598 ; the next from the translation 
 of Montaigne by the same author, 1603. You will 
 not find it once in our English Bible, the office which 
 it fulfils for us now being there fulfilled either by ' his ' 
 (Gen. i. II ; Exod. xxxvii. 17 ; Matt. v. 15) or 'her' 
 (Jon. i. 15 ; Rev. xxii. 2), ^these applied as freely to 
 inanimate things as to persons ; or else by ' thereof 
 (Gen. iii. 6; Ps. Ixv. 10) or 'of it' (Dan. vii. 5). Xor 
 may Lev. xxv. 5 be urged as invalidating this assertion, 
 as there will presently be occasion to show. To 
 
IV. ^ Its' a recent Wo7^d in English. 143 
 
 Bacon ' its ' is altogether unknown ; he too had no 
 scmple about usinsj ' his ' as a neuter ; as in the fol- 
 lowing passage : ' Learning hath his infancy, when it 
 is but beginning and almost childish ; then his youth, 
 when // is luxuriant and juvenile ; then his strength of 
 years, when // is solid and reduced ; and lastly his 
 old age, when it waxeth dry and exhaust.' ' ' Its ' is 
 equally unknown to Spenser ; one example of it has 
 been adduced from Ben Jonson, who however knows 
 nothing of it in his Gramma?- : while in Shakespeare 
 it occurs very rarely, in far the larger number of his 
 plays not once ; indeed, all counted, I do not believe 
 more than ten times in the whole ; though, singularly 
 enough, three of these uses occur in one speech 
 of twelve lines in The Winter's Tale.^ Milton for the 
 most part avoids it ; yet we find it a few times in his 
 poetry.^ 
 
 It is not hard to trace the motives which led to the 
 generation of this genitive, or the causes which have 
 
 1 Essay 58. - Act i. Sc. 2. 
 
 2 As in F, L. i. 254 ; iv. 813. For all this it is employed 
 by him so rarely, that the use of it four times in the little poem 
 which has been recently ascribed to him, seems to me of itself 
 nearly decisive against his authorship. It is worth while, 
 however, to see what has been urged to weaken this argument 
 in Mr. Morley's King and Commo7is. Unluckily, neither Mrs. 
 Cowden Clarke, to whom we owe so excellent a Concoj'dance 
 of Shakespeare's Plays (but why not of his Poems as well?) 
 nor Mr. Prendergast, to whom we are indebted for one of 
 Milton's Poetical Works, was aware of the importance of 
 registering the very rare occurrences of ' its ' in their several 
 authors, and we look in vain for any notice of the word in 
 them. 
 
144 Gains of the English Language. Lect. 
 
 enabled it against much tacit opposition to hold its 
 own. So soon as ever it was forgotten that ^ his ' was 
 the working genitive of ' it ' as well as of ' he,' a 
 manifest inconvenience attended the employment of 
 ' his ' both for mascuHne and neuter, or, to speak more 
 accurately, for persons and for things ; this, namely, 
 that the personifying power of ' his,' no unimportant 
 power for the poet, was seriously impaired, almost 
 destroyed, thereby. It would be often difficult, nay 
 impossible, to determine whether such a personifica- 
 tion was intended or not ; and even where the con- 
 text made perfectly evident that such ivas meant, the 
 employment of the same form where nothing of the 
 kind was intended, contributed greatly to diminish 
 its eftect. Craik has noticed as a consequence of this 
 that Milton prefers, wherever it is possible, the femi- 
 nine to the masculine personification,^ as if he felt 
 that the latter was always obscure from the risk of ' his ' 
 being taken for the neuter pronoun. There was room 
 too for other confusions. When we read of the Ancient 
 of Days, that ' his throne was like the fiery flame, and 
 his wheels as burning fire ' (Dan. vii. 9), who does 
 not now refer the second ' his ' as well as the first 
 to ' the Ancient of Days ' ? It indeed belongs to the 
 throne. 
 
 So strongly had these and other inconveniences 
 made themselves felt, that there was already, and had 
 been for a long while, a genitival employment of ' it,' 
 whereby it was made to serve all the uses which ' its ' 
 served at a latter day. In some dialects, in the West 
 
 ' Thus see P. L. ii. 4, 175, 584; ix. 1103; Comus, 396, 
 468. 
 
IV. ' Its' a recent Word in English. 145 
 
 Midland for example, this dates very far back.^ We 
 have one example of ' it,' so used, in the Authorized 
 Version of Scripture, Lev. xxv. 5 : ' That which 
 groweth of // own accord thou shalt not reap ' — 
 which has silently been changed in later editions to 
 ' its own accord ; ' but ' it ' was the reading in the ex- 
 emplar edition of 161 1, and for a considerable time 
 following ; it is to be found so late as in an edition of 
 1668; though I believe not later; while already in 
 one of 1654 ' its ^ had put in an appearance. Exactly 
 the same phrase, ' of // own accord,' occurs in the 
 Geneva Version at Acts xii. lo.^ There are several 
 examples, thirteen have been counted, of this use of 
 ' it ' in Shakespeare ; thus in The Winter'' s Tale, iii. 2 : 
 ' The innocent milk in // most innocent mouth ; ' and 
 again in King John, ii- 3 : ' Go to it grandame.' And 
 they are by no means unfrequent in other writers of 
 the earlier half of the seventeenth century. Thus in 
 Rogers' Naaman the Syrian, published in 1642, but 
 the lectures delivered some eight years earlier, 'its' 
 nowhere occurs, but a genitival ' it ' often ; thus, ' I 
 am at this mark, to withdraw the soul from the life of 
 // own hand' [Preface, p. i) ; and again, ' The power 
 of the Spirit is such that it blows at it own pleasure ' 
 (p. 441); and again, 'The scope which mercy pro- 
 
 ' See Guest, Hist, of English Rhythms, vol. i. p. 280. 
 
 2 And also in Hooker, Eccles. Pol. i. 3. 5. In Keble's edition 
 this is printed ' of its own accord. ' Were this the original read- 
 ing, then, as the book was first published in 1594, we should 
 have an earlier example of ' its ' by four years than that in 
 Florio ; but in all editions up to that of 1632, 'of // own 
 accord ' is the reading. 
 
 L 
 
J 46 Gains of tlie English Language. Lect. 
 
 pounds to herself in the turning the soul to God, 
 even the glory of // own self ^ (p. 442).^ ' It ' where 
 we should use ' its ' occurs in a work published in 
 1656. I know of no later literary use ; but it is very 
 common in Lancashire still. 
 
 No doubt we have here in this use of ' it ' a step- 
 ping-stone by which the introduction of ' its ' was 
 greatly aided. And yet the word was for long very 
 reluctantly allowed, above all in any statelier style. 
 It was evidently regarded as a distasteful makeshift, 
 not always to be dispensed with, but to which re- 
 course should be had only when this was unavoidable. 
 This feeling is not even now extinct. I remember 
 hearing Lord Macaulay say that he always avoided 
 ' its ^ when he could ; while to every writer of English 
 verse, who has any sense of melody, the necessity of 
 using it is often most unwelcome. It is, in fact, a 
 parvenu^ which has forced itself into good society at 
 last, but not with the good will of those who in the 
 end had no choice but to admit it. 
 
 There is indeed a ver}^ singular period in our 
 literature, extending over more than the first half of the 
 seventeenth century, during which the old grammati- 
 cal usages, namely, ' his ^ applied to neuters as freely 
 as to masculines, or instead of this, ' thereof,' or ' of 
 it,' were virtually condemned — the first as involving 
 
 * See upon this whole subject Craik, On the English of 
 Shakespeare, 2nd edit. p. 97 ; Marsh, Manual of the E?iglish 
 Language, Engl. edit. p. 278 ; Transactions of the Philological 
 Society, vol. i. p. 280 ; Wright, The Bible Word-book, s. v. 'it ;' 
 and the Essay on Milton's English, prefixed to Masson's edition 
 of his Poetical Works. 
 
IV. '' Its' reluctantly employed. 147 
 
 many possible confusions, the others as clumsy and 
 antiquated contrivances for escaping these confusions, 
 while yet at the same time the help of ' its ^ is claimed 
 as sparingly as possible, by some is not claimed at all. 
 Thus I have carefully examined large portions of 
 Daniel and Drayton — the first died in 1619, the 
 second in 1631 — without once lighting upon the word, 
 and am inclined to believe that it occurs in neither ; 
 but, which is very much more noticeable, I have done 
 this without lighting upon more than one or two pas- 
 sages where there was even the temptation, if the poet 
 shrunk from the employment of ' its,' to employ any 
 of the earlier substitutes ; so that it is hardly too much 
 to say that the whole fashion of their sentences must 
 have been often shaped by a conscious or unconscious 
 seeking to avoid the alternative necessities either of 
 using, or else evidently finding a substitute for, this 
 unwelcome little monosyllable. Dryden, I suppose, 
 had no conscious scruple about employing ' its,' and 
 yet how rarely he did so, as compared with a modern 
 writer under the same inducements, a fact like this 
 remarkably attests, namely, that in his rendering of 
 the second book of the y^neid, on which I made the 
 experiment, ' its ' occurs only three times, while in 
 Conington's translation of the same no fewer times 
 than twenty-six. We may further note that many who 
 employed the newly invented possessive, ever and 
 anon fell back on ' his,' or * her,' or ' thereof,' as 
 though the other did not exist. It is thus continually 
 with Fuller, and, though not so often, with Jeremy 
 Taylor. Thus the former says of Solomon's Temple : 
 ' Twice was it pillaged by foreign foes, and four times 
 by her own friends before the final destruction there- 
 
 L 2 
 
148 Gains of the English Langttage. lect. 
 
 of.^^ He turns to 'thereof for help ten times for 
 once that ' its ' finds allowance with him. And in 
 Jeremy Taylor a construction such as the following is 
 not unusual : ' Death hath not only lost the sting, but 
 // bringeth a coronet in hei- hand.' 
 
 How soon, with all this, the actual novelty of ' its ' 
 was forgotten is strikingly evidenced by the fact that 
 when Dryden, in one of his moods of fault-finding 
 with the poets of the preceding generation, is taking 
 Ben Jonson to task for general inaccuracy in his 
 English diction, among other counts of his indict- 
 ment, he quotes this line from Catiline, 
 
 'Though heaven should speak with all his wrath at once,' 
 
 and proceeds, ' heaven is ill syntax with his ; ' and 
 this, while in fact till w^ithin forty or fifty years of the 
 time when Dryden began to write, no other syntax 
 was known ; and to a much later date was exceed- 
 ingly rare. Curious, too, is it to note that in the 
 earnest controversy which followed on the publication 
 by Chatterton of the poems ascribed by him to the 
 monk Rowley, w^ho should have lived in the fifteenth 
 centuiy, no one appealed to the following line, 
 ' Life and all its goods I scorn, ' 
 
 as at once deciding that the poems were not of the 
 age which they pretended. Warton, who denied, 
 though with some hesitation, the antiquity of the 
 poems,^ giving many and sufficient reasons for this 
 denial, failed to take note of this little word, which 
 betrayed the forgery at once. 
 
 ^ Pisgah Sight of Palestine, p. 40. Compare Marsh, Lectu?'es 
 on the English Language. New York, i860, p, 399. 
 - History of English Foet7y, vol. ii, p. 463, sqq. 
 
IV. Many words recovered. 149 
 
 Again, languages enrich their vocabulary, our own 
 has largely done so, by recovering treasures which 
 had escaped them for a while. Not that all which 
 drops out of use and memory is loss ; there are words 
 which it is gain to be rid off, and which none w^ould 
 wish to revive ; words of which Dryden says truly, 
 though in a somewhat ungracious comparison — they 
 do 'not deserve this redemption, any more than the 
 crowds of men who daily die, or are slain for sixpence 
 in a battle, merit to be restored to life, if a wish could 
 revive them.' ^ But there are others which it is a real 
 advantage to draw back again from the temporary obli- 
 vion into which they had fallen, and such recoveries 
 are more numerous than might at first be supposed. 
 
 You may remember that Horace, tracing in a few 
 memorable lines the fortune of words, and noting 
 that many, once current, were in his time no longer 
 in use, did not therefore count that of necessity their 
 race was for ever run. So far from this, he confi- 
 dently anticipated a palingeiiesy or renewed existence 
 for many among them.^ They had set, but they 
 should rise again : what seemed death was only sus- 
 pended animation. Such indeed is constantly the 
 fact. Words slip almost or quite as imperceptibly 
 back into use as they once slipped out of it. There 
 is abundant evidence of this. Thus in 1534 it was 
 found necessary to gloss as archaisms the following 
 words, 'behest,' 'chieftain,' 'desert,' 'thrall,' 'thraldom.' 
 
 ' Postscript to his Translation of the ^neid. For Gray's 
 judgment on the words recovered or recalled by Dryden, see 
 Letter 43, to West. 
 
 ^ Multa renascentur, quae jam cecidere. 
 
 Art. Poet. 46-72 ; cf. Ep. ii. 2. 115. 
 
150 Gains of the English Language, lect. 
 
 So too in the contemporary gloss which an anonymous 
 friend of Spenser furnishes to his Shephei'd^s Calendar, 
 first pubHshed in 1579, 'for the exposition of old 
 words/ as he declares, he includes the following in 
 his list : ' askance/ ' bevy/ ' coronal/ ' dapper/ ' em- 
 bellish/ ' fain/ ' flowret ' ' forlorn/ ' forestall, ' glee,' 
 *keen,' 'scathe,' 'seer,' 'surly,' 'welter/ 'wizard,' 
 wdth others quite as familiar as these. In the table 
 of words ' not familiar to the vulgar reader,' and ex- 
 plained in the first edition of the Rhemish Bible, 
 the following are included : ' acquisition,' ' advent,' 
 ' adulterate,' ' allegory,' ' co-operate,' ' prsescience/ 
 ' evangelize/ '' eunuch.' In Speght's Chancer (1667), 
 there is a long list of ' old and obscure W'Ords in 
 Chaucer explained ; ' these ' old and obscure words ' 
 including 'anthem,' 'bland,' 'blithe,' 'carol,' 'chaplet,' 
 'deluge,' 'franchise,' 'illusion,' 'problem,' 'recreant,' 
 ' sphere,' ' tissue,' ' transcend,' with very many easier 
 than these. In Skinner's Etymologico?! (167 1), there 
 is another such list of words which have gone out of 
 use,* and among these he includes 'to dovetail,' 'to 
 interlace,' 'elvish,' 'encumbred,' 'gawd,' 'glare,' 'mali- 
 son,' 'masquerade' (mascarade), 'oriental,' 'phantom/ 
 ' plumage,' ' pummel ' (pomell), ' shapely.' Again, 
 there is prefixed to Thomson's Castle of Indolence, 
 in which, as is well known, he affects the archaic, an 
 ' explanation of the obsolete words used in this poem.' 
 They are not very many, but they include 'appal,' 
 'aye/ 'bale,' 'blazon,' 'carol,' 'deftly,' 'gear,' 'glee/ 
 ' imp,' ' nursling,' ' prankt,' ' sere,' ' sheen,' ' sweltry/ 
 
 ' Etymologicon vocum ofjtnium antiquarum quce usque a Wil- 
 helmo Victore invaluej-unt, et jam afite parentum cBtatem in usu 
 esse desierunt. 
 
IV. Many words recove7'ed. 1 5 1 
 
 'thrall,' 'unkempt,' 'wight;' many of 'which would 
 be used without scruple in the prose, the remainder 
 belonging to the recognized poetical diction, of the 
 present day. West, a contemporary of Thomson, whose 
 works have found their way into Johnson's Foets, and 
 who, like Thomson, flattered himself that he was writ- 
 ing ' in the manner of Spenser,' counts it necessary to 
 explain 'assay,' 'astound,' 'caitiff,' 'dight,' 'emprise,' 
 ' guise,' ' kaiser,' ' palmer,' ' paragon,' ' paramour,' 
 ' paynim,' ' prowess,' ' trenchant,' ' welkin ; ' with all 
 which our poetry is familiar now. Gray, writing in 
 1771, regarded 'eschew,' 'forth,' 'gaud,' 'meed,' 
 ' sheen ' and ' wight ' as obsolete. 
 
 It is well-nigh incredible what words it has been 
 sometimes proposed to dismiss from our English 
 Bible on the plea that they ' are now almost or 
 entirely obsolete.' Wemyss, writing in t8i6, desired 
 to get rid of ' athirst,' ' ensample,' ' garner,' ' haply,' 
 'jeopardy,' 'lack,' 'passion,' 'straightway,' 'twain,' 
 ' wax,' with a multitude of other words not a whit more 
 aloof from our ordinary use. Purver, whose JVew and 
 Literal Ti'anslation of the Old and New Testament 
 appeared in 1764, has an enormous list of expressions 
 that are ' clownish, barbarous, l^ase, hard, technical, 
 misapplied, or new coined;' and among these are 'be- 
 guile,' 'boisterous,' 'lineage,' 'perseverance,' 'potentate,' 
 'remit,' 'seducer,' 'shorn,' 'swerved,' 'vigilant,' 'unc- 
 tion,' 'unloose,' 'vocation.' And the same worship 
 of the fleeting present, of the transient fashions of the 
 hour in language, with the same contempt of that 
 stable past which in all likelihood will be the enduring 
 future, long after these ephemeral fashions have passed 
 away and are forgotten, manifests itself to an extra- 
 
152 Gai7is of the English Language, lect. 
 
 vagant degree in the new Version of the American 
 Bible Union. It needs only for a word to have the 
 slightest suspicion of age upon it, to have ceased but 
 for the moment to be the current money of the street 
 and the market-place, and there is nothing for it but 
 peremptory exclusion. 'To chasten' and 'chastening,' 
 ' to better,' ' to faint,' ' to quicken,' ' conversation,' 
 ^saints,' 'wherefore,' 'straitly,' 'wroth,' with hundreds 
 more, are thrust out, avowedly upon this plea ; and 
 modern substitutes introduced in their room. I can 
 fancy no more effectual scheme for debasing the Ver- 
 sion, nor, if it were admitted as the law of revision, for 
 the lasting impoverishment of the English tongue. One 
 can only liken it to a custom of some barbarous tribes, 
 who, as soon as their relatives begin to show tokens 
 of old age, bury them alive, or by some other means 
 put them out of the way. They, however, might 
 plead this, that their old would grow older still, more 
 useless, more burdensome, every day. It is very far 
 from faring so with the words which, on somewhat 
 similar grounds, are forcibly dismissed, A multitude 
 of these, often the most precious ones, after a period 
 of semi-obsoleteness, of withdrawal from active service 
 for a while, obtain their second youth, pass into free 
 and unquestioned currency again ; words 
 
 ' whilom flourishing 
 Pass now no more ; but banished from the court, 
 Dwell with disgrace among the county sort, 
 And those which eld's strict doom did disallow, 
 And damn for bullion, pass as current now.' 
 
 But nothing would so effectually hinder this rejuven- 
 escence as the putting a ban upon them directly they 
 have passed out of vulgar use ; as this resolution, that 
 
IV. Palingenesy of Words. 1 5 3 
 
 if they have withdrawn for ever so brief a time from 
 the every-day service of men, they shall never be 
 permitted to return to it again. A true lover of his 
 native tongue will adopt another course : 
 Obscurata diu populo bonus eruet, 
 
 and valuable words which are in danger of disappeaf^ 
 ing, instead of bidding to be gone, he will do his best 
 to detain or recover. 
 
 Who would now affirm of the verb ' to hallow ' that 
 it is even obsolescent ? yet Wallis two hundred years 
 ago observed — ' it has almost gone out of use ' (fere 
 desuevit). It would be difficult to find an example 
 of the verb ' to advocate ' between Milton and Burke. 
 Franklin, an admirable master of the homelier English 
 style, considered the word to have sprung up during 
 his own residence in Europe. In this, indeed, he was 
 mistaken ; it had only during this period revived. 
 Johnson says of 'jeopardy' that it is a 'word not now 
 in use;' which certainly is not any longer true.^ He 
 
 ' In like manner La Bmyere {Caracieres, c. 14) laments 
 the extinction of a large number of French words which he 
 names. At least half of these have now free course in the 
 language, as ' valeureux,' 'haineux,' 'peineux,' 'fructueux,' 
 'mensonger,' 'coutumier,' 'vantard,' ' courtois,' 'jovial,' ' fe- 
 toyer,' 'larmoyer,' 'verdoyer;' and may every one be found 
 in Littre's Dictionary. A genuine scholar such as Adelung 
 regarded in 1789 the following German words as archaisms 
 which it would be advantageous to set aside, as not serviceable 
 anymore: 'eiland,' 'entsprechen,' 'fchde,' 'heimath,' ' lands- 
 knecht,' 'mahl,' 'obhut,' 'reissig,' 'schlacht,' ' sippschaft ; ' 
 while the following he counted as unacceptable novelties : 
 ' beabsichtigen, ' 'entgegnen,' 'ingrimm,' ' gemeinplatz,' ' lie- 
 bevolL' In Grimm's Wortcrbuch 'gebilde,' forgotten for cen- 
 
154 Gains of the English Langtiage. lect. 
 
 affirms the same of the verb ' to succumb ; ' ' woman- 
 hood ' he declares to be obsolete. He has never 
 heard of ' to smoulder/ but as he recognizes the parti- 
 ciple '' smouldering,' guesses there must be such a verb. 
 I am persuaded that in easiness of being understood, 
 Chaucer is not merely as near, but much nearer, to us 
 than he was felt by Dr}'den and his contemporaries to 
 be to them. They make exactly the same sort of 
 complaints, only in still stronger language, about his 
 archaic phraseology and the obscurities it involves, 
 which we still som.etimes hear at the present day. 
 Thus in the Preface to his Tales from Chaucer, 
 having quoted some not very difficult lines from the 
 earlier poet whom he was modernizing, he proceeds; 
 'You have here a specimen of Chaucer's language, 
 which is so obsolete that his sense is scarce to be un- 
 derstood.' ^ And Fuller to the same effect : ' In a 
 century of years languages grow strangers to them- 
 selves ; as now an Englishman needs an interpreter 
 to understand Chaucer's English.' Nor did it fare 
 thus with Chaucer only. These wits and poets of the 
 Court of Charles the Second were conscious of a 
 wider gulf between themselves and the Elizabethan 
 
 tunes, and absent from all modern Dictionaries, reappears, and. 
 vindicates its right to reappear. 
 
 ^ But for all this Dryden thought him worth understanding. 
 Not so Addison. In a rapid review of English poets he accounts 
 * the merry bard ' — this is his characteristic epithet for the 
 most pathetic poet in the language — as one the whole signifi- 
 cance of whose antiquated verse has for ever passed away : 
 ' But age has rusted what the poet writ, 
 Worn out his language, and obscured his wit. 
 In vain he jests in his unpolished strain, 
 And tries to make his readers laugh in vain.' 
 
IV. Dry den on Shakespeare. 155 
 
 3era, separated from them by little more than fifty 
 years, than any of which 7ve are aware, separated 
 from it by two centuries more. It was not merely 
 that they felt themselves more removed from its tone 
 and spirit ; it is easy to understand how this should 
 be ; ^ but they evidently found more difficulty and 
 strangeness in the language of Spenser and Shake- 
 speare than we find at this day ; it seemed to 
 them far more crowded with obsolete terms than it 
 does to us at the present. Only so can one explain 
 the tone in which they are accustomed to speak of 
 these worthies of the near past. I must again cite 
 Dryden, the truest representative for good and for 
 evil of literary England during the later decades of 
 the seventeenth century. Of Spenser, whose death 
 was separated from his own birth by little more than 
 thirty years, he speaks as of one belonging to quite a 
 different epoch, counting it much to say, ' notwith- 
 standing his obsolete language, he is still intelligible ; 
 at least after a little practice.' ^ Nay, hear his judg- 
 ment of Shakespeare himself, so far as language is 
 concerned : ' It must be allowed to the present age 
 that the tongue in general is so much refined since 
 Shakespeare's time, that many of his words and m.ore 
 of his phrases are scarce intelligible. And of those 
 
 ^ Addison takes credit for this inability of his own age to 
 find any satisfaction in tliat whicli Spenser sung for the delight 
 of his: 
 
 * But now the mystic tale, that pleased of yore, 
 Can charm our understanding age no more ; 
 The long-spun allegories fulsome grow, 
 While the dull moral lies too plain below.' 
 2 Preface to Jiruenal. 
 
156 Gains of the English Language, lect. 
 
 which we understand, some are ungrammatical, others 
 coarse; and his whole style is so pestered with figura- 
 tive expressions, that it is as affected as it is obscure.' ^ 
 Sometimes a word emerges from the lower strata 
 of society, not indeed new, but yet to most seeming 
 new, its very existence having been forgotten by the 
 larger number of those speaking the language ; although 
 it must have somewhere lived on upon the lips of men. 
 Thus, since the gold-fields of California and Australia 
 have been opened, we hear often of a ' nugget ' of 
 gold ; being a lump of the pure metal ; and it has been 
 debated whether the word is a new birth altogether, 
 or a popular recasting of ' ingot.' It is most probably 
 this last ; and yet scarcely a recent one, framed for the 
 present need, seeing that ' nugget,' or ' niggot ' as it is 
 spelt by them, occurs in our elder writers.^ There 
 can be little doubt of the identity of ' niggot ' and 
 ' nugget ; ' all the consonants, the stamina of a word, 
 being the same ; whilst that earlier form makes plau- 
 
 ^ Preface to Troilus and Cressida. In justice to Dryden, and 
 lest he should seem to speak poetic blasphemy, it should not be 
 forgotten that ' pestered ' had in his time no such offensive a 
 sense as it has now. It meant no more than inconveniently 
 crowded (see my Select Glossary, s. v.). Still it is wonderful to 
 hear him saying, as he does elsewhere, that ' Shakespeare had 
 rather written happily, than knowingly or justly,' when indeed his 
 art is quite as marvellous as his nature, supposing it possible to 
 distinguish the one from the other. 
 
 - Thus in North's Phitarch's Lives, p. 499 : ' After the fire 
 was quenched, they found in niggots of gold and silver mingled 
 together, about a thousand talents ; ' and again, p. 323 : ' There 
 was brought a marvellous great mass of treasure in niggots of 
 gold.' The word has not found its way into our dictionaries or 
 glossaries. 
 
IV. One Word becomes two. 1 5 7 
 
 sible the suggestion that ' nugget ' is only ' ingot ' a 
 little disguised, since it wants nothing but the very 
 common transposition of the first two letters to bring 
 them to an almost absolute identity. ' To shunt,' an 
 obscure provincialism before the sera of railways, is now 
 in everybody's mouth, or at any rate is understood by 
 everybody, and has already acquired a secondary and 
 figurative meaning. 
 
 There is another very fruitful source of increase in 
 the vocabulary of a language. What was once one 
 word separates into two, takes two forms, or even 
 more, and each of these asserts an existence inde- 
 pendent of the other. The impulse and suggestion 
 to this is in general first given by differences in pro- 
 nunciation, which are presently represented by dif- 
 ferences in spelling ; or it will sometimes happen that 
 what at first were no more than precarious and arbi- 
 trary variations in spelling come in the end to be 
 regarded as words altogether distinct : they detach 
 themselves from one another, not again to reunite ; 
 just as accidental varieties in fruits or flowers, pro- 
 duced at hazard, have permanently separated off, and 
 settled into different kinds. They have each its own 
 distinct domain of meaning, as by general agreement 
 assigned to it ; dividing the inheritance between them, 
 which before they held in common. No one who has 
 not watched and catalogued these words as they have 
 fallen under his notice, would believe how numerous 
 they are. 
 
 Sometimes as the accent is placed on one syllable 
 of a word or another, it comes to have different signi- 
 fications, and those so distinctly marked, that the 
 
158 Gains of the English Language, lect. 
 
 separation may be regarded as complete. Examples 
 of this, are the following : ' divers ' and ' dive'rse ; ' 
 'conjure' and 'conjiire;' * antic' and 'antique;' 
 ' human ' and ' humane ; ' ' urban ' and ' urbane ; ' 
 ' gentle/ ' gentile/ and ' genteel ; ' ' custom ' and ' cos- 
 tume ; ' ' essay ' and * assay ; ' ' property ' and ' pro- 
 priety.' Or again a word is pronounced at full, or 
 somewhat more shortly : thus ' spirit ' and ' sprite ; 
 ' blossom ' and ' bloom ; ' ' courtesy ' and ' curtsey ; 
 ' chaloupe ' and ' sloop ; ' ' nourish ' and ' nurse ; 
 ' personality ' and ' personalty ;' ' fantasy ' and 'fancy ; 
 ' triumph ' and ' trump ' (the wi?iJimg card ^) ; ' hap 
 pily ' and ' haply ; ' ' ordinance ' and ' ordnance ; 
 ' shallop ' and ' sloop ;' ' brabble' and ' brawl ;' ' syrup 
 and ' shrub ; ' ' balsam ' and ' balm ; ' ' dame ' and 
 ' dam ; ' ' cape ' and ' cap ; ^ ' nighest ' and ' next ; 
 ' poesy ' and ' posy ; ' ' manoeuvre ' and ' manure ; 
 and, older probably than any of these, ' other ' and 
 ' or ; ' — or with the dropping of the first letter or letters 
 ' history ' and ' story ; ' ' harbour ' and ' arbour ; ' 
 ' escheat ' and ' cheat ; ' ' estate ' and ' state ; ' — or 
 with a dropping of the last syllable, as ' Britany ' and 
 ' Britain ; ' ' crony ' and ' crone ; ' — or, without losing 
 a syllable, with more or less stress laid on the close : 
 ' regiment ' and ' regimen ; ' ' corpse ' and ' corps ; ' 
 ' bite ' and ' bit ; ' ' dame ' and ' dam ; ' ' sire ' and ' sir ; ' 
 ' land ' or ' laund ' and ' lawTi ; ' ' suite ' and ' suit ; ' 
 ' swinge ' and ' swing ; ' ' gulph ' and ' gulp ; ' ' launch ' 
 and ' lance ; ' ' wealth ' and ' weal ; ' ' stripe ' and ' strip ; ' 
 ' borne ' and ' born ; ' ' glaze ' and ' glass ; ' ' stave ' 
 
 * See Latimer's famous Sermon on Cards, where ' triumph 
 and ' trump ' are interchangeably used. 
 
IV. 07te Wo7^d becomes two. 159 
 
 and ' staff ; ' '■ clothes ' and • cloths ; ' ' palatine ' and 
 ' paladin.' Or sometimes a slight internal vowel-change 
 finds place, as between ' dent ' and ' dint ; ' ' rant ' and 
 ' rent ' (a ranting actor tears or rends a passion to tat- 
 ters) ; ' creak ' and ' croak ; ' ' fleet ' and ' float ; ' ' lill ' 
 (Spenser) and ' loll ; ' ' reel ' and ' roll ; ' ' cross ' and 
 * cruise ; ' * sleek ' and ' slick ; ' ' sheen ' and ' shine ; 
 ' shriek ' and ' shrike ; ' ' peck ' and ' pick ; ' ' peak 
 ' pique ' and ' pike ; ' ' snip ^ ' sneap ' and ' snub ; ' ' plot 
 and ' plat ; ' ' weald ' and * wold ; ' ' drip ' and ' drop ; 
 ' wreathe ' and * writhe ; ' ' spear ' and ' spire ^ (' the 
 last spire of grass/ South) ; ' trist ' and ' trust ; ' ' band 
 ' bend ' and ' bond ; ' ' cape ' and ' cope ; ' ' tip ' and 
 ' top ; ' ' slant ' and ' slent ' (now obsolete) ; ' sweep 
 and ' swoop ; ' ' wrest ' and ' wrist ; ' * neb ' and ' nib ; 
 'gad' (now surviving only in gadfly) and 'goad; 
 ' complement ' and ' compliment ; ' ' spike ' and ' spoke; 
 ' tamper ' and ' temper ; ' ' spatter ' and ' sputter ; 
 ' flatter ' and ' flutter ; ' ' ragged ' and ' rugged ; 
 ' gargle ' and ' gurgle ; ' ' strake ' ' streak ' and ' stroke ; 
 ' snake ' and ' sneak ' (both crawl) ; ' deal ' and ' dole; 
 ' gaggle ' (this is now commonly spelt ' cackle ') and 
 ' giggle ; ' ' scrabble ' and ' scribble ; ' ' flacker ' (now 
 obsolete) and ' flicker ; ' ' gourmand ' and ' gormand ; ' 
 ' sip ' ' sop ' ' soup ' and ' sup ; ' ' prank ' and ' prink ' 
 (now obsolete) ; ' clack ' ' click ' and ' clock ; ' ' tetchy ' 
 and ' touchy ; ' ' sauce ' and ' souse ; ' ' spill ' and 
 ' spoil ; ' ' halt ' and ' hold ; ' ' vendor ' ' and ' vender ; ' 
 ' visitor ' and * visiter ; ' ' neat ' and ' nett ; ' ' steed ' 
 and ' stud ; ' ' than ' and ' then ; ' ^ ^ grits ' and 
 
 * On these words see a good discussion in English Retraced, 
 Cambridge, 1862. 
 
i6o Gains of the English Language. Lect. 
 
 ' grouts ; ' '■ spirt ' and ' sprout ; ' ' preen ' and ' prune ; ' 
 ' master ' and ' mister ; ' ' allay ' and ' alloy ; ' ' ghastly ' 
 and ' ghostly ; ' ' parson ' and ' person ; ' ' cleft ' and 
 ' clift ' (now written ' cliff ') ; ' travel ' and ' travail ; ' 
 ' troth ' and ' truth ; ' ' pennon ' and ' pinion ; ' ' quail ' 
 and ^ quell ; ' ' metal ' and ' mettle ; ' ' ballad ' 
 and ' ballet ; ' ' chagrin ' and ' shagreen ; ' ' can ' and 
 ' ken ; ' ' Francis ' and ' Frances ; ' ^ ' chivalry ' and 
 '■ cavalry ; ' 'elf and ' oaf ; ' ' thrash ' and ' thresh ; ' 
 
 * lose ' and ' loose ; ' ' taint ' and ' tint ; ' ' mode ' and 
 ' mood/ Sometimes the difference is mainly or en- 
 tirely in the initial consonants, as between ' phial ' 
 and ' vial ; ' ' bother ' and ' pother ; ' ' bursar ^ and 
 
 * purser ; ' ' thrice ' and ' trice ; ' ' fitch ' and ' vetch ; ' 
 ' strinkle ' (now obsolete) and ' sprinkle ; ' ' scabby ' 
 and ' shabby ; ' ' scatter ' and ' shatter ; ' ' scuffle ' and 
 ' shuffle ; ' ' chattel ' and ' cattle ; ' ' chant ' and ' cant ; ' 
 ' shrub ' and ' scrub ; ' ' champaign ' and ' campaign ; ' 
 ' zealous ' and 'jealous ; ' ' channel ' and ' kennel ; ' 
 ' quay ' and ' key ; ' ' fat ' and ' vat ; ' ' fan ' and ' van ; ' 
 ' thrill ' ' trill ' and ' drill ; ' — or in the consonants in 
 the middle of the word, as between ' cancer ^ and 
 ' canker ; ' ' nipple ' and ' nibble ; ' ' tinkle ' and 
 'tingle;' 'tittle' and 'title;' 'latter' and 'later;' 
 ' price ' and ' prize ; ' ' consort ' and ' concert ; ' while 
 sometimes the change embraces the initial consonant 
 as well, as in ' pipe' and ' fife.' 
 
 ' The appropriating of ' France's ' to women and ' Franc/s ' 
 to men is quite modem ; it was formerly as often Sir Franc<:s 
 Drake as Sir Francz's, while Fuller {Holy State, b. iv. c. 14) 
 speaks of Franc/s Brandon, eldest daughter of Charles Brandon, 
 Duke of Suffolk ; and see Ben Jonson, Nro) Inn, Act ii. 
 Sc. I. 
 
IV. One Word becomes tiuo. 1 6 1 
 
 Or a word is spelt now with a final k and now widi 
 a final ch ; out of this variation two different words 
 have been formed, with, it may be, other slight 
 differences superadded ; thus is it with ' poke ' and 
 ' poach ; ' ' dyke ^ and ' ditch ; ' ' stink ' and ' stench ; ' 
 ' prick ' and ' pritch ' (now obsolete) ; ' milk ' and 
 ' milch ; ' ' break ' ' breach ' and ' broach ; ' ' lace ' and 
 ' latch ; ' ' stick ' and ' stitch ; ' ' lurk ' and ' lurch ; ' 
 ' bank ' and ' bench ; ' ' stark ' and ' starch ; ' * wake ' 
 and ' watch/ So too ' t ' and ' d ' are easily ex- 
 changed ; as in ' clod ' and ' clot ; ' ' vend ' and ' vent ; ' 
 ' brood ' and ' brat ; ' ' sad ' and ' set ; ' ' card ' and 
 ' chart ; ' ' medley ' and ' motley.' Or there has grown 
 up, beside the accurate pronunciation, a popular as 
 well ; and this in the end has formed itself into 
 another word ; thus it is with ' puck ' (now obsolete) 
 and ' pug ; ' ' alembic ' and ' limbeck ; ' ' achievement ' 
 and ' hatchment ; ' ' housewife ' and ' hussey ; ' ' grand- 
 father ' and ' gaffer ; ' 'grandmother ' and ' gammer ; 
 ' henaper ' and ' hamper ; ' ' puisne ' and ' puny ; 
 ' patron ' and ' pattern ; ' ' tight ' and ' taut ; ' ' eti 
 quette ' and ' ticket ; ' ' eremite ' and ' hermit ; 
 ' spital' (hospital) and ' spittle ' (house of correction) 
 ' accompt ' and ' account ; ' ' polity ' and ' policy ; 
 'donjon' and 'dungeon;' 'nestle' and 'nuzzle 
 (now obsolete) ; ' Egyptian ' and ' g}'psy,' ' gipsen 
 (Spenser) being the middle term between these 
 ' Bethlelem ' and ' Bedlam ; ' ' Pharaoh ' and ' faro 
 (this game being so called because the winning card 
 bore the lik-eness of the Egyptian king) ; ' exemplar 
 and ' sampler ; ' ' procuracy ' and ' proxy ; ' ' dolphin 
 and ' dauphin ; ' ' iota ' and ' jot ; ' ' synodsman ' and 
 ' sidesman.' 
 
 M 
 
1 62 Gains of the English I.angiLage. Lect. 
 
 Other changes cannot perhaps be reduced exactly 
 under any of these heads ; as between ' ounce ' and 
 ' inch ; ' ' errant ' and ' arrant ; ' ' slack ' and ' slake ; ' 
 ' twang ' and ' tang ; ' ' cross ' and ' crutch ; ^ ' valet ' 
 and Warlet;' 'simper' and 'simmer;' 'slow' and 
 ' slough ; ' ' bow ' and ' bough ; ' ' hurl ' and ' whirl \ ' 
 ' hew ' and ' hough ; ' ' dies ' and ' dice ^ (both plurals 
 of ' die ') ; ' plunge ' and ' flounce ; ' ' knop ' and 
 'knob;' ^ ^gg^ and 'edge;' 'staff' and 'stave;' 
 ' scull ' ' school ' and ' shoal ; ' ' frith ' and ' firth ; ' 
 ' wretchlessness ' and ' recklessness ; ' ' benefit ' and 
 ' benefice.' ' Or, it may be, the difference is in the 
 spelling only, appreciable by the eye, but escaping 
 altogether the ear. It is thus with ' draft ' and 
 ' draught ; ' ' plain ' and ' plane ; ' ' coign ' and ' coin ; ' 
 ' flower ' and ' flour ; ' ' check ' and ' cheque ; ' ' straight ' 
 and ' strait ; ' ' ton ' and ' tun ; ' ' road ' and ' rode ; ' 
 
 ' A singularly characteristic trait of Papal policy once turned 
 upon the fact that ' beneficium' contained in itself both 'benefice' 
 and 'benefit.' Pope Adrian the Fourth writing to Frederick 
 Barbarossa to complain of certain conduct of his, reminded the 
 Emperor that he had placed the imperial crown upon his head, 
 and would willingly have conferred even greater 'beneficia' 
 upon him than this. Had this been allowed to pass, it would 
 no doubt have been afterwards appealed to as an admission on 
 the' Emperor's part, that he held the Empire as a feud or fief 
 (for ' beneficium ' was then the technical word for this, though 
 the meaning has much narrowed since) from the Pope — the veiy 
 point in dispute between them. The word was indignantly re- 
 pelled by the Emperor and the whole German nation, whereupon 
 the Pope appealed to the etymology, that ' beneficium ' was but 
 * bonum factum,' and protested that he meant no more than to 
 remind the Emperor of the various 'benefits' which he had 
 done him (Neander, Kirch. Geschichte, vol. v. p. 318). 
 
IV. One Word becomes two. 163 
 
 ' throw ' and ' throe ; ^ * wrack ' and ' rack ; ' ' gait ' 
 and ' gate ; ' ' hoard ^ and ' horde ; ' ' knoll ' and 
 ' noil ; ' ' chord ' and ' cord ; ' ' drachm ' and ' dram ; ' 
 ' license ' and ' licence ; ' ' sergeant ' and ' serjeant ; ^ 
 ' mask ' and ' masque ; ' ' break ' and ' brake ; ' ' vil- 
 lain ' and ' villein ; ' ' discreet ' and ' discrete.' 
 
 Now, if you will put the matter to proof, you will 
 find in almost every case that there has attached 
 itself to the different forms of a word a modification 
 of meaning more or less sensible, that each has won 
 an independent sphere of meaning, which remains 
 l^eculiarly its own. Thus ' divers ' implies difference 
 only, but ' diverse ' difference with opposition ; thus 
 the several Evangelists narrate the same event in 
 ' divers ' manners, but not in ' diverse.' ' Antique ' is 
 ancient, but ' antic ' is this same a.ncient regarded as 
 overlived, out of date, and so in our days grotesque, 
 ridiculous ; and then, with a dropping of the reference 
 to age, the grotesque or ridiculous alone. ' Human ' 
 is what every man is, ' humane ' is what every man 
 ought to be ; for Johnson's suggestion that ' humane ' 
 is from the French feminine ' humaine,' and ' human ' 
 from the masculine, is contrary to all the analogies of 
 language. '■ Ingenious ' expresses a mental, ' ingenu- 
 ous ' a moral excellence. A gardener ' prunes ' or 
 trims his trees, properly indeed his vines {^xovigncr), 
 birds ' preen ' or trim their feathers. We ' allay ' wine 
 with water : we ' alloy ' gold with platina. ' Bloom ' 
 is a finer and more delicate efflorescence even than 
 ' blossom ; ' thus the ' bloom/ but not the ' blossom,' 
 of the cheek. It is now always 'clots' of blood and 
 * clods ' of earth ; a ' float ' of timber, and a ' fleet ' of 
 ships ; men ' vend ' wares, and ' vent ' complaints. ' A 
 
1 64 Gains of the English Language. Lect. 
 
 curtsey ' is one, and that merely an external, manifes- 
 tation of 'courtesy.' 'Gambling' maybe, as with a 
 fearful irony it is called, //<^j, but it is nearly as distant 
 from ' gambolling ' as hell is from heaven. Nor would 
 it be hard, in almost every pair or larger group of 
 words which I have adduced, to detect shades of 
 meaning which one word has obtained and not the 
 other. ^ 
 
 ' The same happens in other languages. Thus in Greek 
 apadcfxa and avdd-(]jxa both signify that which is devoted, 
 though in very different senses, to the higher powers ; Bipaosy 
 boldness, and Qpdaos, temerity, were at first but different spell- 
 ings of the same woi^d ; so too ypiiros and yp7(pos, e0os and ^6os, 
 ^pvKw and IBpvx(^ '- and probably ofieXhs and o^oKhs, re^xos and 
 To7xos, (Tophs and aupos. In Latin ' penna ' and ' pinna ' differ 
 only in form, and signify alike a ' wing ; ' while yet ' penna ' 
 has come to be used for the wing of a bird, ' pinna ' (the diminu- 
 tive, ' pinnaculum,' giving us ' pinnacle ') for that of a building ; 
 so is it with ' Thrax ' a Thracian, and 'Threx' a gladiator ; with 
 ' codex ' and ' caudex ; ' ' forfex ' and ' forceps ; ' ' anticus ' and 
 ' antiquus;' 'celeber' and 'creber;' 'infacetus' and 'inficetus;' 
 ' mulgeo ' and ' mulceo ; ' ' providentia, ' ' prudentia,' and ' pro- 
 vincia ; ' ' columen ' and ' culmen ; ' ' coitus ' and 'coetus ; ' 
 ' jegrimonia ' and ' cerumna ; ' ' Lucina ' and ' luna ; ' ' cohors ' 
 and 'cors;' 'navita' and 'nauta;' 'vertex' and 'vortex.' It 
 is the same in German with ' rechtlich ' and ' redlich ; ' 
 ' schlecht ' and ' schlicht ; ' ' golden ' and ' gulden ; ' ' hofisch ' 
 and ' hiibsch ; ' ' ahnden ' and ' ahnen ' (see a very interesting 
 notice in Grimm's Woj-terbjick) ; ' biegsam ' and ' beugsam ; ' 
 ' fiirsehung ' and ' vorsehung ; ' ' deich ' and ' teich ; ' ' trotz ' and 
 ' trutz ; ' * born ' and ' brunnen ; ' ' athem ' and ' odem : ' in 
 French with 'hamois,' the armour or 'harness' of a soldier, 
 and ' harnais ' of a horse ; with ' foible ' and ' faible ; ' with 
 'Zephire' and 'zephir ; ' with 'chaire ' and ' chaise,' the latter 
 having been at the first nothing else but a vicious and affected 
 pronunciation of the former, and with many more. 
 
IV. Words strive to be homo-oeneoiLs. 1 6 s 
 
 There is another very sensible gain which the 
 language has made, although of a different kind alto- 
 gether. For a long time past there has been a 
 tendency to bring the component parts of a word into 
 linguistic harmony, so that it shall not any longer be 
 made up of a Saxon prefix or suffix, joined to a Latin 
 root, but shall be all homogeneous ; and if Latin \\\ 
 the body of the word, then such throughout. This 
 evidently was not the case with ' unsatiable,' ' un- 
 glorious,' ' undiscreet,' ' uncredible,' 'unvisible,' 'un- 
 tolerable,' ' unreligious ' (all in Wiclif) ; which have 
 now severally given place to ' insatiable,' ' inglorious,' 
 ^indiscreet,' and the rest; while ' untimely,' 'unwitting,' 
 and many more, in which there existed no such dis- 
 cord between the parts, remain as they were. In the 
 same way 'unpure' (Barnes) has been replaced by 
 '■ impure,' ' unfirm ' (Shakespeare) by ' infirm,' ' un- 
 eftectual ' (the same) by ' ineffectual,' ' unmoveable ' 
 (Authorized Version) by ' immoveable,' ' unnoble ' 
 (Drayton) by 'ignoble,' ' unimitable ' (Sidney) by 'in- 
 imitable,' ' unmeasurable ' (North) by 'immeasurable,' 
 '■ unreverent ' (the same) by ' irreverent,' ' unvincible ' 
 (the same) by 'invincible,' 'uncapable' (Hooker) by 
 'incapable.' 'unpatient' (Coverdale) by 'impatient,' 
 ' unpartial ' (Jackson) by ' impartial,' ' undecent ' 
 (Cowley) by ' indecent,' ' uncessant ' (Milton) by 'in- 
 cessant,' ' unactive ' (the same) by ' inactive,' ' un- 
 properly ' (Ascham) by ' improperly.' ' Unpossible,' 
 which is the correct reading of our Authorized Version 
 at Matt. xvii. 20 ; xix. 26, and throughout, has been 
 silently changed into ' impossible ;' 'unperfect,' how- 
 ever, still remains (Ps. cxxxix. 16). In the same way 
 'unhonest' (Holland) and 'unhonestly' (Coverdale) 
 
1 66 Gains of the English Language, lect. 
 
 have given place to ' dishonest ' and ' dishonestly/ 
 ' misorderly ' (the same) to ' disorderly/ ' miscontent ' 
 (Golding) to ' discontent.' Here and there, but very 
 rarely, the tendency has been in the opposite direc- 
 tion — to create these anomalies, not to remove them. 
 Thus Shakespeare's ' incertain ' has given place to 
 ' uncertain,' while Milton's ' inchastity ' (prose), ' in- 
 grateful/ to the less correct ' unchastity,' ' ungrateful ; ' 
 ' immusical ' (Jackson) to ' unmusical,' ' illimited ' 
 (Field) to 'unlimited.' 
 
 And as with the prefix, so also it has fared with 
 the suffix. A large group of our Latin words for a long 
 while had not a Latin, but a Saxon termination. We 
 have several of these in the Bible and in the Prayer 
 Book ; ' pureness,' for example, ' frailness,' ' disquiet- 
 ness/ * perfectness,' and ' simpleness.' ' Pureness ' 
 may perhaps still survive ; but for the others we have 
 substituted ' frailty ' (recalled it, we may say, for it 
 was already in I^i'ers Ploughman), ' disquietude,' ' per- 
 fection,' ' simplicity.' The same has happened with a 
 multitude of others ; ' jolliness ' (Chaucer) has given 
 way to 'jollity;' 'poverness' i^Piers PloiigJwian) to 
 ' poverty/ ' gayness ' (Shakespeare) to ' gaiety,' ' sub- 
 tleness ' (Sidney) to ' subtlety,' ' fertileness ' (the same) 
 to 'fertihty,' ' ableness' (Spenser) to 'ability,' 'fervent- 
 ness' (Coverdale) to 'fervency,' 'cruelness' (Golding) 
 to ' cruelty,' ' desolateness ' (Andrewes)to ' desolation; ' 
 ' desperateness ' (Fuller) to ' desperation; ' ' partialness ' 
 (Frith) to 'partiality;' ' spiritualness,' 'vainness,' ' ac- 
 tiveness,' ' realness,' ' vulgarness,' ' immoralness ' (all 
 in Rogers), severally to 'spirituality,' 'vanity,' 'activity, 
 ' reality,' ' vulgarity,' ' immorality ; ' ' stableness ' 
 (Coverdale) to ' stabiHty; ' ' doubleness ' and ' grave- 
 
IV. Words strive to be homogeneoiis. 167 
 
 ness' (Shakespeare) to 'duplicity' and 'gravity;' 
 ' chasteness ' (Chapman) to ' chastity,' ' iinequalness ' 
 (J. Taylor) to 'inequality,' 'solemnness' (Shakespeare) 
 to 'solemnity,' 'dejectedness' (Bishop Hall) to 'dejec- 
 tion,' ' insensibleness ' (Manton) to ' insensibiHty;' 
 ' splendidness,' ' famousness ' (both in H. More) to 
 'splendour,' 'fame.' ' Furiousness,' ' terribleness,' 
 ' irresistibleness ' (Fuller), ' valiantness,' ' insatiable- 
 ness,' ' rigorousness,' have all been felt to be words 
 ill put together, and have silently been dropped ; nor 
 would it be difficult to add immensely to this list. 
 We might, I think, have very well consented to want 
 ' inerrancy,' used by Mr. Gladstone as a variation of 
 ' infallibility ; ' while yet it is certainly an improve- 
 ment on ' inerrableness,' employed by some of our 
 elder divines. Thus too, though we have not at this 
 day altogether rejected words in which the Frencli 
 termination ' able ' is combined with a Saxon root, as 
 ' unspeakable ' and the like, still there has been an 
 evident disposition among us to diminish their num- 
 ber. There were once far more of these, as ' findable,' 
 ' unlackable,' ' ungainsayable ' (all in Pecock), ' match- 
 able ' (Spenser), ' mockable ' (Shakespeare), ' wound- 
 able ' (Fuller), ' speakable ' (Milton), than there are 
 now. ' The rejection of these hybrid words,' as has 
 been well said,^ ' from the modern vocabulary is 
 curious, as an instance of the unconscious exercise 
 of a lingTiistic instinct by the English people. The 
 objection to such adjectives is their mongrel charac- 
 ter, the root being Saxon, the termination Romanic ; 
 
 ^ Marsh, Origin and History of the English Langicagv, 
 P- 475- 
 
1 68 Gains of the English Language. Lect. 
 
 and it is an innate feeling of the incongruity of such 
 aUiances, not the speculative theories of philologists, 
 which has driven so many of them out of circulation.' 
 But changes not unlike to those which I have just 
 noted have come over words, where there was no such 
 inducement arising from a sense of incongruity in 
 their component parts ; where, on the contrary, they 
 were already homogeneous in the sources from which 
 they were derived. In these instances the language 
 seems, so to say, to have hesitated for a while before 
 it made up its mind which suffix it would employ, and 
 has often in later times rejected one which in earlier* 
 it appeared disposed to adopt, and in the stead of 
 this adopted another. The suffix ' ness,' which, as we 
 just now saw, has lost its hold on a great many Latin 
 words, wath which it certainly had no right to be 
 joined, has more than made good these losses by 
 gains in other directions. Many words that ended 
 for a while in ' ship," now end in ' ness,' as ' gladship ' 
 {Onmiliwi), ' mildship,' ' meekship,' ' idleship' (all in 
 ITali Meidejihad)^ ' goodship ' (see Stratmann), ' gen- 
 tleship ^ (Ascham), ' guiltiship ' (Geneva Bible) ; which 
 are now severally ' gladness,' ' mildness,' ' meekness,' 
 ' idleness,' 'goodness,' 'gentleness,' and 'guiltiness.' 
 * Cleanship ' and ' cleanness ' were both found in our 
 Early English ; but the latter has proved too strong 
 for the former; even as 'business ' for 'busiship.' More 
 numerous are those which, terminating once in ' head' 
 or 'hood,' have finally settled down with that same ter- 
 mination. I adduce a few, ' wearihede,' ' holihede,' 
 ' newhede,' ' godlihede,' ' swifthede,' '.greenhede,' 'vile- 
 hede,' 'bitterhed,' 'bHsedhede' {^X^m The Ayenbite); 
 ' giddyhed ' (Old English), ' wickedhed,' ' pensivehed,' 
 
IV. Chaiiged Siiffixes of Words. 1 69 
 
 ^ lowlihed ' (all in Chaucer) ; ' manlihed/ ' noblehed ' 
 (both in The Tale of Melusine); ' comelihed' (Gower), 
 'onehed/ ' worldlihood' (Pecock); 'fulsomehed,' 'fair- 
 hed' (both in King Horn); 'sinfulhed,' ' rightvvisehed,' 
 ' chasthed,' ' tamehed ' (all in The Story of Genesis) ; 
 'wantonhed,' ' evenhood ' {F?'ompto7'iii7n Parviilo- 
 runi); ' fulhed/ 'mightihed,' ' cursedhed,' 'filthehed,' 
 ' dmnkenhed/ ' nakedhed ' (all in Wiclif ) ; ' heedless- 
 hood/ ' seemlihed/ ' drearihed,' ' drowsihed,' ' liveli- 
 hed/ ' goodlihed/ ' beastlihed ' (all in Spenser). In 
 place of these we have ' weariness,' ' holiness/ and so 
 on with the rest. 
 
 Then, again, words not a few, once ending in 
 ' head ' or ' hood,' have relinquished this in favour of 
 ^ship ;' thus ' postlehead ' (Wiclif), now 'apostleship,' 
 ^ disciplehood,' ' headhood ' (both in Pecock), ' ap- 
 prenticehood ' (Shakespeare), have all done this. 
 Others, but they are fewer, for ' hood ' have taken 
 ' dom ; ' thus ' Christenhood' (Pecock) is ' Christen- 
 dom ' now ; ' thralhed ' is ' thraldom ; ' or for ' ric,' 
 which survives only in 'bishopric' (' hevenriche,' or 
 kingdom of heaven, ' eortheric,' or kingdom of earth 
 \_Orniuium\ having long since disappeared), have 
 taken the same ; thus ' kingryke ' {Fields Ploughman) 
 or ' kunneriche ' {^Proclamation of Henry III.) is 
 ' kingdom ' now. ' Ship ' too has given way, but 
 rarely, to Mom;' thus ' heathenship ' (Layamon) to 
 * heathendom.' As between ' head ' and ' hood,' 
 which are variations of the same form, the latter has 
 seriously encroached on the domain once occupied 
 by the former. I quote a few instances, ' childbed,' 
 ' manhed,' 'womanhed,' ' bretherhed ' (all in Chaucer); 
 ^ falsehed ' (Tyndale), ' widowhed ' (Sibbald's Glos- 
 
1 70 Gains of tJie English Langjiage. Lect. 
 
 sary)\ in all of which 'head' has now given way to 
 ' hood.' I can adduce no instances in which the 
 opposite tendency, ' head ' taking the place of ' hood/ 
 has displayed itself. Then also many adjectives end- 
 ing in ' ful' have changed this for 'ly' (=like); thus 
 ' gastful,' ' loveful,' ' grisful ' (all in Wiclif), are severally 
 now ' ghastly/ ' lovely/ ' grisly.' I shall note elsewhere 
 the extensive perishing of adjectives ending in ' some.' 
 Many of these, however, still survive, but with some 
 other suffix — often with one which brings their com- 
 ponent parts into linguistic harmony with one another; 
 thus ' humoursome ' survives in ' humorous,' ' labour- 
 some ' in ' laborious,' ' clamoursome ' in ' clamorous,' 
 ' adventuresome ' (this however has been revived by 
 Keats), in ' adventurous ; ' or sometimes where no 
 such motive of making the word all of one piece can 
 be traced, as in ' hatesum/ which is now ' hateful,' 
 ' friendsome,' which is now ' friendly,' ' mirksome ' 
 (Spenser), which is now ' murky/ and ' thoughtsome,' 
 v\'hich is now ' thoughtful.' This chapter in the history 
 of our language has hitherto attracted almost no atten- 
 tion. No catalogues of these words, so far as I know, 
 have yet been so much as attempted. 
 
 Let me trace, before this lecture comes to an end, 
 the history of the rise of some words in the language, 
 noting briefly the motives which may have first in- 
 duced their creation or adoption, the resistance which 
 they may have met, the remonstrances against them 
 which were somictimes made, the authors who first 
 introduced them. It is a curious chapter in the his- 
 tory of the language, and even a few scattered con- 
 tributions to it will not be without their value. 
 
IV. Stncism, Stdcide. 171 
 
 Sometimes a word has been created to supply an 
 urgent want, to fill up a manifest ^ap in the language. 
 For example, that sin of sins, the undue love of self, 
 with the postponing of the interests of all others to 
 our own, being a sin as old as the Fall, had yet for a 
 long time no word to express it in English. Help 
 was first sought from the Greek, and ' philauty ' 
 {(j)LXavTia) more than once put forward by our scholars; 
 but it found no popular acceptance. This failing, 
 men turned to the Latin ; one writer proposing to 
 supply the want by calling the sin ' suicism,' and the 
 man a ' suist,' as one seeking /lis own things (' sua'); 
 but this with no better success ; and our ethical ter- 
 minology was here still incomplete, till some of the 
 Puritan divines, drawing on native resources, devised 
 ' selfish ' and ' selfishness,^ words to us seeming ob- 
 vious enough, but which yet are little more than two 
 hundred years old. A passage in Racket's Life of 
 Archbishop Williams marks the first rise of ' selfish,' 
 and the quarter in which it rose : 'When they [the 
 Presbyterians] saw that he was not selfish (it is a 
 word of their own new mint),' &c.^ In VVhitlock's 
 Zootoniia^ there is another indication of its novelty : 
 ' If constancy may be tainted with this selfishness (to 
 use our neiiu woi^dings of old and general actings).' 
 It is Whitlock who in his Grand Schismatic, or Suist 
 Anatomized, first puts forward the words ' suist ' and 
 ' suicism.' ^ ' Suicism ' had not in his time the obvious 
 objection of resembling ' suicide ' too nearly, and 
 
 ' Part II. p. 144. - 1654, D. 364. 
 
 ^ ' Ichsucht,' a favourite word of Jean Paul, has altogether 
 failed to find allowance in German, I am not aware of any 
 other writer who has used it. 
 
172 Gains of the English Language, Lect. 
 
 being liable to be confused with it ; for ' suicide ' did 
 not exist in the language till some twenty years later. 
 Its coming up is marked by this protest in Phillips' 
 New World of lVo7'ds, 3rd edit., 167 1 : ' Nor less to 
 be exploded is the word ^^ siadde," which may as 
 well seem to participate of s^/s a sow, as of the 
 pronoun si/z.' In the Index to Jackson's Works^ pub- 
 lished two years later, it is still ' suicidium ' — ' the 
 horrid suicidiwn of the Jews at York.' ^ 
 
 I should greatly like to see a collection, as com- 
 plete as the industry of the collectors could make it, 
 of all the notices in our literature, which serve as 
 indications of the first appearance of new words in 
 our written or spoken language. These notices are 
 of the most various kinds. Sometimes they are 
 protests and remonstrances, as that just quoted, 
 against a new word's introduction ; sometimes they 
 are gratulations at the same ; while many, neither 
 approving nor disapproving, merely state, or allow us 
 to gather, the fact of a word's recent apparition. 
 Many such notices are brought together in Richard- 
 son's Dictionary? Neither are they wanting in Todd's 
 
 ^ ' Suicide ' is of later introduction into French, Genin 
 {Recreatiojis Philol. vol. i. p. 194) places it about the year 1738, 
 and makes the Abbe Desfontaines its first sponsor. He is 
 wi'ong, as is plain, in assuming that we borrowed it from the 
 French, and that it did not exist in English till the middle of 
 last centuiy. The French complain that the fashion of suicide 
 was borrowed from England. It is probable that the word 
 was so. 
 
 - Thus one from Lord Bacon under ' essay ; ' from Swift 
 under ' banter ; ' from Sir Thomas Elyot under ' mansuetude ; ' 
 from Lord Chesterfield under ' flirtation ; ' from The Spectator, 
 No. 537, under 'caricature ; ' from Roger North under 'sham ' 
 
IV. Early Notices of New Words. 173 
 
 Joluison. But the work is one which could only be 
 accomplished by many lovers of their native tongue 
 throwing into a common stock the results of their 
 several studies.^ Our Elizabethan dramatists would 
 
 [Appendix); from Diyden under 'mob,' 'philanthropy,' and 
 'witticism,' which last word Dryden claims for his own ; from 
 Evelyn under ' miss ; ' and from Milton under ' demagogue.' 
 
 * As a slight sample of what might be accomplished here by 
 the joint contributions of many, let me throw together references 
 to a few such passages, which I do not think have found their 
 way into our dictionaries. Thus add to that which Richardson 
 has quoted on 'banter,' another from The Tatler^ No. 230, 
 marking the disfavour with which it was regarded at the first. 
 On ' plunder ' there are two instructive passages in Fuller's 
 Church History^ b. xi. §§ 4, 33 ; and b. ix. § 4 ; and one in 
 Heylin's Animadversions thereupon, p. 196; on 'admiralty' 
 -see a note in Harington's Ariosto, b. xix, ; on 'maturity' Sir 
 Thomas Elyot's Governor, i. 22; and on 'industry' the same, 
 i. 23; on 'neophyte,' which made its first appearance in the 
 Rheims Bible, a notice in Fulke's Defence of the English Bible, 
 Parker Society's edition, p. 586, where he says 'neophyte is 
 neither Greek, Latin, nor English ; ' on ' fanatic ' a passage in 
 Fuller, Mixt Contemplations on these Times, § 50 ; and another 
 in Clarendon's Histoiy of the Rebellion, book x. § 82 ; on 
 'panorama,' and marking its recent introduction (it is not in 
 Johnson), a passage in Pegge's Anecdotes of the English Lan- 
 gnage, first published in 1803, but my reference is to the edition 
 of 1814, p. 306. On ' accommodate,' and supplpng a date for 
 its first coming into popular use, see Shakespeare's 2 Henry IV. 
 Act 3, Sc. 2 ; ' one of the perfumed words of the time ' Ben 
 Jonson calls it; on 'shrub,' Junius' Etymologicon, s. v. 
 'syrup;' on 'sentiment' and 'cajole,' Skinner, s. vv., in his 
 Etymologicon (' voxnuper civitate donata') ; on 'opera,' Evelyn's 
 Memoirs and Diary, 1827, vol. i. pp. 189, 190 ; on 'umbrella,' 
 Torriano's Italian Proverbs, 1666, p. 58 ; ' ombrella is a certain 
 canopy that in Italy we use to shelter ourselves with from the 
 sun and the rain.' North [Plutarch'' s lives, p. 469) speaks of 
 
174 Gains of the English Language, lect. 
 
 yield much ; even the worthless plays of Charles the 
 Second's time might prove of some service here. 
 Early classical scholars like Sir Thomas Elyot, who 
 wrote when Latin words, good, bad, and indiffer- 
 ent, were pouring into the language like a flood, and 
 who from time to time passed their judgment on 
 these j the early translators, Protestant and Roman 
 
 * fencers at unrebated foils whom the Romans call gladiafores.^ 
 ' Starvation' may have been an old word in Scotland, but it was 
 imknown in England until used by Mr. Dundas, the first Lord 
 Melville, therefore called ' Starvation Dundas,' in a debate on 
 American affairs in 1775 (see Letters of Horace Walpole and 
 Mann, vol. ii. p. 396, and Pegge's Anecdotes of the English 
 Language, 1814, p. 38). We learn from a protest in The 
 Spectator, No. 165, that 'pontoon,' 'fascine,' 'to reconnoitre,' 
 were in 1704 novelties, which under the influence of the frequent 
 bulletins were creeping into English. Cowper (1781) uses 
 ' superannuation, ' but using wonders if there be such a word. 
 Certainly he employs it not as we do now, but as signifying 
 decrepitude through age. The verb * to militate ' is not in 
 Johnson's Dictionary, and from a passage in Boswell, p, 656, 
 Croker's edition, 1 8 14, it is evident that it was in his estimate 
 at once new and affected. ' Avoid quaint terms as " originate," ' 
 is John Wesley's advice to his preachers. Bentham in 1797 
 speaks of ' international ' as a word ' new, though not inex- 
 pressive ; ' it is of his own coining, and deserves the welcome 
 v.-hich it has obtained. In Barlow's Cohnnbiad, published in 
 1807, we on this side of the Atlantic first made acquaintance 
 with the verb ' to utilize ; ' in a review of the poem in the 
 Edinburgh Reviezv, October, 1809, p. 25, there is an earnest, 
 but as it has proved an ineffectual, remonstrance against it. 
 ' Milleninal ' comes there, as an American novelty, under the 
 same condemnation ; but this it is not ; Henry More continually 
 employs it. ' Crass ' too, which the same Reviewer styles 
 ' radically and entirely new,' is employed by him, by Jeremy 
 Taylor and by Cudworth. 
 
IV. Early Notices of New Words. 175 
 
 Catholic, of the Bible, who when they had exhausted 
 more serious invective, fell foul of one another's Eng- 
 lish, and charged each other with bringing in new 
 and un-English words ; the Spectator^ the Tatler, the 
 Guardian, and even the second and third-rate imita- 
 tions of these, might all be consulted with advantage. 
 Famihar letters, as those of Gray or Cowper, would 
 yield something. Indeed it is hard to say beforehand 
 in what unexpected quarter notices of the kind might 
 not occur. 
 
 Let me observe that such a collection should include 
 passages which supply implicit evidence for the non- 
 existence of a word up to a certain date. It may be 
 urged that it is difficult, nay, often impossible, to prove 
 a negative ; yet when Bolingbroke wrote as follows, 
 it is certain that ' isolated ' did not exist in our lan- 
 guage : ' The events we are witnesses of in the course 
 of the longest life, appear to us very often original, 
 unprepared, signal, and iinrelative : If I may use such 
 a word for want of a better in English. In French I 
 would say isolcs' ' Compare Lord Chesterfield in a 
 letter to Bishop Chenevix, of date March 12, 1767 : 
 ' I have survived almost all my contemporaries, and 
 as I am too old to make new acquaintances, I find 
 myself isole.^ * Isolated,' says the British Critic, Oct. 
 1800, 'is not English, and we trust never will be.' 
 Fuller would have scarcely spoken of a 'meteor of 
 foolish fire,'^ if 'ignis fatuus/ which has now quite put 
 out ' firedrake,' the older name for these meteors, had 
 not been, when he wrote, still strange to the language, 
 or quite recent in it. So too when Sir Walter Raleigh 
 
 ' Notes and Queries, No, 226. "^ Cojjim. on Ruth, p. 38. 
 
176 Gains of the English Language . Lect. 
 
 s])oke of ' strange visions which are also called panici 
 iciTorcs^ ^ it is tolerably plain that ' panic ' was not yet 
 recognized among us. The use now of ' biland,' now 
 of ' demy-isle ' by Holland, makes it at least likely 
 that 'peninsula' hadnotyet been adoptedinto English. 
 i\\ like manner when the same author, translating 
 Pliny's long account of the sculptors and sculpture of 
 antiquity, never once uses the word ' sculptor,' but 
 always ' imager ' instead, one feels tolerably sure that 
 ' sculptor ' had not yet come into existence. The use 
 of ' noctambulones ' by Donne makes me pretty 
 certain that in his time ' somnambulist ' had not 
 been invented ; of ' engastrimythi ' by Holland, that 
 ' ventriloquist ' was still unknown ; not indeed but 
 that it is quite possible that for a while the words 
 should have existed side by side, and contended 
 which should live and which die. When Hacket ^ 
 speaks of * the cimici in our bedsteads,' these un- 
 savoury insects had scarcely appropriated to them- 
 selves the name which now they bear. When the 
 anonymous annotator on Spenser's Shepherd's Cale7idar 
 speaks of ' ethice ' (1)61^7)), we confidently conclude 
 that ' ethics ' had not yet got a footing in the lan- 
 guage. So, too, it is tolerably certain that ' amphi- 
 bious' was not yet English, when one writes in 
 (1618) : ' We are like those creatures calltd a /.icp I ft la, 
 which live in water or on land.' Fuller, somewhat 
 later, likens Edward IH., active on both elements, 
 to an ' amphibion.' ZwoXoyta, as the title of an 
 English book published in 1649, n^akes it clear that 
 
 ' Hisl. of ike World, iii. 5, 8. 
 
 ^ Life of Archbishop IVilliaiiis, vol. ii. p. 182. 
 
IV. Early Notices of New Words. 177 
 
 ' zoology' was not yet in our vocabulary, as l,i>i6(^vTov 
 (Jackson) proves the same for ' zoophyte,' eK\eKrik-oi 
 (Rust ;^ compare ' eclectici ' in Fuller) for ' eclectics,' 
 tvfpriixKTfxoQ (Jeremy Taylor) for 'euphemism,' deoKparla 
 (the same) for ' theocracy,' adeoi (Ascham) for 
 ' atheists,' t(py]i^£poi (Cowley) for ' ephemerals,' and 
 TTo\vQ£i(Tj.inQ (Gell ; it is a word of his own coining) 
 for ' polytheism.' ^ 
 
 * Funeral Sermon on yeremy Taylor. 
 
 - One precaution, let me observe, would be necessary in the 
 collecting, or rather in the adopting, of any statements about the 
 newness of a word — for the statements themselves, even when 
 erroneous, should be noted — namely, that no one's affirmation 
 ought to be accepted simply and at once as to this novelty, 
 seeing that all here are liable to error. Thus more words than 
 one which Sir Thomas Elyot indicates as new in his time, 
 'magnanimity' for example {The Governor, ii. 14), are frequent 
 in Chaucer. ' Sentiment,' which Skinner affirmed to have 
 only recently, in his own time, obtained the rights of Eng- 
 lish citizenship, continually recurs in the same. Ascham {The 
 School Master, p. 13, ed. 1863) evidently supposes that he is 
 the first to put * heady' and 'brainsick,' ' fit and proper words ' 
 as he declares them, into circulation ; which yet could scarcely 
 be the case. Wotton, using 'character,' would imply that it 
 was a novelty ; he will use it, he says, because ' the word hath 
 gotten already some entertainment among us' {Survey of Educa- 
 tion, p. 321) ; it is of constant recurrence in Spenser, and is 
 employed by Wiclif. A correspondent of Sir William Jones, 
 writing in 1 781, condemns 'replete' as an objectionable 
 novelty ; it may be found in Wiclif s Bible (Phil. iv. 18) ; in 
 the earlier play of King John, 'My life "replete" with rage 
 and tyranny ; ' and in Spenser. Charles Boyle, in the controversy 
 on the Epistles of Phalaris, in which he so unluckily engaged 
 (' impar congressus Achilli'), excepts against Bentley's use, 
 among other words, of the following, 'concede,' 'idiom,' 
 ' putid,' ' repudiate,' ' timid,' and ' vernacular ; ' ' every one of 
 
 N 
 
178 Gains of the Ejiglish Language, lect. 
 
 It is not merely new words, but new uses of old 
 ones, which should thus be noted, with the time of 
 their first coming up. Thus Sir John Davies' epigram 
 • Of a Gull ' tells us when this ' new term,' as he calls 
 it, was first transferred from foolish birds to foolish 
 men.^ Or take the two following quotations, in proof 
 that our use of ' edify ' and ' edification ' first obtained 
 general currency among the Puritans ; this from 
 Oldham : 
 
 ' The graver sort dislike all poetry, 
 Which does not, as they call it, edify ; ' 
 
 and this from South : ' All being took up and busied, 
 some in pulpits and some in tubs, in the grand work 
 of preaching and holding forth, and that of edification^ 
 as the word then went,' &:c. A passage from Miss 
 Burney's C<?a7/(2, published in 1782, shows that the use 
 of ' ticket ' for visiting card was then quite a novelty, 
 and little better than slang. Here too the evidence may 
 
 which,' Bentley replies, 'was in print before I used them, and 
 most of them before I was born' {Preface, p. 54). Gray 
 actually believed that Dryden had invented 'array,' 'to 
 furbish ' (both in our English Bible), ' crone ' (in Chaucer), 
 'disarray,' 'mood,' 'roundelay' (all in Spenser), 'beldam,' 
 'beverage,' 'trim,' 'wayward' (all in Shakespeare). Cowper 
 writing in 1 793 speaks of ' to accredit ' as a ' new diplomatic 
 term.' It is used by Skelton in his version oi Don Quixote. In 
 Notes and Queries, No. 255, there is a useful catalogue of recent 
 neologies in our speech, while yet at least half a dozen in the 
 list have not the smallest right to be so considered. 
 
 ^ Of how many words of a character similar to this we should 
 like to know the occasion and cause of their first obtaining that 
 novel use w^hich evidently they have obtained ; as for example 
 a 'macaroni,' a 'blood,' a 'mohawk,' a 'tarpaulin,' a 'pro- 
 moter ' ( = an informer), or, to come nearer to our times, a 
 *lion,' a 'tiger,' a 'bore,' a 'salt,' a 'phiHstine.' 
 
IV. Nezv Uses of Old Words. 179 
 
 not be positive, but negative. Thus when I read in 
 Fuller of ' that beast in the Brazile which in fourteen 
 days goes no further than a man may throw a stone, 
 called therefore by the Spaniards //^r/Z/io;,' I am toler- 
 ably certain that the ai, as the natives call it, had not 
 yet obtained among us the name of ' sloth,' which now 
 it bears. 
 
 A few observations in conclusion on the deliberate 
 introduction of words to supply felt omissions in a 
 language, and the limits within which this or any other 
 conscious interference with it is desirable or possible. 
 Long before the time when a people begin to reflect 
 upon their language, and to give an account to them- 
 selves either of its merits or defects, it has been fixed 
 as regards structure in immutable forms ; the sphere 
 in which any alterations or modifications, addition to 
 it, or subtraction from it, deliberately devised and 
 carried out, are possible, is very limited indeed. The 
 great lavv^s that rule it are so firmly established that 
 almost nothing can be taken from it, which it has 
 got ; almost nothing added to it, which it has 7iot got. 
 It will travel indeed in certain courses of change ; but 
 it would be almost as easy for us to alter the course 
 of a planet as to alter these. This is sometimes a 
 subject of regret with those who see what appear to 
 them manfest defects or blemishes in their language, 
 and at the same time ways by which, as they fancy, 
 these could be remedied or removed. And yet this 
 is well ; since for once that these redressers of real or 
 fancied wrongs, these suppliers of things lacking, 
 would mend, we may be tolerably confident that ten 
 times, probably a hundred times, they would mar ; 
 
i8o Gains of the English Language, lect. 
 
 letting go that which would better have been retained ; 
 retaining that which was overlived and out of date ; 
 and in many ways interfering wdth those processes of 
 a natural logic, which in a living language are ever- 
 more working themselves out. The genius of a lan- 
 guage, unconsciously presiding over all its transforma- 
 tions, and conducting them to definite issues, will 
 prove a far truer and far safer guide, than the artificial 
 wut, however subtle, of any single man, or of any 
 association of men. For the genius of a language is 
 the sense and inner conviction entertained by the 
 mass of those who speak it, of what it ought to be, 
 and of the methods by which it will most nearly 
 approach its ideal perfection ; and while a pair of eyes, 
 or half a dozen pairs of eyes, may see much, a million 
 of eyes will certainly see more. 
 
 It is only with the words, and not with the forms 
 and laws of a language, that any interference is pos- 
 sible. Something, indeed much, may here be accom- 
 plished by wise masters, in the rejecting of that which 
 deforms or mars, the allowing and adopting of that 
 which will complete or enrich. Those who have set 
 such objects before them, and who, knowing the 
 limits of the possible, have kept within these, have 
 sometimes wrought no little good. No language 
 affords a better proof and illustration of this than the 
 German. ^Mien the patriotic Germans began to wake 
 up to a consciousness of the enormous encroachments 
 which foreign languages, Latin, French, and Italian, 
 had made on their native tongue, the lodgements 
 which these had therein effected,^ and the danger 
 
 1 See on these my Gustavus Adolphus in Germany, pp. 127- 
 130. 
 
IV. Limits of Interference. i8i 
 
 which lay so near, that it should cease to be a lan- 
 guage at all, but only a mingle-mangle, a motley 
 patchwork of many tongues, without any unity or 
 inner coherence, various Societies, at the beginning 
 and during the course of the seventeenth century, set 
 themselves earnestly to the task of recovering what 
 was lost of their own, and at the same time expelling, 
 in part at least, that which had intruded from abroad ; 
 and this with excellent results. 
 
 But more effectual than these learned Societies 
 were the efforts of single writers, several of whom in 
 this merited eminently well of Germany and of the 
 German tongue.^ Numerous words now accepted by 
 the whole nation are yet of such recent introduction 
 that it is possible to designate the writer who first 
 substituted them for some affected Gallicism or ped- 
 antic Latinism. Thus to Lessing his fellow-country- 
 men owe the substitution of ' zartgefiihl ' for ' delica- 
 tesse,' of ' wesenheit ' for ' essence.' It was he who 
 suggested to the translator of Sterne's Scjitwieiital 
 Journey^ ' empfindsam,' as a word which would corre- 
 spond to our ' sentimental \ ' he too who recalled 
 ' bieder,' with which every schoolboy is familiar now, 
 from the forgetfulness of centuries. Voss (1786) first 
 employed ' alterthiimlich ' for ' antik,' Winckelmann 
 ' denkbild ' for ' idee.' Wieland was the author or 
 reviver of a multitude of excellent words, for some of 
 which he had to do earnest battle at the first ; such 
 
 ' There is an admirable essay by Leibnitz Avith this view 
 {Opera, vol. vi. part 2, pp. 6-51) in French and German, with 
 this title, Considerations stir la Culture et la Perfection de la 
 Lanme Alleinande. 
 
1 82 Gains of the English Language, lect. 
 
 were ' seligkeit/ ' anmuth/ ' entziickung/ ' festlich,' 
 ' entwirren/ with many more. But no one was so 
 zealous for the cleansing of the temple of German 
 speech from unworthy intruders as Campe, author of 
 the well-known Dictionary. For ' maskerade/ he was 
 fain to substitute ' larventanz/ for ' ballet ' ' schautanz/ 
 for ' lauvine ' ' schneesturz/ for 'detachement' 'abtrab,' 
 for ' electricitat ^ 'reibfeuer.' It was a novelty \vhen 
 Biisching called his great work on geography ' Erd- 
 beschreibung ' (1754) instead of ' Geographie ; ' while 
 * schnellpost ' for ' diligence/ ' zerrbild ' for ' carica- 
 tur/ are also of recent introduction. Of ' worterbuch ' 
 itself Jacob Grimm tells us he can find no example 
 dating earlier than 17 19. In Dutch the same pro- 
 cess has gone forward. ' Schoonsicht ' has been sub- 
 stituted for 'belvedere/ 'heelmeester ' for 'chirurg/ 
 and so on. 
 
 Some of these reformers, it must be owned, pro- 
 ceeded with more zeal than knowledge, while others 
 did what in them lay to make the whole movement 
 absurd — even as there ever hang on the skirts of a 
 worthy movement, be it in literature or politics or higher 
 things yet, some who by extravagance and excess 
 contribute their little all to bring ridicule and con- 
 tempt upon it. Thus in the reaction against foreign 
 interlopers, and in the zeal to rid the language of 
 them, some would have disallowed words consecrated 
 by longest use ; thus Campe, who in the main did 
 such good service here, desired to replace ' apostel ' 
 by 'lehrbote ; ' or they understood so little what words 
 deserved to be called foreign, that they would fain 
 have gotten rid of such words as these, ' vater/ ^ mut- 
 
IV. New German Words. i"^ 
 
 J 
 
 ter,' ' wein,' ' fenster/ 'meister,' 'kelch;'^ the three 
 former belonging to the Teutonic dialects by exactly 
 the same right as they do to the Latin and the Greek ; 
 while the other three have been naturalized so long 
 that to propose at this day to expel them is as though, 
 having passed an Alien Act for the banishment of all 
 foreigners, we should proceed to include under that 
 name, and drive from the kingdom, the descendants 
 of the French Protestants who found refuge here 
 when Rochelle was taken, or even of the Flemings 
 who came over in the time of our Edwards. One 
 notable enthusiast proposed to create an entirely new 
 nomenclature for all the mythological personages of 
 the Greek and Roman pantheons, although these, one 
 would think, might have been allowed, if any, to re- 
 tain their Greek and Latin names. Cupid was to be 
 ' Lustkind/ Flora ' Bluminne,' Aurora ' Rothin ; ' in- 
 stead of Apollo schoolboys were to speak of ' Sing- 
 hold;' instead of Pan of 'Schaflieb ;' instead of 
 Jupiter of ' Helfevater,' with other absurdities to 
 match. We may well beware (and the warning ex- 
 tends much further than to the matter in hand) of 
 making a good cause ridiculous by our manner of 
 supporting it, by acting as though exaggerations on 
 one side were best redressed by equal exaggerations 
 on the other. 
 
 ' Fuchs, Zur Geschichte und Beurtheiliing der Fremdzvorter 
 ivi Dt'iitschen, Dessau, 1842, pp. 85-91, Compare Jean Paul, 
 yEsthetik, §§ 83-85. 
 
1 84 Dirniiuttions of English. lect. 
 
 LECTURE V. 
 
 DIMINUTIONS OF THE EN GUSH lANGUAGE. 
 
 I OBSERVED in my latest lecture but one that 
 it is the essential character of a living language 
 to be in flux and flow, to be gaining and losing, 
 assimilating to itself and rejecting from itself; and 
 indeed no one who has not given some attention 
 to the subject, would at all imagine the enormous 
 amount of these gains, and not less the enormous 
 amount of these losses — or, for reasons already stated, 
 and because all that comes is not gain, and all is 
 not loss that goes, let us say the enormous additions 
 and diminutions which in a few centuries find place 
 in that domain of a language which is mainly liable 
 to these changes — I mean its vocabulary, in its 
 Dictionary, that is, as contrasted with its Grammar. 
 It is not indeed with a language altogether as it is 
 with a human body, of which the component parts 
 are said to be in such unceasing flux and flow, with 
 so much taken from it, and so much added to it, that 
 in a very few years no particle of it remains un- 
 changed. It is not, I say, exactly thus. There are 
 stable elements, and, so to speak, constant quantities 
 in a language, which determine its character — the 
 group, that is, or family to which it belongs — secure 
 its identity, and attest its continuity. Such is the 
 
V. La7ig2tagcs not Iimnoi^tal. 185 
 
 grammar of a language, being as it were the osseous 
 structure and framework of it ; which changes slowly, 
 and in certain leading characteristics changes not at 
 all ; in all this contrasting strongly with the vocabu- 
 lary, which is as the flesh that clothes these bones ; 
 and in which we may trace a never-ceasing change, a 
 coming and going of its constituent parts, which is 
 nothing less than astonishing, when we take means a 
 little to measure its amount. Of acquisitions which 
 our language has made something has been said 
 already. Of the diminutions it is now our business 
 to speak. 
 
 It is certain that all languages must, or at least 
 all languages do in the end, perish. They run their 
 course ; not all at the same rate, for the tendency to 
 change is different in different languages, both from 
 internal causes (mechanism and the like), and also 
 from causes external to the language, and laid in the 
 varying velocities of social progress and social decline; 
 but so it is, that, sooner or later, they have all their 
 youth, their manhood, their old age, their decrepi- 
 tude, their final dissolution. Not indeed that they 
 disappear, leaving no traces behind them, even when 
 this last has arrived. On the contrary, out of their 
 death a new life comes forth ; they pass into other 
 fomis, the materials of which they were composed are 
 organized in new shapes and according to other laws 
 of life. Thus, for example, the Latin perishes as a 
 living language ; and yet perishes only to live again, 
 though under somewhat different conditions, in the 
 four daughter languages, French, Italian, Spanish, 
 Portuguese ; or the six, if we count the Provengal and 
 Wallachian. Still in their own proper being they pass 
 
1 86 Diminutions of English. lect. 
 
 away. They are dead records of what they were in 
 books ; not living men who speak them any more. 
 Seeing then that they thus perish, the possibiUties of 
 this decay and death must have existed in them from 
 the beginning. 
 
 Nor is this all ; but in such strong-built fabrics as 
 these, the causes which thus bring about their final 
 dissolution must have been actually at work very long 
 before the results are so visible as that they cannot 
 any longer be mistaken. Indeed, very often it is with 
 them as with states, which, while in some respects 
 they are knitting and strengthening, in others are 
 already unfolding the seeds of their future and, it may 
 be, still remote dissolution. Equally in these and 
 those, in states and in languages, it w^ould be a serious 
 mistake to assume that all up to a certain point and 
 period is growth and gain, while all after is decay and 
 loss. On the contrary, there are long periods during 
 which growth in some directions is going hand in 
 hand with decay in others ; losses in one kind are 
 being compensated, or more than compensated, by 
 gains in another ; during which a language changes, 
 but only as the bud changes into the flower, and the 
 flower into the fruit. A time indeed arrives when the 
 growth and gains, becoming ever fewer, cease to 
 constitute any longer a compensation for the losses 
 and the decay, which are ever becoming more ; when 
 the forces of disorganization and death at work are 
 stronger than those of life and order. But until that 
 crisis and turning-point has arrived, we may be quite 
 justified in speaking of the losses of a language, and 
 may esteem them most real, without in the least 
 thereby implying that its climacteric is passed, and its 
 
V. Character of Gains and Losses. 187 
 
 downward course begun. This may yet be far dis- 
 tant : and therefore when I dwell on certain losses 
 and diminutions which our own has undergone or is 
 undergoing, you will not suppose that I am presenting 
 it to you as now travelling that downward course to 
 dissolution and death. I have no such intention. If 
 in some respects it is losing, in others it is gaining. 
 Nor is everything which it lets go, a loss ; for this too, 
 the parting with a word in which there is no true help, 
 the dropping of a cumbrous or superfluous form, may 
 itself be sometimes a most real gain. Enghsh is un- 
 doubtedly becoming different from what it has been ; 
 but only different in that it is passing into another 
 stage of its development ; only different, as the fruit 
 is different from the flower, and the flower from the 
 bud ; not having in all points the same excellencies 
 which it once had, but with excellencies as many and 
 as real as it ever had ; possessing, it may be, less of 
 beauty, but more of usefulness ; not, perhaps, serving 
 the poet so well, but serving the historian and philo- 
 sopher better than before. 
 
 With one observation more I will enter on the 
 special details of my subject. It is, indeed, only a 
 saying over again what I said at the outset of this 
 lecture. The losses or diminutions of a language 
 differ in one respect from the gains or acquisitions — 
 namely, that those are of two kinds, while these are 
 only of one. The gains are only in words ; it never 
 puts forth in the course of its later evolution a new 
 power ; it never makes for itself a new case, or a new 
 tense, or a new comparative. But the losses are both 
 in words and in powers. In addition to the words 
 which it drops, it leaves behind it, as it travels onward. 
 
i88 DiviimUions of English. lect. 
 
 cases which it once possessed ; renounces the employ- 
 ment of tenses which it once used ; forgets its dual ; 
 is content with one termination both for masculine 
 and feminine, and so on. Nor is this a peculiar 
 feature of one language, but the universal rule in all. 
 ' In all languages.' as has been well said, ' there is a 
 constant tendency to relieve themselves of that pre- 
 cision which chooses a fresh symbol for every shade 
 of meaning, to lessen the amount of nice distinction, 
 and detect as it were a royal road to the interchange 
 of opinion.' For example, a vast number of languages 
 had at an early period of their development, besides 
 the singular and plural, a dual number, some even a 
 trinal, which they have let go at a later. But what I 
 mean by a language renouncing its powers I hope to 
 make clearer in my next lecture. This much I have 
 here said on the matter, to explain and justify a division 
 which I propose to make, considering first the losses 
 of the English language in wof'ds, and then mpowe7's, 
 the former constituting my theme in the present 
 lecture, and the latter in one that will succeed it. 
 
 And first, there is going forward a continual extinc- 
 tion of the words in our language — as indeed in every 
 other. We hardly realize to ourselves the immense 
 losses which we have suffered, till we take the extinct 
 words of some single formation, and seek to make as 
 complete a list of these as we can. Then indeed we 
 perceive that they are thick as the autumn leaves in 
 Vallombrosa. Take, for instance, the adjectives with 
 the suffix ' ful.' The list which I offer does not make 
 the remotest claim to completeness ; while yet, I am 
 sure, it is longer than any list of the surviving words 
 
V. Extmct Words with Suffix ' ful! 189 
 
 of the same formation which could be gotten together. 
 It is as follows : ' abuseful ' (Sussex dialect), ' aidful ' 
 (Daniel), ' amazeful ' (Sidney), ' angerful ' (Sylvester), 
 ' annoyful ' (Chaucer), ' availful ' (Florio), ' avengeful,' 
 ' aviseful ' (both in Spenser), ' barful ' (Shakespeare), 
 'hateful' (Sidney), 'hatful' (=fruitful, Drayton), 
 'bedeful' (=prayerful. Old EngHsh), 'beliefful' (Old 
 Enghsh), 'behoveful,' 'blameful' (both in Shakes- 
 peare), ' blushful ' (Thomson), ' bourdful ',' (Wiclif ), 
 'breathful' (Spenser), 'causeful' (Sidney), 'chanceful' 
 (Spenser), ' chargeful ' (Shakespeare), ' charmful ' 
 (Cowley), ' checkful ' (Udal), ' choiceful ' (Spenser), 
 ' comfortful ' (Levins), ' conceitful ' (Spenser), ' con- 
 temptful' (Feltham), ' crimeful' (Shakespeare), 'curs- 
 ful ' (Wiclif), ' dangerful ' (Udal), ' dareful ' (Shakes- 
 peare), 'darkful' (Wiclif), ' deathful' (Shakespeare), 
 ' debateful' (Spenser), 'deedful' (but this has been 
 revived by Tennyson), ' delayful' (Chapman), 'dern- 
 ful' (Spenser), ' desertful' (Beaumont and Fletcher), 
 'desireful' (Udal), 'despairful,' ' deviceful' (both in 
 Spenser), 'devoutful' (Daniel), ' discordful ' (Spenser), 
 ' diseasefuF (Bacon), ' disgustful ' (Beaumont and Flet- 
 cher), ' dislikeful ' (Spenser), ' dispatchful ' (Pope), 
 ' distractful ' (Heywood), 'distressful' (Shakespeare), 
 ' doomful ' (Spenser), ' doughtful ' (= doughty, Shakes- 
 peare), ' dreamful' (Mickle), ' dueful,' ' dureful' (both 
 in Spenser), ' earnful ' (P. Fletcher), 'excessful' 
 (Wiclif), 'expenseful' (Beaumont and Fletcher), 
 'eyeful' (= observant, Yorkshire dialect), 'faultful' 
 (Shakespeare), 'feastful' (Milton), 'feckful' (still in 
 provincial use), 'fenceful' (West), ' fiendful' (Mar- 
 lowe), 'fishful' (Drayton), ' foresightful ' (Sidney), 
 ' formful ' (Thomson), ' fraudful ' (Shakespeare), 
 
IQO Diminutions of English, lect. 
 
 ' friendful ' (Wiclif), ' friskful ' (Thomson), ' gameful ' 
 (Chapman), 'gastful,' 'gazeful,' 'gladful,' 'griefful' 
 (all m Spenser), ' gripful ' ( = avaricious, Whitby dia- 
 lect), ' grisful ' (Wiclif), ' groanful,' ' grudgeful ^ (both 
 in Spenser), ' gustful ' (Jeremy Taylor), ' heapful * 
 (Holland), Mieryful' (WicHf), 'hirkfur (Levins), 
 ' increaseful ' (Shakespeare), ' intreatful ' (Spenser), 
 ' lampful ' (Sylvester), ' lateful,' ' leveful,' ' lightful ' (all 
 inWichf), ' livefur (North), ' hstful,' 'lothful,^ Move- 
 ful ' (all in Spenser), ' masterful ' (Holland), ' mazeful * 
 (Spenser), ^ vi\^^^i\A^l7Tei's PloiigJwian)^ ^ jnenseful ' 
 (= decorous, Durham dialect), ' mightful ' {To7ci?iley 
 Afyste7'ies), 'mischiefiful' (Pa}Tiell), 'mistful ' (Shakes- 
 peare), ' moistful ' (Sylvester), ' molestful ' (Barrow), 
 ' moneful ' (Spenser), ' noiful ' (Wiclif), ' noiseful ' 
 (Dr}^den), ' offenceful ' (Shakespeare), 'pensiful' ( = 
 pensive, Sir T. Elyot), ' plaintful ' (Shakespeare), 
 ' poisonful ' (Gurnall), ' praiseful ' (Sidney), ' prideful ' 
 . (Whitehead), ' quemful ' (Richard Rolle de Hampole), 
 ' rageful ' (Sylvester), ' rebukeful ' (Levins), ' recourse- 
 ful ' (Drayton), ' rentful ' (Fte?'s PlougJimati)^ ' redeful ' 
 (Zayamon), ' resentful' (Pope), 'resistful' (C.Brooke), 
 ' ruthful ' (Shakespeare), ' scareful ' (Golding), ' scath- 
 ful ' (Shakespeare), ' scentful ' (Browne), ' senseful ' 
 (Sylvester), ' shapeful ' (Chapman), ' shenful ' (Wichf), 
 ' smartful' (Florio), ' spaceful ' (Sandys), 'speedful' 
 rWiclif), ' spelful' (Hoole), ' spendful' (Cecil), 'spleen- 
 ful' (Chapman), 'stomachful' (Hall), ' streamful ' 
 (Drayton), ' strengthful ' (Wiclif), ' strifefur (Spenser), 
 ' supportful ' (Chapman), ' surgeful ' (Drayton), ' sus- 
 pectful' (Howell), 'teenful' {Destruction of Troy), 
 ' teemful ' (we still speak of the tee f?iing tscrth, Old Eng- 
 lish), ' tideful,' ' timeful ' (both in Wiclif), ' threatful ' 
 
V. Extinct Wo7^ds with Suffix ^ less! 191 
 
 (Spenser), ' toothfur (Massinger), ' toyful' (Donne), 
 ' tradeful,' ' tressful ' (both in Sylvester), ' tristful,' 
 ' unbashful ' (both in Shakespeare), ' unbelieveful ' 
 (Wiclif), ' unscathful ' (6^;7;/7////;;/), 'urgeful,' 'vaunt- 
 ful' (Spenser), 'wailful' (Shakespeare), ' weepful ' 
 (Wiclif), ' worthful' (6^/7// /////;;/), 'wordful' (see Bos- 
 worth), ' wrackful ' (Chapman), 'wreakful ' (Spenser), 
 'wTetchful' (Wiclif). As against these numerous 
 losses I can only set ' prayerful,' which has found its 
 way from the conventicle to the church ; 'nookful,' if 
 indeed this, on Browning's authority ('nookful Nor- 
 mandy '), shall obtain a footing among us, and ' mis- 
 chanceful,' which is good and which also claims him 
 for its author. 
 
 We may draw together, as a complement to these, 
 the words ending with the privative 'less,' whose places 
 in like manner now know them no more. Here is not a 
 complete list, but a contribution to one : 'aidless' (Shakes- 
 peare), 'bandless' (Christ. Brooke), 'bateless' (Shakes- 
 peare), ' blushless ' (Gent), ' bookless' (Fuller), ' bowel- 
 less ' (Sir T. Browne), ' bragless ' (Shakespeare), ' bread- 
 less ' {Piers Ploughman)^ ' bribeless ' (C. Tourneur), 
 ' brinkless ' (Golding), ' busyless,' ' chaffless,' ' charac- 
 terless^ (all in Shakespeare), 'cheekless' (MarstonJ, 
 ' chiefless' (Pope), ' choiceless ' (Hammond), 'clothless ' 
 (Chaucer), ' cloyless,' ' confineless,' ' contentless,' 'crest- 
 less,' ' crimeless,' ' cureless ' (all in Shakespeare), ' debt- 
 less ' (Chaucer), ' deedless ' (Shakespeare), ' designless ' 
 (Boyle), ' easeless'( Donne), 'effectless' (Shakespeare), 
 'envyless' (Lord Brooke), 'exceptless' (Shakespeare), 
 ' favourless ' (Spenser), ' fineless' (Shakespeare), 'finite- 
 less ' (Sir T. Browne), ' forceless ' (Shakespeare), ' for- 
 tuneless ' (Spenser), ' gainless ' (Hammond), ' griefless ' 
 
192 Dimiimtioiis of English. Lect. 
 
 (Sylvester), ' giiardless ' (South), ' guerdonless ' (Sir 
 T. Malor}^), 'hateless^ (Sidney), 'heatless^ (Beau- 
 mont and Fletcher), ' heirless ' (Shakespeare), ' herber- 
 less ' (Wiclif), ' honeyless ' (Shakespeare), ' honourless ' 
 (Phaer), 'hostless' (Spenser), ' jeopardless' (Udal), 
 ' importless,' 'issueless,' 'kindless ' (all in Shakespeare), 
 ' knightless ' (Spenser), ' landless,' ' languageless,' 
 ' lightless ' (all in Shakespeare), ' lotless ' (Sir T. Ma- 
 lory), ' lustless ' (Spenser), ' markless,' ' matterless^ 
 (both in Whitby dialect), ' modestless ' (Shakespeare), 
 'moneyless' (Holland), 'napless' (Shakespeare), 'na- 
 tureless^"7Sadler), ' neigHbourless ' (Lord Brooke), 
 'noteless' (Beaumont and Fletcher), ' occasionless ' 
 (Jackson), ' offenceless,' ' opposeless,' ' orderless ' (all 
 in Shakespeare), ' parentless ' {Min-orfor Magistrates), 
 ' phraseless,' ' pithless ' (both in Shakespeare), ' plea- 
 sureless ' (Golding), 'prideless' (Chaucer), 'reasonless' 
 (Milton), ' recureless ' (Chapman), ' redeless ' (Sidney), 
 'reputeless ' (Shakespeare), 'respectless ' (Ben Jonson), 
 'rindless' (Old Enghsh), 'rockless' (Dryden), 'rule- 
 less ' (Spenser), ' sackless ' (North Country), ' sateless ' 
 (Young), ^ seemless ' (Chapman), ' shunless ' (Shakes- 
 peare), ' sickless ' (Surrey), ' skilless ' (Shakespeare), 
 'smelless' (Beaumont and Fletcher), 'soundless' 
 (Shakespeare), ' spleenless ' (Chapman), ' steerless ' 
 (Donne), ' strengthless ' (Shakespeare), ' successless ' 
 (Pope), 'suspectless' (Beaumont and Fletcher), ' sword- 
 less ' (Sir T. Malory), ' termless ' (Spenser), ' timeless,' 
 ' titleless ' (both in Shakespeare), ' trustless ' (Gas- 
 coigne), 'wayless' (Golding), 'wareless' (Spenser), 
 'wenchless' (Shakespeare), 'wieldless' (Spenser), 
 'wifeless' (Sir T.Malory), 'wontless' (Spenser), 'word- 
 less ' (Shakespeare), ' workless ' (Sir T. More), 'wound- 
 less ' (Spenser), ' writless ' (Tuke). 
 
Extinction of Words. 193 
 
 When we ask ourselves what are the causes which 
 have led to this immense mortality, why in that great 
 struggle for existence which is going on here as in 
 every other domain of life, this still makes part of the 
 living army of words, while that has fallen dead, or 
 been dismissed to drag out an obscure provincial ex,- 
 istence ; why oftentimes one word has been displaced 
 by another, not, as it seems to us, better but worse ; 
 or, again, why certain families of words, or words 
 formed after certain schemes and patterns, seem ex- 
 posed to more than the ordinary chances of mortality, 
 it is not always easy to give a satisfactory answer to 
 these questions. Causes no doubt in every instance 
 there are. We can ascribe little here, if indeed any- 
 thing, to mere hazard or caprice. Hazard might cause 
 one man to drop the use of a word, but not a whole 
 people to arrive at a tacit consent to employ it no more ; 
 while without this tacit consent it could not have be- 
 come obsolete. Caprice, too, is an element which may 
 be eliminated from our calculations when we have to do 
 with multitudes ; for in such case the caprice of one 
 will traverse and defeat the caprice of another, leaving 
 matters very much where they were. But the causes 
 oftentimes are hard to discover ; they lie deep-hidden 
 in the genius of the language and in the tendencies of 
 it at particular periods, these affecting speakers and 
 writers who are quite unconscious of the influence thus 
 exercised upon them.^ Much here must remain un- 
 
 * Dwight {Mode}-n Phonology, 2nd series, p. 2o8) : * Great 
 silent, yet determinative laws of criticism, and so, of general 
 acceptance or condemnation, are ever at v^ork upon words, de- 
 ciding their position among mankind at large, as if before a 
 court without any appeal. Their action is certain, though un- 
 
 O 
 
194 Dmimutio7is of English. Lect. 
 
 explained ; but suggestions may be offered, which 
 shall account for some, though by no means all, of the 
 facts which here come under the eye. 
 
 And first, men do not want, or fancy that they do 
 not want, certain words, and so suffer them to drop 
 out of use. A language in the vigorous acquisitive 
 periods of its existence has generated, or has in other 
 ways got together from different quarters, a larger num- 
 ber of words, each, it may be, with its separate shade 
 of meaning, at all events with its separate etymology, 
 to connote some single object, than can be taken into 
 actual use ; more at any rate than the great body of 
 the speakers of a language, with their lazy mental 
 habits, are prepared to take up. Thus we speak at 
 this day of a ' miser,' and perhaps in popular language 
 of a 'hunks ' and a 'skinflint;' but what has become 
 of a 'gripe,' a 'huddle,' a 'snudge,' a 'chinch,' a 
 ' micher,' a ' pinchpenny,' a ' pennifather,' a 'nipcheese,' 
 a ' nipscreed,' a 'nipfartbing,' a ' clutchfist,' a 'kumbix' 
 (jjt^/Sti)? They have all or nearly all quite dropped 
 out of the living language of men, and, as I cannot 
 doubt, for the reason just suggested, namely, that they 
 were more and more various than men would be at 
 pains to discriminate, and having discriminated, to 
 employ.^ This same mental laziness causes words to 
 
 definable to our vision, like tlie seemingly blind laws of the 
 weather ; which yet, however multiplied in their scources, or 
 subtle in their action, rule infallibly not only the questions of 
 human labour and of human harvests, but also, to a great ex- 
 tent, those of human health, power, and enjoyment.' 
 
 * Diez {Gram. d. Roman. Sprachen, vol. i. p. 53) traces to 
 the same cause the disappearance in the whole group of Romanic 
 languages, of so many words which from their wide use in Latin 
 
V. Extinction of Wo7^ds. 195 
 
 fall out of use, which it has been a real loss in clear- 
 ness and precision to let go. An uncle on the father's 
 side, and an uncle on the mother's, are manifestly not 
 the same relation ; certainly the Romans did not so 
 account them, who for the first had ' patruus,' for the 
 second 'avunculus.' We too had once a several word 
 for mother's brother, ' eame,' the German ' oheim.^ It 
 was employed so late as by Drayton, but would be 
 unintelligible now. 
 
 In like manner the dialect which in that struggle 
 for existence has won the day, and become the classical 
 language of a people, will very rarely admit of more 
 than one word for one object ; all the others it ignores ; 
 which thus either fall out of use altogether, or at best 
 maintain an obscure provincial existence. Thus there 
 is hardly one of our familiar English birds which has 
 not two, it may be several, names by which in different 
 dialects it is known. Our woodpecker, for example, is 
 the ' specht ' (Holland), the ' woodspick ' (Golding), the 
 ' woodsprite,' the ' woodhack,' the 'pickatree,' the 'tree- 
 jobber,' the 'greenpeak,' the 'eatbee.' These are all the 
 names which I can bring together; but I feel quite sure 
 that I have not at all exhausted the names by which 
 locally the woodpecker is known. But the classical lan- 
 guage, which seeks to avoid confusion before everything 
 else, and has this much more at heart than the preser- 
 
 we might have expected to remain ; thus * arx ' was rendered un- 
 necessary by 'castellum,' ' equus ' by 'caballus,' 'gram en' by 
 'herba,' 'janua' by 'ostium' and 'porta,' ' sidus ' by 'astrum,' 
 'magnus' by 'grandis,' 'jjulcher' by 'bellus,' 'saevus' by 
 ' ferox,' and have thus vanished out of the languages descendeil 
 from the Latin. 
 
196 Dimimitions of E7iglisJi. lect. 
 
 vation of the superfluous wealth of the language, lets in 
 such cases all names disappear but one; as in instances 
 innumerable cases may be seen. 
 
 Let me indicate another cause of the disappearance 
 of words. Arts, trades, amusements in the course of 
 time are superseded by others. These had each more 
 or less a nomenclature peculiarly its own. But with 
 the disappearance of any one of these a large number of 
 words, which in the first instance were proper and pe- 
 culiar to it, will have vanished like^vise. Ships wear 
 armour now, but not men. With their ceasing to wear 
 it, how many words have for all practical purposes 
 ceased from among us. Words like ^ brigandine ' and 
 ' habergeon,' though they are found in our Authorized 
 Version of the Bible, are not merely unemployed, but 
 unintelligible for ninety-nine out of a hundred English 
 readers. Archery in all its more serious aspects is 
 now extinct ; and the group of words is not a small 
 one, which with it have ceased to belong to our 
 living language any more. How many readers would 
 have need of a glossary, if they would know so much 
 as what a ' fletcher ' is. ^ Or look at any old treatise 
 on hawking. What a multitude of terms are there 
 assumed as familiar to the reader, which have now 
 quite dropped out of our common knowledge. Nor 
 let it be urged that these can have constituted no 
 serious loss, seeing that they were only used within the 
 narrow circle, and comparatively narrow it must have 
 always been, of those addicted to this sport. This is 
 not the case. Of technical words a large number 
 travel beyond the sphere which is peculiarly their own; 
 
 ^ Marsh, Lectures on the English Language, 1S60, p. 267. 
 
V. Good Words extinct. 197 
 
 are used in secondary senses, and in these secondary 
 senses are everybody's words, however in their primary 
 sense they may remain the possession only of a few. 
 
 When I spoke just now of the extinction of such 
 a multitude of words, I did not, as you will have ob- 
 served already, refer merely to tentative words, can- 
 didates for admission into the language, offered to, 
 but never in any true sense accepted by it, such as 
 those of which I quoted some in an earlier lecture (see 
 p. no) ; I referred rather to such as either belonged 
 to its primitive stock, or, if not this, had yet been do- 
 miciled in it so long that they seemed to have found 
 there a lasting home. The destruction has reached 
 these quite as much as those. Thus not a few words 
 of the purest Old English stock, some having lived on 
 into the Elizabethan period or beyond it, have finally 
 dropped out of our vocabulary ; sometimes leaving a 
 gap which has never since been filled ; but their places 
 oftener taken by others which have come up in their 
 room. That beautiful word ' wanhope,' hope, that 
 is, which has wholly waned^ or despair, long held its 
 ground ; it occurs in Gascoigne ; being the latest sur- 
 vivor of a whole family of words which continued 
 much longer in Scotland than with us ; of which some 
 perhaps continue there still. These are but a few of 
 them : ' wanthrift ' for extravagance; ' wanluck,' 'wan- 
 weird ' or ' wanhap,' misfortune; ' wanlust,' languor ; 
 ' wanwit,' folly ; ' wangrace,' wickedness ; ' wantrust ^ 
 (Chaucer), diffidence ; ' wantruth ' (Metrical Homilies)^ 
 falsehood ; 'wanchance,' ill-luck. ' Skinker' (no very 
 graceful word), for cupbearer, is used by Shakespeare^ 
 and lasted on to Dryden's time and beyond it. Spen- 
 ser uses often ' to welk ' (welken) as to fade, ' to sty ' 
 
igS Dwiinutions of Eiiglish. lect. 
 
 as to mount, ' to hery ' as to glorify or praise, 'to halse' 
 as to embrace, ' teene ' as vexation or grief : Shakes- 
 peare 'to tarre' as to provoke, 'to sperr' as to en- 
 close or bar in. Holland has 'reise' for journey, 
 ' frimm ' for lusty or strong. ' To tind,' surviving in 
 ' tinder,' occurs in Bishop Sanderson ; ' to nimm ' 
 (nehmen) in Fuller. 'Nesh,' soft through moisture, 
 good Saxon-English once, still lives on in some of our 
 provincial dialects, with not a few of the other words 
 which I have just named. Thus 'leer' for empty, 
 ' heft,' that which only by an effort can be heaved up 
 (used by Shakespeare), ' to fettle ' (it is employed by 
 Swift), ' elenge,' a beautifuJ'^wora signifying lonely and 
 melancholy at once, are common on the lips cf our 
 southern peasantry to this day. 
 
 A number of vigorous compounds we have lost 
 and let go, or suffered to retire into obscure provincial 
 existence. Except for Shakespeare we might have 
 quite forgotten that young men of hasty fiery valour 
 wxre once named ' hotspurs ; ' and this even now is for 
 us rather the proper name of one than the designation 
 of all. ^ Austere old men, 'severe ancients' as Hol- 
 land describes them, such as, in Falstaff's words, ' hate 
 us youth,' were ' grimsirs ' or ' grimsires ' once (Massin- 
 ger) ; a foe that wore the semblance of a friend was a 
 ' heavy friend ; ' a mischief-maker a ' coal-carrier ; ' an 
 impudent railer a 'saucy jack ' (all these in Golding) ; 
 a cockered favourite was a ' whiteboy ' (Fuller) ; 
 a drunkard an ' aleknight,' a ' maltworm ; ' an old 
 woman an ' old-trot ; ' an ill-behaved girl a ' naughty 
 
 * See Holland, Livy, p. 922 ; Baxter, Life and Times, p. 39 ; 
 Rogers, Matrimojtial Honour, p. 233. 
 
V. Vigorous Compounds lost. 1 99 
 
 pack' (Golding), a ' lightskirts ' (Bishop Hall) ; a de- 
 pendant a ' hangby ; ' a soldier who of evil will (' malin 
 gre ') shirked his share of duty and danger a ' malin- 
 gerer ' — the word is familiar enough to military men, 
 but not in our dictionaries ; — a sluggard a ' slowback ; ' 
 banditti ' woodkerns ; ' an ignoble place of refuge a 
 ' creephole ' (Henry More) ; entertainments of»song or 
 music were ' earsports ' (Holland) ; a hideous concert of 
 all most discordant noises a ' black-sanctus ; ' well-meri- 
 ted chastisement ' whipping- cheer ' (Stubbs) ; pleasant 
 drink ' merrygodown ' (Golding). 'Double-diligent' 
 (Golding) was mischievously officious ; 'snoutfair' an 
 epithet applied to a woman who, having beauty, had 
 no other gifts, mental or moral, to commend her ; 
 ' mother-naked ' (revived by Carlyle), finds its explana- 
 tion at Job i. 21 ; i Tim. vi. 7. Who too but must 
 acknowledge the beauty of such a phrase as ' weeping- 
 ripe ' (Shakespeare), ready, that is, to burst into tears, 
 the 'crying-ripe' of Beaumont and Fletcher, the 
 aprioaKpvc of the Greeks ? 
 
 And as words, so also phrases are forgotten. 'From 
 the teeth outward,' to express professions which spring 
 from no root in the heart of him who makes them, has 
 evidently approved itself to Carlyle. How expres- 
 sive too are many other of the proverbial phrases 
 which we have suffered to fall through ; as for instance 
 ' to make a coat for the moon,' to attempt something 
 in its nature every way impossible ; ' to tread the shoe 
 awry,' to make ^ faux pas ; 'to play rex,' to domineer ; 
 ' to weep Irish,' to affect a grief which is not felt within, 
 as do the hired mourners at an Irish wake. But these 
 are legion, and quite impossible to enumerate, so that 
 we must content ourselves with the examples here given. 
 
200 Diminutions of English. lect. 
 
 An almost unaccountable caprice seems often to 
 preside over the fortunes of words, and to determine 
 which should live and which die. Of them quite as 
 much as of books it may be affirmed, habent sua fata. 
 Thus in instances out of number a word lives on as 
 a verb, but has perished as a noun ; we say ' to embar- 
 rass,' but no longer an ' embarrass ; " to revile,' but not, 
 with Chapman and Milton, a 'revile;' 'to dispose,' 
 but not a 'dispose;' 'to retire,' but not a 'retire' 
 (Milton) ; 'to wed,' but not a ' w^ed ; ' ' to angle,' but 
 not an ' angle ; ' ' to infest,' but we use no longer the 
 adjective 'infest.' Or with a reversed fortune a word 
 lives on as a noun, but has perished as a verb ; thus 
 as a noun substantive, a ' slug,' but no longer ' to slug,' 
 or render slothful ; a ' child,' but no longer ' to child ' 
 (' childi)ig autumn,' Shakespeare) ; an ' enterprise,' but 
 not ' to enterprise ' (Milton, prose) ; a ' rape,' but not 
 ' to rape ' (South) ; ' knowledge,' but not ' to know- 
 ledge ' (Coverdale) ; a ' rogue,' but not ' to rogue ; ' 
 ' malice,' but not ' to malice ; ' a * path,' but not ' to 
 path ' (Shakespeare) ; or as a noun adjective, ' serene,' 
 but not ' to serene,' a beautiful word, by us let go, as ' se- 
 reiner ' by the French -^ ' meek,' but not ' to meek ' 
 
 * How many words modern French has lost which are most 
 vigorous and admirable, the absence of which can only now be 
 supplied by a circumlocution or by some less excellent v/ord — 
 'Oseur,' * affranchisseur ' (Amyot), 'mepriseur,' ' murmurateur,' 
 
 * blandisseur ' (Bossuet), 'abuseur' (Rabelais), 'dcsabusement,' 
 
 * rancoeur,' are all obsolete at the present ; and so ' desaimer,' 
 to cease to love ('disamare' in Italian), 'guirlander,' 'steriliser,' 
 
 * blandissant,' ' ordonnement ' (Montaigne), with innumerable 
 others. La Bruyere in his Caradh-es, c. 14, laments the loss, 
 oftentimes inexplicable, of various excellent words in French. 
 
V. Extinction of Words. 201 
 
 (Wiclif); ' fond,' but not 'to fond ' (Dryden); ' dead/ but 
 not ' to dead;' 'intricate,' but ' to intricate ' (Jeremy 
 Taylor) no longer. So too we have still the adjective 
 'plashy,' but a 'plash,' signifying a wet place, no more. 
 Or again, the affirmative remains, but the negative 
 is gone ; thus ' scathful,' but not ' unscathful ' {Ormu- 
 lum); ' profit,' ' bold,' ' sad,' ' deadly,' but not any more 
 ' unprofit,' 'unbold,' 'unsad,' 'undeadly' (all in Wiclif);^ 
 ' cunning,' but not ' uncunning;' ' manhood,' ' wit,' 
 ' mighty,' ' tall,' ' strange,' but not ' unmanhood,' ' un- 
 wit,' ' unmighty,' ' untall,' ' unstrange ' (all in Chaucer); 
 
 * ghostly,' but not ' unghostly ' (Coverdale) ; ' dreadful,' 
 but not ' undreadful ' (Herrick) ; ' tame,' but not 
 ' untame ' (Jackson); 'buxom,' but not ' unbuxom ' 
 (Dryden); 'hasty,' but not ' unhasty ' (Spenser); 
 ' bashful,' but not ' unbashful; ' ' rightful,' but not ' un- 
 rightful ; ' ' secret,' but not ' unsecret ; ' ' pregnant,' 
 but"not 'unpregnant ;' 'doubtful,' but not 'undoubt- 
 ful;' ' tender,' but not ' untender ' (all in Shakespeare); 
 
 * worthies,' but not ' unworthies ' (Brereton ) ; ' blithe,' 
 but not ' unblithe ; ' ' idle,' but not ' unidle ' (Sidney); 
 ' base,' but not ' unbase ; ' ' quick,' but not ' unquick ' 
 (both in Daniel); 'glad,' but not ' unglad ' {Tozunky 
 Mysteries) ; ' useful,' but not ' unuseful ' (Massenger); 
 'ease,' but not 'unease' (Hacket) ; 'lust,' but not 
 ' unlust ' (Coverdale) ; ' repentance,' but not ' unre- 
 pentance; ' ' remission,' but not ' irremission ' (Donne); 
 ' science,' but not ' nescience ' (Glanvill) ; ' facile,' but 
 not ' difficile ' (Bacon) ; ' to know,' but not ' to un- 
 know ; ' ' to worship,' but not ' to unworship ' (both in 
 
 ' I had added ' unwisdom ' in former editions to these ; but 
 this I think we have got back. 
 
202 DimimUions of English. Lect. 
 
 Wiclif) ; ' to give,' but not ' to ungive ; ' ' to hallow,' 
 but not '■ to unhallow ' (Coverdale) ; ' to remember,' 
 but not ' to disremember ' (= to forget, and still com- 
 mon in Ireland). Or, with a variation the reverse of 
 this, the negative survives, while the affirmative is 
 gone ; thus ' wieldy ' (Chaucer) survives only in ' un- 
 wieldy ; ' ' couth ' and ' couthly ' (both in Spenser), 
 only in ' uncouth ' and ' uncouthly ; ' ' manerly ' in 
 ' unmanerly ' (Coverdale) ; ' nocent ' (Milton, prose), 
 in ' innocent ; ' ' speakable ' (Milton), in ' unspeakable;' 
 ' pregnable ' (Holland), in ' impregnable ; ' ' vincible ' 
 (Jeremy Taylor), in ' invincible ; ' ' ruly ' (Foxe), in 
 ' unruly ; ' ' gainly ' (Henry More), in ' ungainly ; ' 
 these last two were serviceable words, and have been 
 ill lost, 'gainly' indeed is still common in the West 
 Riding ; ' exorable ' (Holland) and ' evitable ' survive 
 only in ' inexorable ' and ' inevitable ; ' ' faultless ' 
 remains, but hardly ' faultful ' (Shakespeare) ; ' shape- 
 less,' but not ' shapeful ' (Chapman); ' semble ' (Foxe), 
 except as a technical law term, has disappeared, while 
 ' dissemble ' continues ; ' simulatioii ' (Coverdale) in 
 like manner is gone, but ' dissimulation ' remains. So 
 also of other pairs one has been taken, and one left ; 
 ' height,' or ' highth,' as Milton better spelt it, remains, 
 but 'lowth' (Becon) is gone; 'underling' remains, 
 but ' overling ' has perished ; ' beldam ' has kept its 
 ground, but not ' belsire.' ' Exhort ' continues, but 
 'dehort,' a word whose place 'dissuade' does not 
 exactly supply, has escaped us ; ' righteousness,' or 
 rightwiseness,' as once more accurately written, re- 
 mains, but ' wrongwiseness ' has been taken ; ' inroad ' 
 continues, but 'outroad' (Holland) has disappeared ; 
 * levant' lives, but ' ponent ' (Holland) has died ; ' to 
 
V, Grotips of Words PeiHsh. 203 
 
 extricate ' continues, but, as we saw just now, ' to 
 intricate ' does not ; so too ' parricide,' but not ' fili- 
 cide ' (Holland); 'womanish,' but not 'mannish' 
 (Shakespeare) ; ' to winter,' but not ' to summer ' 
 (Authorized Version). Again, of whole groups of 
 words formed on some particular scheme it may be 
 only a single specimen will survive. Thus ' gainsay ' 
 (= againsay) survives; but 'gaincope,' 'gainstand' 
 (Golding), 'gainstrive' (Foxe), and other similarly 
 formed words, exist no longer. ' Blameworthy,' ' note- 
 worthy,' 'praiseworthy,' 'seaworthy,' trustworthy,' are 
 perhaps the only survivors of a group that numbered 
 once ' crownworthy ' (Ben Jonson), ' deathworthy ' 
 (Shakespeare), ' japeworthy ' (Chaucer), ' kissworthy ' 
 (Sidney), ' painworthy ' (Spenser), ' shameworthy ' 
 (Wiclif), ' stalworthy,' or worth stealing, now ' stal- 
 wart ' (Skelton), ' thankworthy ' (English Bible), and 
 very probably more. In like manner ' foolhardy ' 
 alone remains out of at least five adjectives formed on 
 the same pattern; thus 'foollarge' {■= 'prodigal') 
 and 'foolhasty,' both found in Chaucer, lived on to the 
 time of Holland ; while ' foolhappy ' is in Spenser, and 
 ' foolbold ' in Bale. ' Laughing-stock ' we still use ; 
 but ' gazing-stock ' (English Bible), 'jesting-stock' 
 (Coverdale), ' mocking-stock ' (Sternhold and Hop- 
 kins), 'sporting-stock' (Udal), ' playing-stock ' (North), 
 'j aping-stock' {Old Efiglish Ser7?ion), 'pointing-stock,' 
 ' flouting-stock ' (both in Shakespeare), ' wondring- 
 stock ' (Coverdale), have all disappeared. Only ' bat- 
 tering-stock ' survives in some local dialects. ' Stedfast ' 
 remains, but 'bedfast' (= bedridden), 'handfast' 
 (= betrothed), 'homefast,' 'housefast' or confined to 
 the house, ' masterfast ' or engaged to a master (Skel- 
 
204 Diminutions of English. lect. 
 
 ton), ' rootfast,' ' shamefast/ ' trothfast ' (Cumbrian), 
 * weatherfast ' (Cleveland dialect), ' wordfast ' (see 
 Bosworth), with others, are all gone. We have ' twi- 
 light,' but ' twibir (=bipennis, Chapman), and ' twi- 
 fight ' (=duel), are extinct. 
 
 It is a real loss that the comparative ' rather ' should 
 now stand alone, having dropped alike the positive, 
 'rathe,' and the superlative 'rathest.' 'Rathe,' or 
 early, though a graceful word, and not fallen quite out 
 of popular remembrance, being embalmed in the 
 Lycidas of Milton, 
 
 ' And the rathe primrose, which forsaken dies, ' 
 
 might be suffered to share the common lot of so many- 
 others which have perished, though worthy to live ; 
 but the disuse of ' rathest ' is a real loss to the lan- 
 guage, and the more so, that ' liefest ' has gone too. 
 ' Rather ' expresses the Latin ' potius ; ' but ' rathest ' 
 being obsolete, we have no word, unless ' soonest ' 
 may be accepted as such, to express ' potissimum,' or 
 the preference not of one way over another or over 
 certain others, but of one over all ; which we therefore 
 effect by aid of various circumlocutions. Nor has 
 ' rathest ' been so long out of use, that it would be hope- 
 less to attempt to revive it. Sanderson, in his beau- 
 tiful sermon on the text, 'When my father and my 
 mother forsake me, the Lord taketh me up,^ puts the 
 consideration, ' why father and mother are named the 
 rathest^ and the rest to be included in them.' ^ 
 
 I observed just now that words formed on certain 
 patterns had a tendency to fall into disuse, and seem 
 
 ' For other passages in which ' rathest ' occurs see the State 
 Papers, vol. ii. pp. 92, 170. 
 
V. Morlality of Words. 205 
 
 exposed to more than the ordinary chances of mor- 
 tality. It has perhaps been thus with adjectives end- 
 ing in ' some/ the Anglo-Saxon and early English 
 ' sum/ the German ' sam ' (' friedsam/ ' seltsam ') ; and 
 reappearing as an independent word in 'same.' It is 
 true that of these many survive, as ' gladsome/ ' hand- 
 some/ 'wearisome/ ' buxom' ('bucksome' in our earlier 
 writers, the German ' beugsam ' or ' biegsam/ bend- 
 able, compliant) ; but of these far more than a rateable 
 proportion are nearly or quite extinct. Thus ' wan- 
 sum,' or sorrowful, is in the Story of Genesis ; while 
 in Wiclif 's Bible you may note ' lovesum,' ' hatesum,' 
 ' lustsum,' ' gilsum ' (guilesome), ' wealsum,' ' heavy- 
 sum,' ' lightsum,' ' delightsum ; ' of these ' lightsome ' 
 survived long, and indeed still survives in provincial 
 dialects ; but of the others all save ' delightsome ' are 
 gone ; while that, although used in our Authorized 
 Version (Mai. iii. 12), is now only employed in poetry. 
 So too ' mightsome ' (see Herbert Coleridge's Glos- 
 sarial Index), ' willsome ' {Fromptormjn), ' hearsome ' 
 (=obedient), ' needsome,' 'wantsome,' 'brightsome' 
 (Marlowe), ' wieldsome,' ' unwieldsome ' (Golding), 
 ' unlightsome' (Milton), ' thoughtsome,' ' growthsome ' 
 (both in Fairfax), ' healthsome ' {Homilies), ' poison- 
 some ' (Speght), ' ugsome,' ' ugglesome ' (both in 
 Foxe), ' laboursome ' (Shakespeare), ' friendsome,' 
 Mongsome' (Bacon), 'quietsome,' 'mirksome' (both 
 in Spenser), ' toothsome ' (Beaumont and Fletcher), 
 ' dubersome ' (Sussex dialect), ' deepsome ' (Chapman), 
 'gleesome,' 'joysome ' (both in Browne's Pastorals), 
 ' gaysome ' {Mii-ror for Magistrates), ' likesome ' 
 (Holinshed), 'roomsome,' ' bigsome,' 'awsome,' 
 ' timersome,' 'winsome,' ' viewsome,' ' dosome^ ( = 
 
2o6 Di7ninutio7is of English. lect. 
 
 prosperous), ' flaysome ' (= fearful), ' flowtersome ' (= 
 quarrelsome), 'auntersome' (= adventurous), 'dreari- 
 some,' ' dulsome,' ' doubtsome,' ' doughtsome,' ' aim- 
 some ' (=ambitious), 'gathersome' (=social), ' fr em- 
 some ' (= unsocial), ' friendsome,^ 'growsome,^ ' lixom ' 
 (=likesome or amiable), ' flavoursome,^ 'wranglesome/ 
 ' hindersome,' ' clamorsome ' (all these still surviving 
 in the North), ' playsome ^ (employed by the historian 
 Hume), ' lissome,' ' meltsome,' * heedsome,' ' laugh- 
 some,' 'clogsome,' 'fearsome,' ' limbersome,' 'chat- 
 some' (= talkative, Kentish), 'ravisome' (= rapa- 
 cious), 'fensome' (= adroit), 'gyversome' (= greedy, 
 Durham), ' clumsome,' have nearly or quite disap- 
 peared from our common English speech, and are 
 found, if found at all, in our dialects. More of these 
 have held their place in Scotland than in the south of 
 the Island.^ 
 
 Nor can it be mere accident that of a group of 
 words, almost all of them depreciatory and contemptu- 
 ous, ending in ' ard,' the German ' hart,' the Gothic 
 ' hardus,' ^ more than one half should have dropped 
 
 'Thus see in Jamieson's Dictionary 'bangsome,' 'freak- 
 some,' 'drysome,' 'grousome,' with others out of number. 
 
 ^ This, though a German form, reached lis through the 
 French ; having been early adopted by the Neo-latin languages. 
 In Italian words of this formation are frequent, ' bugiardo,' 
 'codardo,' 'falsardo,' 'leccardo,' 'linguardo,' 'testardo,' 
 'vecchiardo ;' and certainly not less so in French : 'bayard,' 
 'fuyard,' 'goliart,' 'pifart,' with many more; and in these 
 languages, no less than our own, they have almost always, as 
 Diez observes {Gra?fi. d. Rom. Sprachen, vol. ii. p. 350), ' eine 
 ungiinstige Bedeutung.' Compare Matzner, English Granunar, 
 vol. i. p. 439. 
 
V. Mortality of Words. 207 
 
 out of use ; I refer to that group of which ' bastard/ 
 ' braggart/ ' buzzard,' ' dotard,' ' laggard,' ' sluggard,' 
 ' wizard,' may be taken as surviving specimens ; while 
 *ballard' (a bald-headed man, Wiclif ) ; 'blinkard' 
 (Homilies)^ 'bosard,' 'dizzard' (Burton), 'dullard' 
 (Udal), ' haggard ' (a worthless hawk), ' haskard,' 
 *musard' (Chaucer), 'palliard,' 'pillard,' 'puggard,' 
 
 * shreward ' (Robert of Gloucester), ' snivelard ' 
 i^P7'ompto7'iiim) ; ' stinkard ' (Ben Jonson), ' trichard ' 
 {^Political So?igs), are extinct. ^ 
 
 There is a curious province of our vocabulary, in 
 which we were once so rich, that extensive losses 
 have failed to make us poor. I refer to those 
 double words which either contain within themselves 
 a strong rhyming modulation, such, for example, as 
 
 * willy-nilly,' ' hocus-pocus,' ' helter-skelter,' ' tag-rag,' 
 ' namby-pamby,' ' pell-mell,' 'hab-nab,' ' hodge-podge,' 
 ' hugger-mugger,' ' hurly-burly,' ^ or, with a slight dif- 
 
 ' What this * ard ' or * hart ' was before it became a mere 
 suffix is fully explained in Max Miiller's Chips from a German 
 Workshop, vol. iv. p. 92. 
 
 ^ The same pleasure in a swiftly recurring rhyme has helped 
 to form such phrases as these, 'carry and harry,' 'creep and 
 leap,' ' draff and chaff,' ' rape and scrape,' ' scot and lot,' ' shame 
 and blame,' 'top and lop.' Fairly numerous in English, 
 there are far more of them in German ; thus, 'band und rand,' 
 'dach und fach,' ' fleiss und schweiss,' ' freud und leid,' 'gut 
 und blut,' ' handel und wandel,' ' hege und pflege,' ' hehlen und 
 stehlen,' 'hiiben und driiben,' ' hiille und fiille,' ' krieg und 
 sieg,' 'leben und streben,' ' leben und weben,' ' lug und trug, ' 
 ' rath und that,' ' sack und pack,' ' sang und klang,' ' saus und 
 braus,' 'schalten und walten,' ' schlecht und recht,' ' schritt 
 und tritt,' 'schutz und trutz,' 'sichten und richten,' ' steg und 
 weg,' 'weit und breit.' For some earlier and mainly juristic 
 
2o8 Dimimitio7is of English. Lect. 
 
 ference from this, those whose characteristic feature 
 is not this internal likeness with initial unlikeness, but 
 initial likeness with internal unlikeness ; not rhyming, 
 but strongly alliterative, and in every case with a 
 change of the interior vowel from a weak into a strong, 
 generally from ' i ' into ' a ' or ' o ; ' as ' shilly-shally,' 
 ' mingle-mangle,' ' tittle-tattle,' ' prittle-prattle,' ' riff- 
 raff,' ' see-saw,' ' slip-slop.' No one who is not quite 
 out of love with the homelier portions of the language, 
 but will acknowledge the life and strength which 
 there is often in these and in others still current 
 among us. But of this sort what vast numbers have 
 fallen out of use, some so fallen out of all remembrance 
 that it may be difficult to find credence for them. 
 Thus take of rhyming the following : ' kaury-maury,' 
 ' trolly-tolly ' {Piers Ploughman), ' tuzzie-muzzie ' 
 {Proinptoriiim\ 'kicksy-wicksy ' (Shakespeare) ; 'hib- 
 ber-gibber,' 'rusty- dusty,' ' horrel-lorrel,' 'slaump- 
 paump ' (all in Gabriel Harvey), ' royster-doyster ' {Old 
 Play), ' hoddy-doddy ' (Ben Jonson) ; while of allite- 
 rative might be instanced these : ' skimble-skamble,' 
 ' bibble-babble ' (both in Shakespeare), ' twittle-twattle,' 
 ' kim-kam' (both in Holland), ' trim-tram,' ' trish-trash,' 
 ' swish-swash ' (all in Gabriel Harv^ey), 'whim-wham' 
 (Beaumont and Fletcher), ' mizz-mazz ' (Locke), 'snip- 
 snap' (Pope), 'flim-flam '(Swift), 'tric-trac,' and others.* 
 
 forms of the like kind see Grimm, Deittsche Rechtsalterthumer, 
 p. 13. The same are common enough in Greek, as in the pro- 
 verb, Tlci.dr\jj.aTa, ixadrj/jLara : so too pivjxara and irv^vixara (Plato, 
 I^ep. iii. 405) ; «t7}(Tjs and xP'/Jt^'^? KrT]jxaTa and xpT^/xara, ^o;^ and 
 TTvo)} (Acts xvii. 25), ^pccais and ttSctis (Col. ii. 16). 
 
 1 A Dictionary of Reduplicated Words in the English Lan- 
 guage, by Henry B. Wheatley, published as an appendix to The 
 
V. Mortality of Words. 209 
 
 Again, there is a whole family of words, — many of 
 them are now under ban, — which were at one time formed 
 almost at pleasure, the only condition being that the 
 combination should be a happy one. I refer to those 
 singularly expressive words formed by a combination of 
 verb and substantive, the former governing the latter ; as 
 'daredevil ' (=wagehals), ' killjoy,' ' hckspittle,' ' make- 
 bate ' (=storenfried), 'marplot/ 'scapegrace,' 'skin- 
 flint,' ' spendthrift,' 'spitfire,' ' telltale,' 'turncoat,' 'turn- 
 tail.' These, with some others, have held their ground, 
 and are current still : but how many are forgotten ; while 
 yet, though not always elegant, they preserved some of 
 the most genuine and vigorous idioms of the language. * 
 
 Transactions of the Philological Society, 1865, contains nearly six 
 hundred of these words, and the collector believes that there are 
 some hundreds more which he has not ingathered. I doubt 
 whether he has left any such gleaning to those who follow him. 
 I have lighted upon several, in what seemed to me out of the 
 way corners of English literature,' but have invariably found them 
 duly registered by him. Words constructed on a similar scheme 
 are to be found in the Romance languages ; but are less nu- 
 merous there, and not indigenous ; their existence in these being 
 rather the result of Germanic influences, which the Neo-latin 
 languages did not altogether escape (Diez, Gram. d. Rom. 
 Spracheti, vol. i. p. 71). 
 
 1 Many languages have groups of words formed upon the 
 same scheme, althovigh, singularly enough, they are altogether 
 absent from the Anglo-Saxon (Grimm, Deutsche Gram., vol. ii. 
 p. 976). Thus in Spanish a vaunting braggart is a ' matamoros,' 
 a slaymoor ; he is a ' matasiete, ' a slayseven (the ' ammaz- 
 zasette ' of the Italians) ; a ' perdonavidas,' asparelives. Others 
 may be added to these, as ' azotacalles,' ' picapleytos,' ' saltapa- 
 redes,' ' rompeesquinas, ' 'ganapan,' ' cascatreguas. ' So in 
 French, 'attisefeu,' ' coupegorge, ' 'faineant,' 'vaurien,' 'trouble- 
 
 P 
 
2 1 o Dimhiutions of E7iglish. lect. 
 
 Nor is this strange ; they are almost all words of abuse 
 or contempt, and these, alas ! are invariably among the 
 most picturesque and imaginative which a language 
 possesses. The whole man speaks out in them, and 
 often the man under the influence of passion and 
 excitement, which always lend force and fire to his 
 speech. Let me of these recount a few : * smellfeast' 
 (Davies), — it may remind us of the Greek r^tyicti- 
 TTvoc, — and is, if not a better, a more graphic, word 
 than our foreign 'parasite;' 'clawback' (Racket) is 
 stronger, if not more graceful, than ' flatterer ' or ' sy- 
 cophant;' 'tosspot' (Fuller), it is sometimes 'reel- 
 pot ' (Middleton), or ' swillpot ' (Cotgrave), tells its 
 tale as well as ' drunkard ; ' and 'pinchpenny' (Hol- 
 land), or ' nipfarthing ' (Drant), as well or better than 
 ' miser.' ' Spintext,' ' lacklatin,' ' mumblematins,' were 
 all applied to ignorant clerics ; 'bitesheep '(a favourite 
 word with Foxe), to bishops who were rather wolves 
 tearing, than shepherds feeding, the flock; 'slipstring' 
 (Beaumont and Fletcher, = pendard), ' slipgibbet,' 
 ' scapegallows,' were all names given to those who, 
 however they might have escaped the gallows, were 
 justly owed to it, and might still, as our common 
 people say, ' go up stairs to bed.' 
 
 Not a few of these words occur in Shakespeare. 
 The following list makes no pretence to complete- 
 ness : 'martext,' ' carrytale,' ' pleaseman,' ' sneak cup,' 
 ' mumblenews,' ' wantwit,' ' lackbeard,' ' lackbrain,' 
 ' lacklove,' ' ticklebrain,' ' cutpurse,' ' cutthroat,' ' crack- 
 hemp,' ' tearsheet,' ' breedbate,' ' swingebuckler,' ' pick- 
 
 fete.' In Italian ' accattapane,' ' cercabrighe, ' 'rubacuori,' and 
 many more (Diez, Gram. d. Rom. Spracken, vol. ii. p. 410). 
 
V. Group of DistLsed Words. 211 
 
 purse,' 'pickthank,' 'picklock/ 'scarecrow,' 'break- 
 vow,' ' breakpromise,' ' findfault,' ' choplogic,' ' make- 
 peace '—this last and 'telltruth' (Fuller) being the 
 only two in the whole collection, wherein reprobation 
 or contempt is not implied. The Hst is very far from 
 exhausted ; there are further 'dingthrift' (=prodigal, 
 Herrick), ' wastegood,' ' spendall ' (both in Cotgrave), 
 'stroygood' (Golding), ' scattergood,' 'wastethrift' 
 (Beaumont and Fletcher), ' scapethrift,' 'swash- 
 buckler ' (both in Holinshed), ' rushbuckler,' ' shake- 
 buckler,' ' rinsepitcher ' (both in Becon), 'drawlatch' 
 (Awdeley), ' crackrope ' (Howell), ' crackhalter,' ' wag- 
 halter,' 'wagfeather' (both in Cotgrave), 'blabtale' 
 (Racket), ' getnothing ' (Adams), 'tearthroat' (Gay- 
 ton), ' spitpoison ' (South), 'spitvenom,' ' marprelate,' 
 ' nipcheese,' ' nipscreed,' ' killman ' (Chapman), ' lack- 
 land,' ' pickquarrel,' 'pickfault,' 'pickpenny' (Henry 
 More), 'makefray' (Bishop Hall), 'makedebate' 
 (Richardson's Z^/Z^rj-), ' seeksorrow ' (Sidney), 'quench- 
 coal' (an enemy to all zeal in religion, Rogers), 
 ' kindlecoal,' 'kindlefire' (both in Gurnall), ' turn- 
 tippet ' (Cranmer), ' slipstring,' ' turnback,' ' swillbowl ' 
 (Stubbs), 'blurpaper' (=scribbler, Florio), 'smell- 
 smock' (=mulierarius), ' cumberworld ' (Drayton), 
 ' curryfavor,' ' pinchfist,' ' suckfist,' ' hatepeace ' (Syl- 
 vester), ' hinderlove,' ' spiefault,' ' hategood ' (Bunyan), 
 ' clusterfist ' (Cotgrave), ' clutchfist,' ' sharkgull ' (both 
 in Middleton), 'makesport' (Fuller), 'hangdog' 
 ( ' Herod's hmigdogs in the tapestry,' Pope), ' catch- 
 poll,' ' makeshift ' (used of persons, not of things as 
 now), ' killcow ' (these two last in Gabriel Harvey), 
 ' frayboggard ' (= scarecrow, Coverdale), ' letgame ' 
 (=. spoilsport, Chaucer), 'rakeshame' (Milton, prose), 
 
 p 2 
 
212 Diminutions of English. Lect. 
 
 with others which it will be convenient to omit. 
 ' Rakehell,' which used to be spelt ' rakel ' or ' rakle ' 
 (Chaucer), a good English word, would be wrongly 
 included in this list, although Cowper, when he wTites 
 ^rakeheir {^rake-hell baronet'),' must plainly have 
 regarded it as belonging to this family of words. ^ 
 
 There is another frequent cause of the disuse of 
 words. In some inexplicable way there comes to be 
 attached something of ludicrous, or coarse, or vulgar 
 to them, out of a sense of which they are no longer 
 used in earnest writing, and fall out of the discourse 
 of those who desire to speak elegantly. Not indeed 
 that this degradation which overtakes certain words is 
 in all cases inexplicable. The unheroic character of 
 most men's minds, with their consequent intolerance 
 of that heroic which they cannot understand, is con- 
 stantly at work, too often with success, in taking down 
 
 ^ I regret by too much brevity to have here led astray Dr. 
 G. Schneider, who has written a History of the English Lan- 
 guage, Freiburg, 1863, and done me the honour to transfer with 
 very slight acknowledgment whatever he found useful in my 
 little book to his own. He has at p. 159, this wonderful pas- 
 sage : ' Rakehell bedeutete ehemals baronet ; bald verband 
 sich damit der Begrifif von " wohllebender Mensch ; " und da 
 derjenige, welcher mehr an's Wohlleben denkt, leicht ein 
 Wohlliistling wird, ging die anfangs gute Bedeutung in diese 
 letztere iiber ; der Ausdruck ward desshalb aufgegeben, um 
 nicht mit dem Gedanken an baronet stets die Idee von einem 
 ausschweifenden wohlliistigen Menschen zu verbinden.' 
 
 2 The mistake is far earlier ; long before Cowper wrote the 
 sound suggested first this sense, and then this spelling. Thus 
 Stanihurst, Description of Ireland, p. 28 : ' They are taken for 
 no better than rakeheis, or deviPs black guard ; ' and often else- 
 where. 
 
V. Wo7^ds and Phrases become Vttlgar. 213 
 
 words of nobleness from their high pitch ; and, as the 
 most eftectual way of doing this, in casting an air of 
 mock-heroic about them. Thus ' to dub,' a word 
 resting on one of the noblest usages of chivalry, has 
 now something of ludicrous about it ; so too has 
 ' doughty/ They belong to that serio-comic, mock- 
 heroic diction, the multiplication of which, as of all 
 parodies on greatness, is evermore a sign of evil 
 augury for a nation that welcomes it with favour, is at 
 present such a sign of evil augury for our own. 
 
 ' Pate' is now comic or ignoble ; it was not so 
 once ; else we should not meet it in the Psalms 
 (vii. 17); as little was 'noddle,' which occurs in one 
 of the few poetical passages in Hawes. The same 
 may be affirmed of ' sconce,' of ' nowl ' or ' noil ' 
 (Wiclifj ; of 'slops' for trousers (Marlowe's Lucan) ; 
 of ' cocksure ' (Rogers), of ' smug,' which once meant 
 adorned (' the smug bridegroom,' Shakespeare). ' To 
 nap ' is now a word without dignity ; while in Wiclif 's 
 Bible we read, ' Lo He schall not nappe, nether slepe 
 that kepeth Israel' (Ps. cxxi. 4). 'To punch,' 'to 
 thump,' both occurring in Spenser, could not now 
 obtain the same serious use ; as little ' to wag' (Matt, 
 xxvii. 39, E.V.), or ' to buss ' (Shakespeare). Neither 
 would any one now say with Wiclif that at Lystra 
 Barnabas and Paul ' rent their clothes and skipped out 
 among the people ' (Acts xiv. 14) ; nor with Coverdale, 
 ' My beloved cometh hopping upon the mountains ' 
 (Cant. ii. 8) ; nor yet that 'the Lord trounced Sisera 
 and all his host,' as it stands in the Bible of 155 1 ; nor 
 with the Geneva characterize some as 'detestable 
 fellows ' (2 Pet. ii. 14). 'A sight of angels ' (as Tyndale 
 has it at Heb. xii. 22), would be felt as a vulgarism 
 
2 1 4 Diminutions of Engiish. lect. 
 
 now. Even ' d^fiock of angels ' (enngleflocc, Ormidiwi) 
 would be counted somewhat too familiar. ' A blubbe7'ed 
 face' (Spenser) would scarcely appeal to our pity, nor 'a 
 S7?iudged face' (Golding) excite horror. We should 
 not call now a delusion of Satan a ^fiam of the devil ' 
 (Henry More) ; nor our Lord's course through the air 
 to the pinnacle of the temple ' his aery Jaunt' (Milton). 
 ' Verdant ' is not a name which Spenser could now 
 give to one of the knights of Fairyland. It is the same 
 with phrases. ' Through thick and thin ' (Spenser), 
 ' cheek by jowl ' (Sylvester), ' highest by odds ' (Hol- 
 land), ' to lay in one's dish ' (the same), ' to save one's 
 bacon ' (Milton), ' hand over head ' (Bacon), ' tooth 
 and nail ' (Golding), ' a peck of troubles ' (Florio), do 
 not now belong to serious literature. In the glorious 
 ballad of Chevy Chase, a noble warrior whose legs are 
 hewn off, is ' in doleful dumps ; ' just as, in Holland's 
 Livy, the Romans are ' in the dumps ' after their 
 defeat at Cannje. In Golding's 07'id, one fears that 
 he will ' go to pot.' John Careless, in one of his 
 beautiful letters preserved in Foxe's Ma7-ty7's, an- 
 nounces that a persecutor, who expects a recantation 
 from him, is ' in the wrong box.' And in the sermons 
 of Barrow, who certainly did not affect familiar, still 
 less vulgar, expressions, we constantly meet such terms 
 as 'to rate,' 'to snub,' ' to gull,' ' to pudder ' (that is, 
 to bother), 'dumpish,' and the like ; words, we maybe 
 sure, not vulgar when he used them. 
 
 Then too the advance of refinement causes words 
 to be dismissed, which are felt to speak too plainly. 
 It is not here merely that one age has more delicate 
 ears than another ; and that matters are freely spoken 
 of at one period which at another are withdrawn from 
 
V. Words and Phrases become Vulgar. 215 
 
 conversation. There is something of this ; but even 
 if this deUcacy were at a standstill, there would still 
 be a continual disallowing of words, which for a cer- 
 tain while have been employed to designate coarse or 
 disagreeable facts or things ; or, where not a total dis- 
 allowing, a relinquishing of them to the lower classes 
 of society, with the adoption of others in their stead. 
 The former words being felt to have come by long use 
 into too direct and close relation with that which they 
 designate, to summon it up too distinctly before the 
 mind's eye, they are thereupon exchanged for others, 
 which indicate more lightly and allusively the offensive 
 thing, rather hint and suggest than designate and de- 
 scribe it : although by and by these new will in their 
 turn be discarded, and for exactly the same reasons 
 which brought about the dismissal of those which they 
 themselves superseded. It lies in the necessity of 
 things that I must leave this part of my subject, curious 
 as it is, without illustration ; ^ but no one even mode- 
 
 ^ As not, however, turning on a very coarse matter, and illus- 
 trating the subject with infinite wit and humour, I might refer 
 the Spanish scholar to the discussion between Don Quixote and 
 his squire on the dismissal of ' regoldar ' from the language of 
 good society, and the substitution of 'erutar' in its room {Don 
 Quixote, iv. 7. 43). In a letter of Cicero to Psetus (/vzw. ix. 22) 
 there is a subtle and interesting disquisition on the philosophy of 
 these forbidden words. See too Grimm's WoTterbuch, s. v. 
 Koth. What has been said above on this matter has been said 
 so much better by Mr. Earle {^Philology of the Efiglish Tongue, 
 p. 455) that I cannot refuse to quote his words : ' It is well 
 known that many words in common use are masked, that they 
 do not express plainly the sense which they are notwithstanding 
 intended to convey. We do not always call a spade a spade. 
 We have recourse in certain well-known cases to forms of ex- 
 
2 1 6 Dimiiiutions of English, lect. 
 
 rately acquainted with the early hterature of the Re- 
 formation can be ignorant of words having free course 
 therein, which now are not merely coarse, and as such 
 under ban, but which no one would employ who did 
 not mean to speak impurely and vilely. 
 
 I spoke in a former lecture of the many words 
 which have come back to us after a temporary absence, 
 and of the extent to which the language has been 
 reinforced and recruited by these. For there is this 
 difference between words and flexions, that of the last 
 what is once gone is gone for ever ; they are irrevo- 
 cable ; no human power could ever recall them. A 
 poet indeed may use ' pictai ^ for ' pictse,' ' olli ' for 
 '■ iUi' (Virgil), or 'glitterand' for 'glittering' (Spenser), 
 but it is not in their power to call these back, even if 
 they would ; and when a German wTiter suggests that 
 to abate the too great sibilation of our language we 
 should recover the plurals in ' n,' 'eyne,' 'housen,' 
 '■ hosen,' and the like, he betrays his ignorance of the 
 
 pression as distant from the thing meant as is any way consistent 
 with the intention of being understood. In such cases it will 
 have struck every philological observer that it becomes necessary 
 from time to time to replace these makeshifts with others of new 
 device. In fact, words used to convey a veiled meaning are 
 found to wear out very rapidly. The real thought pierces 
 through ; they soon stand declared for what they are, and not 
 for what they half feign to be. Words gradually drop the non- 
 essential, and display the pure essence of their nature. And the 
 real nature of a word is to be found in the thought which is at 
 the bottom of its motive. As we know full well how this nature 
 pierces through all disguise, casts off all draper^' and pretext and 
 colour, and in the course of time stands forth as the name of that 
 thing which was to be ignored even while it was indicated, so in 
 the case now before us.' 
 
V. Possibility of Recalling Words. 217 
 
 inexorable laws of language, and of the impossibility 
 by any human effort of controlling or modifying these. 
 But it is not so with words; and I cannot but think, 
 in view of this disposition of theirs to return, in view 
 also of the havoc which, as we have seen, various 
 causes are evermore effecting in the ranks of a lan- 
 guage, that much might be done by writers of autho- 
 rity and influence in the way of bringing back de- 
 serters, where they are capable of yielding good service 
 still, and placing them in the ranks again ; still more 
 in that of detaining words, which, finding no honour- 
 able employment, seem disposed to be gone; are keep- 
 ing out of the way, though they have not as yet actu- 
 ally disappeared. This would be less difiicult from 
 the fact that in almost every instance these words, ob- 
 solete or obsolescent, which our literary English knows, 
 or is about to know, no more, live on, as has been 
 already noted, in one or more of our provincial dia- 
 lects ; they do not require therefore, as dead, that life 
 should be breathed into them anew; but only, as 
 having retired into obscurity for a while, that some one 
 draw them forth from this obscurity again. Of these 
 there are multitudes. If I instance a very few, it 
 is not as specially recommending them for rehabilita- 
 tion, though some of them are well worthy of it, and 
 capable of good service still ; but as showing to what 
 kind of work I invite. 
 
 It is indeed to the poet mainly, although not ex- 
 clusively, that this task of retaining or recovering 
 archaisms must be committed. 'That high-flying 
 liberty of conceit ' which is proper to him will justify 
 liberties on his part which would be denied to the less 
 
2i8 Dii7iinutio7is of English. lect. 
 
 impassioned writer of prose. ^ It is felt by all that 
 with the task which is before him, he has a right to 
 all the assistances which the language strained to the 
 uttermost is capable of yielding. This Hberty Tenny- 
 son has not been slow to use. Thus ' to burgeon ' had 
 well-nigh disappeared from the language since the 
 time of Dryden, but has by him on two occasions 
 at least been employed. ' Holts/ also, for wooded 
 tops of hills, has been recovered by him. It is to 
 him too we owe the recovery of the verb 'to sough' 
 ('the soughing reeds ^) ; the noun Wordsworth had 
 brought back already ('the pine- woods' steady ^^?/^/^'). 
 
 ' Jean Paul {ALsthetik, § 83) : Ueberhaupt bildet und nahrt 
 die Prose ihre Sprachkraft an der Poesie, denn diese muss 
 immer mit neuen Fedem steigen, wenn die alten, die ihren 
 Fliigebi ausfallen, die Prose zum Schreiben nimmt. Wie diese 
 aus Inchtkunst entstand, so wachst sie auch an ihr. Ewaid 
 {Die poet. Biicher des Alten Bitndes, p. 53) : Endlich aber ist 
 der Dichter nicht bloss so der freieste Herrscher und Schopfer 
 im Gebiete der Sprache seiner Zeit, er spricht auch am warm- 
 sten und frischesten aus der Zeit und dem Orte, woran seine 
 Empfindungen zunachst gekniipft sind ; seine Sprache ist bei 
 aller Wiirde und Hohe zugleich die heimischste und eigen- 
 thlimlichste, weil sie am reinsten und anspruchlosesten aus dem 
 ganzen menschlichen Sein des Einzehien fliesst. Der Dichter 
 kann also freier und leichter abweichende Farben und Stoffe der 
 Sprache seiner nachsten Heimath und seiner eigenen Zeit ein- 
 fliessen lassen, und wahrend die Prosa eine einmal festgewordene 
 Form schwer andert, bereichert und verjiingt sich die Dichter- 
 sprache bestandig durch Aufnahme des Dialectischen, welches 
 in die herrschende Prosa nicht libergegangen, und durch den 
 Eindrang von Stoffen der Volkssprache, welche doch immer 
 mannigfaltiger ist, weil die unerschopfliche Quelle lebendiger 
 Sprache auch unvermerkt sich immer verandert und fortbildet. 
 Compare Goethe, Werke, 1836, vol. v. p. 68. 
 
V. Poets recall Wo7^ds. 2 r 9 
 
 A poet too, but not any other, might bring back the 
 fine old poetic word ' brim,' with much the same va- 
 riety of meaning as the modern 'brave.' Yet it is 
 not to the poet only that such a privilege is conceded. 
 The verb ' to hearten ' was as good as dead till Mr. 
 Grote, by his frequent employment of it in his History 
 of Greece, gave it life again. Southey and others did 
 the like for ' to worsen,' surely a better word than ' to 
 deteriorate.' ' Overlord/ with which all readers of 
 Mr. Freeman must be familiar, and which is certainly 
 a vast improvement on ' suzerain,' is in like manner a 
 revival ; it occurs in the Ormuliim. 
 
 But how much more in this line of things might 
 be accomplished than yet has been done. ' To sagg,' 
 a Shakespearian word, too good to lose, is alive almost 
 everywhere in England, except in our literary dialect ; 
 thus a tired horse ' saggs ' his head ; an ill-hung gate 
 ' saggs ' on its hinges. ' To gaster ' and ' to flayte,' — 
 they are synonyms, but the first is rather to terrify, 
 and the second to scare, — are frequent in the Puritan 
 writers of East Anglia ; so is ' to fellow-feel ; ' the two 
 former being still alive upon the lips of the people. 
 Perhaps ' to fleck ' is not gone ; nor yet ' to shimmer ; ' 
 but both are in danger of going. Coleridge sup- 
 posed that he had invented ' aloofness ; ' it is well 
 worthy of acceptance ; but if it has been accepted, 
 which is not yet perfectly clear, he only revived a 
 word which was in use two hundred years ago. ' Well- 
 wilier,' ' ill-wilier,' both frequent in North's Plutarch, 
 are good and unpretending words. ' Litherness,' as ex- 
 pressing a want of moral backbone in the character, has 
 gone, without leaving a substitute behind it. ' Elfish ' 
 and ' elfishness,' both ot them implying a certain 
 
2 20 DimimUions of English. Lect. 
 
 inborn and mischievous waywardness, have done the 
 sanie.^ ' Damish ' (Rogers) applied in blame to proud 
 imperious women, ' wearish ' in the sense of small, 
 weak, shrunken (thus, 'a wearish old man,' Burton), 
 ' masterous/ or ' maistrous ' as Milton spells it, in that 
 of overbearing, ' kittle,' an epithet given to persons of 
 a certain delicate organization, and thus touchy and 
 easily oft'ended,' ' birdwitted,' or incapable of keeping 
 the attention fixed for long on any single point 
 (Bacon), ' afterwitted,' applied by Tyndale to one 
 having what the French call V esprit de rescalier, who 
 always remembers w^hat he should have said, when, 
 having left the room, it is too late to say it, with 
 numberless others, may each of them singly be no 
 serious loss, but when these losses may be counted 
 by hundreds and thousands, they are no slight im- 
 poverishment of our vocabulary ; and assuredly it 
 would not be impossible to win some of these back 
 again. There are others, such as Baxter's ' word- 
 warriors,' strivers, that is, about words, as ' hopelosts,' 
 very nearly corresponding to the Greek ciawrot, as 
 'bookhunger' (Lord Brooke), as ' little -ease,' a place, 
 that is, of painful restraint, as 'realmrape ' (= usurpa- 
 tion, Miri'orfcn- Magistrates)^ as ' housedoves,' effemi- 
 nate stay-at-home people (North), the same who in 
 Sussex would have the name of 'fire-spaniels,' spaniels, 
 that is, which lie before the fire, as ' to witwanton ' 
 (Fuller warns men that they do not ' witwanton with 
 
 ' Thus Chaucer : 
 
 ' He seemeih elvish by his countenance, 
 For unto no wight doth he daliaunce.' 
 
 Prioress's Tale. 
 
V. Words ill lost. 221 
 
 God '), to ' cankerfret ' (' sin cankerfrets the soul,' 
 Rogers), which, though never in popular use, seem to 
 me happier than that they should be allowed to die. 
 Let me at the same time here observe what caution 
 and moderation are needful in this reviving or detain- 
 ing of words. Quinctilian has some prudent v/arnings 
 here. Of new words, he says, the oldest are the best ; 
 of old the newest ; while Seneca mocks at the 
 ' antiquaries,' as they were called ; men, as he 
 describes them, who spoke the Twelve Tables ; for 
 whom Gracchus and Curio were too recent.^ 
 
 We have to thank the American branch of the 
 English-speaking race that we have not lost ' freshet ' 
 (an exquisite word, used by Milton), ' snag ' (Spenser), 
 ' bluff,' ' kedge,' ' slick,' 2 ' to whittle/ ' to cave in,' ' to 
 prink,' 'to rile,' ^ to snarl' (= to entangle). They 
 are often counted as American neologies, but are 
 indeed nothing of the kind. There is scarcely one of 
 them, of which examples could not be found in our 
 earlier literature, and in provincial dialects they are 
 current every one to this present day.^ Even ' the fall,' 
 as equivalent to the autumn, is not properly American ; 
 being as old as Dryden, and older.^ 
 
 ' See Gerber, Sprache als Kunst, vol. i. p. 436. 
 
 - 'Slick' is indeed only another form of 'sleek.' Thus 
 Fuller {Fisgah Sight of Palestine, vol. ii. p. 190) : ' Sure I am 
 this city [the New Jerusalem] as presented by the prophet, was 
 fairer, finer, slicker, smoother, more exact, than any fabric the 
 earth afforded.' 
 
 ^ See Nail, Dialect and Provincialisr?is of East Anglia, 
 s. vv. 
 
 * * What crowds of patients the town-doctor kills, 
 Or how last /^z// he raised the weekly bills.' 
 
222 DvnhnUions of English. lect. 
 
 But besides these deserters, of which some at least 
 might with great advantage be recalled to the ranks, 
 there are other words, which have never found a place 
 in our literary EngHsh, that yet might be profitably 
 adopted into it. A time arrives for a language, when, 
 apart from the recoveries I have just been speaking 
 of, its own local and provincial dialects are almost 
 the only source from which it can obtain additions, 
 such as shall really constitute an increase of its wealth ; 
 while yet such additions from one quarter or another 
 are most needful, if it is to find any compensations 
 for the waste which is evermore going forward of the 
 wealth that in time past it possessed, if in fact it is 
 not day by day to grow poorer. We have seen how 
 words wear out, become unserviceable, how the glory 
 that clothed them] once disappears, as the light 
 fades from the hills ; how they drop away from the 
 stock and stem of the language, as dead leaves from 
 their parent tree. Others therefore, a later growth, 
 must supply the place of these, if the foliage is not to 
 grow sparser and thinner every day. 
 
 Before, however, we turn to the dialects with any 
 confident expectation of obtaining effectual help from 
 them, we must form a juster estimate of what they 
 really are, than is commonly entertained ; they must 
 be redeemed in our minds from that unmerited con 
 
 So in the answer to Marlowe's Passionate Pilgrim^ ascribed 
 to Raleigh : 
 
 ' A honey tongue, a heart of gall. 
 Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's _/^//.' 
 
 On this matter of American-English compare a very interesting 
 paper, with the title, 'Inroads upon English,' in Blackwood's 
 Magazine, Oct. 1867, p. 399, sqq. 
 
V. What our Dialects are, 223 
 
 tempt and neglect with which they are by too many 
 regarded. We too often think of a dialect, as of a 
 degraded, distorted, and vulgarized form of the classi- 
 cal language ; all its departures from this being for us 
 violations of grammar, or injuries which in one shape 
 or another it has suffered from the uneducated and 
 illiterate by whom mainly it is employed. But it is 
 nothing of the kind. It may not have our grammar, 
 but it has its own.^ If it have here and there a dis- 
 torted or mutilated word, much oftener what we 
 esteem such embodies some curious fact in the earlier 
 history of the language. A dialect is one of the many 
 forms in which a language once existed ; but one, as 
 an eminent French writer has expressed it, which has 
 had misfortunes ; ^ or which at any rate has not had 
 
 * See in proof Barnes' Grammar and Glossary of the Dorset 
 Dialect in the Transactions of the Philological Society, 1864. 
 
 ^ Sainte-Beuve : Je definis un patois, une ancienne langue 
 qui a eu des malheurs. Littre {Hist, de la Langue Franfaise, 
 vol. ii. p. 92) : Les faits de langue abondent dans les patois. 
 Parce qu'ils offrent parfois un mot de la langue litteraire estropie 
 ou quelque perversion manifeste de la syntaxe reguliere, on a 
 ete porte a conclure que le reste est a I'avenant, et qu'ils sont, 
 non pas une formation independante et originale, mais une 
 corruption de I'idiome cultive qui, tombe en des bouches mal 
 apprises, y subit tous les supplices de la distorsion. II n'en est 
 rien ; quand on ote ces taches peu nombreuses et peu profondes, 
 on trouve un noyau sain et entier. Ce serait se faire une idee 
 erronee que de considerer un patois comme du francais altere; 
 il n'y a eu aucun moment ou ce que nous appelons aujourd'hui 
 les francais ait ete uniformement parle sur toutela surface de la 
 France ; et, par consequent, il n'y a pas eu de moment non plus 
 ou il ait pu s'alterer chez les paysans et le peuple des villes pour 
 devenir un patois. Elsewhere the same writer says (vol. ii. 
 p. 150): Sauf I'usage des bons ecrivains et de la societe polie, 
 
2 24 Diminutions of hnglish. Lect. 
 
 the good fortune that befell High-German in Germany, 
 Castilian in Spain, Tuscan in Italy, that namely of 
 being elevated, under favourable circumstances not 
 accorded to others, above its compeers and competitors 
 to the dignity of the classical language of the land. 
 As a consequence it will not have received the de- 
 velopment, nor undergone the elaboration, which have 
 been the portion of its more successful rival ; but for 
 this very reason it will often have retained a freedom, 
 a freshness, and a naivete which the other has in 
 large measure foregone and lost^ 
 
 sauf I'elaboration grammaticale (double avantage que je suis loin 
 de vouloir attenuer), la langue litteraire n'est, non plus, qu'un 
 patois ou dialecte eleve a la suprematie, et elle a, comme les 
 autres, ses fautes et ses meprises, 
 
 ' Littre {Hist, de la Langue Fran^aise, vol. ii. p, 130): Un 
 patois n'a pas d'ecrivains qui le fixent, dans le sens oil Ton dit 
 que les bons auteurs fixent une langue ; un patois n'a pas les 
 termes de haute poesie, de haute eloquence, de haut style, vu 
 qu'il est place sur un plan ou les sujets qui comportent tout cela 
 ne lui appartiennent plus. C'est ce qui lui donne une apparence 
 de familiarite naive, de simplicite narquoise, ie rudessegrossiere, 
 de grace rustique. Mais, sous cette apparence, qui provient de 
 sa condition meme, est un fonds solide de bon et vieux fran^ais 
 qu'il faut toujours consulter. Con>pare Ampere, La Formation 
 de la Langue Francaise, p. 381 ; and Schleicher {Die Deutsche 
 Sprache, p. 1 10) : Die Mundarten nun sind die natiirlichen, nach 
 den Gesetzen der sprachgeschichtlichen Veranderungen gewor- 
 denen Formen der deutschen Sprache, im Gegensatze zu der 
 niehr oder minder gemachten und schulmeisterisch geregelten 
 und zugestutzten Sprache der Schrift. Schon hieraus folgt der 
 hohe Werth derselben fur die wissenschaftliche Erforschung 
 unserer Sprache ; hier ist eine reiche Fiille von Worten und 
 Formen, die, an sigh gut und echt, von der Schriftsprache 
 verschmaht wurden ; hier finden wir manches, was wir zur 
 
V. Language of Spenser. 225 
 
 Of its words, idioms, turns of speech, many which 
 we are ready, in our half-knowledge, to set down as 
 vulgarisms, solecisms of speech, violations of the pri- 
 mary rules of grammar, do no more than attest that 
 those who employ them have from some cause or 
 another not kept abreast with the progress which the 
 language has made. The usages are only local in the 
 fact that, having once been employed everywhere and 
 by all, they have now receded from the lips of all 
 except those in some certain country districts, who 
 have been more faithful than others to the traditions 
 of the past. Thus there are districts of England 
 where for 'we sing,' ' ye sing,' 'they sing,' they decline 
 their plurals, ' we singen,' 'yesingen,' 'they singen.' 
 This was not indeed the original plural, but was that 
 form of it which, coming up about Chaucer's time, was 
 dying out in Spenser's. He indeed constantly employs 
 it,^ but after him it becomes ever rarer in our literary 
 
 Erklarung der alteren Sprachdenkmale, ja zur Erkenntniss der 
 jetzigen Schriftsprache verwerthen konnen, abgesehen von dem 
 sprachgeschichtlichen, dem lautphysiologischen Interesse, welches 
 die iiberaiis reiche Mannigfaltigkeit unserer Mundarten bietet. 
 
 ' It must be owned that Spenser does not fairly represent the 
 language of his time, or indeed of any time, affecting as he does 
 a certain artificial archaism both of words and forms ; and this 
 unfortunately with no sufficient knowledge of the past history 
 of the language to prevent him from falling into various 
 mistakes. Some call in question the justice of this charge, and 
 will fain have it that he does but write the oldest English of his 
 time. I cannot so regard it. Jonson, bom only twenty years 
 later, could not have been mistaken ; and with all its severity 
 there is a truth in his observation, ' Spenser, in affecting the 
 ancients, writ no language.' And Daniel, born some ten years 
 later, implicitly repeats the charge : 
 
 Q 
 
2 26 Diminutions of English. lect. 
 
 English. In the Homilies I have met it once, in 
 Drayton,' and even so late as in Fuller : but in his 
 time it quite disappears. 
 
 Now of those who retain such forms you should 
 esteem not that they violate the laws of the language, 
 but that they have taken \\\€\x pcrma7ie7it stand at that 
 which was only a point of transition for it, and which 
 
 * Let others sing of knights and Paladins 
 In fl'^^^ accents and zmtimelywoxd?,.'' 
 
 See too the remarkable Epistle prefixed by the anonpnous Editor 
 to hiiShephci'd^s Calendar, M-here the writer glories in the archaic 
 character of the author on whom he is annotating. In the 
 matter, however, which is treated above Ben Jonson was at one 
 with him, himself expressing a strong regret that these inflections 
 had not been retained. ' The persons plural, ' he says {English 
 Gram7?2ar, c. xvii.), 'keep the termination of the first person 
 singular. In former times till about the reign of King Henry 
 VIII., they were wont to be formed by adding en ; thus loven, 
 saycn, cornplainen. But now (whatsoever is the cause) it hath quite 
 grown out of use, and that other so generally prevailed, that I 
 dare not presume to set this afoot again ; albeit (to tell you my 
 opinion) I am persuaded that the lack hereof, well considered, 
 will be found a great blemish to our tongue. For seeing time 
 and person be as it were the right and lefc hand of a verb, what 
 can the maiming bring else, but a lameness to the whole body?' 
 This statement, let me observe by the way, needs to be a little 
 modified. Until about Chaucer this termination in 'en' was 
 common in perfects ; thus ' they makeden ' = they made; but not 
 in presents ; thus not ' they maken,' but the older ' they maketh.' 
 Neither Chaucer, however, nor Gower observes this distinction; 
 but, as usual, analog}"^ carries the day; what was good for one tense 
 is assumed to be good also for another ; and by both these poets 
 ' they maken ' is as freely used as ' they makeden '—this also 
 in due time, as Jonson remarks, to give place to our present use, 
 ' ' The happy shepherds ininsen on the plain.' 
 
V. Old English and Bad English. 227 
 
 it has now left behind. A countryman will nowadays 
 say, ' He made me afeardj or ' The price of corn ris 
 last market-day,' or ' I will axe him his name ;' or ' I 
 tell ye,' and you will be tempted to set these phrases 
 down as barbarous English. They are not such at all. 
 ^ Afeard ' is the regular participle of an old English 
 verb ' a-fasran,' as ' afraid ' of ' to affray ; ' ' ris ' or 
 ' risse ' is an old preterite of ' to rise ; ' ' to axe ' is not 
 a mispronunciation of ' to ask,' but the constant form 
 which in southern English the verb assumed. Even 
 such a phrase as ' Put them things away,' is not bad, 
 but only antiquated English.^ 'Waps,' which we hear 
 constantly, is not a malformation of ' wasp,' but only 
 the earlier form of the word, 'wseps' or ' weaps ' in 
 
 ' Genin {Recreations Philolflgiqti.es, vol, i. p. 71) says to the 
 same effect : II n'y a gueres de faute de frangais, je dis faute 
 generale, accreditee, qui n'ait sa raison d'etre, et ne put au besoin 
 produire ses lettres de noblesse ; et souvent mieux en regie que 
 celles des locutions qui ont usurpe leur place au soleil. The 
 French Academy, in the Preface to the last edition of the Dic- 
 tionnaire Historiqite dc la Langue Fran^aise, p. xv., warns against 
 similar acts of injustice, into which, trying the past by the rules 
 of the present, we are in danger of falling: Ces ecrivains y seront 
 quelquefois defendus contre d'indiscretes critiques, qui leur ont 
 reproche comme des fautes de langage ce qui n'etait que I'emploi 
 legitime de la langue de leur temps. A chaque epoque s'eta- 
 blissent des habitudes, des conventions, des regies meme, 
 auxquelles n'ont pu assurement se conformer par avance les 
 ecrivains des epoques anterieures, et qu'il n'est ni juste ni 
 raisonnable de leur opposer, comme s'il s'agissait de ces premiers 
 principes dont I'autorite est absolue et universelle. C'est 
 pourtant en vertu de cette jurisprudence retroactive qu'ont ete 
 condamnees, chez d'excellents auteurs, des manieres de parler 
 alors admises, et auxquelles un long abandon n'a pas toujours 
 enleve ce qu'elles avaient de grace et de vivacite. 
 
 Q2 
 
2 28 DimifitUions of English. Lect. 
 
 Anglo-Saxon. ' Ouren/ or ' ourn,' as our rustics in 
 the South of England so freely use it (cf Gen. xxvi. 
 20, Widif, and often), has been disallowed by those 
 classes with which rests the final decision as to what 
 shall stand in a language, and what shall not ; but it 
 is in itself as correct as ' ours.' ' Hern ' too for ' hers ' 
 is frequent in Wiclif. When you hear a country lad 
 speaking dissyllabically of ' nestes/ where you would 
 say ' nests,* he is only clinging to a form which you 
 have let go, but which will meet you in every page of 
 Chaucer, and in almost every one of Spenser. It is 
 only the poor who say now, ' It is all along (gelang) 
 of you that this happened ; ' but it is good English. 
 You are not indeed to conclude from all this that such 
 forms are open to you to employ, or that they would 
 be good English now. They would not ; being de- 
 partures from that present use and custom, which must 
 constitute our standard in what we speak and write ; 
 just as in our buying and selling we must use the cur- 
 rent coin of the realm, not attempt to pass money 
 which long since has been called in, whatever intrinsic 
 value it may possess. 
 
 The same may be said of certain ways of pronoun- 
 cing words, not now in use, except among the lower 
 classes ; thus, 'contrary,' ' mischie'vous,' ' blasphemous,' 
 instead of ' contrary,' ' mischievous,' ' blasphemous.' 
 It would be easy to show by quotations from our poets 
 that these are no mispronunciations, but only the re- 
 tention of an earlier pronunciation by the people, after 
 the higher classes have abandoned it. ^ And let me 
 
 ' A single proof may in each case suffice : 
 
 'Our wills and fates do so co7itrdry run.' — Shakespeare. 
 
V. Dialects disappear. 229 
 
 here say how well worth your while it will prove 
 to watch for provincial words and inflections, local 
 idioms and modes of pronunciation. Count nothing 
 in this kind beneath your notice. Do not at once 
 ascribe any departure from what you have been used 
 to, either in grammar, or pronunciation, or meaning 
 ascribed to words, to the ignorance or stupidity of the 
 speaker. Thus refrain from counting ' em ' a muti- 
 lation of ' them.' It is a word with its own place in 
 the language, though it has not been able to keep this. 
 If you hear ' nuncheon,' ^ do not at once set it down 
 
 * Ne let mischievous witches with their charms,' — Spenser. 
 ' O argument blasphetnous, false and proud. ' — Milton. 
 
 * This form, which our country people in Hampshire always 
 employ, either retains the original pronunciation, our received 
 one being a modern corruption ; or else, as is more probable, 
 others have confounded two_,dififerent words, from which confusion 
 they have kept clear. In Howell's Vocabulary, 1659, and in 
 Cotgrave's French and English Dictionary, both words occur : 
 * nuncion or nuncheon, the afternoon's repast,' (cf. Hudibras, 
 i. I, 346: 'They took their breakfasts or their ^luncheons''), 
 and 'lunchion, a big piece,' z'.d'. of bread ; both giving 'caribot, ' 
 which has this meaning, as the French equivalent ; and compare 
 Gay : 
 
 ' When hungry thou stood'st staring like an oaf, 
 I sliced the luncheon from the barley loaf ; ' 
 
 and Miss Baker {Northamptonshire Glossary) explains ' lunch ' 
 as * a large lump of bread, or other edible ; " He helped himself 
 to a good lujich of cake." ' This ' nuntion ' may possibly help 
 us to the secret of the word, Richardson notes that it is spelt 
 ' noon-shun ' in Browne's Pastorals, which must suggest as 
 plausible, if nothing more, that the ' nuntion ' was originally the 
 labourer's slight meal, to which he withdrew for the shunning of 
 the heat of noon : above all when in Lancashire we find * noon- 
 scape,' and in Norfolk 'noon-miss,' for the time when labourers 
 
230 D inmiittions of English. Lect. 
 
 for a malformation of ' luncheon/ nor ' yeel '^ of ' eel.' 
 If a * boil ' in the mouth of some of your poorer 
 neighbours becomes a ' bile/ count that they have 
 done no more than retain the older pronunciation 
 which you have left behind. Indeed you will find the 
 word so spelt in the first edition of the Authorized 
 Version ( 1 6 1 1 ). Our best bred ancestors — I cannot say 
 how many generations back, but certainly not a great 
 many — would all have spoken of a 'jinte' of meat, 
 while rhymes such as 'join ' and 'wine ^ (they are of 
 frequent occurrence in the poets of the seventeenth 
 century), were by no means once those imperfect 
 rhymes which we regard them now. Lists and collec- 
 tions of provincial usage, such as I have suggested, 
 always have their value. If you cannot turn them to 
 profit yourselves, and they may not stand in close 
 enough connection with your own studies for this, 
 there are always those who will thank you for them ; 
 and to whom the humblest of these collections, care- 
 fully and conscientiously made, will be in one way or 
 other of real assistance.^ There is the more need to 
 
 rest after dinner. The dignity at which * kmch ' or ' luncheon ' 
 has now arrived, as when we read in the newspapers of a 'mag- 
 nificent luncheon,'' is quite modern ; the word belonged a cen- 
 tury ago to rustic life, and in literature had not travelled beyond 
 the ' hobnailed pastorals ' which professed to describe that life. 
 
 ' Holland {Pliny, vol. ii. p. 428, and often) writes it so ; 
 and see on this initial 'y,' Barnes, Dorsetshire Poems, passim. 
 
 ' An article On English P?'ono2c?is Personal in the Trans- 
 actions of the Philological Society, vol, i. p. 277, will attest the 
 excellent service which an accurate acquaintance with provincial 
 usages may render in the investigation of perplexing phenomena 
 in English grammar. Compare Guest, History of English 
 Rhythms, vol. ii. p. 207. 
 
V. Richness of Dialects. 231 
 
 urge this at the present, because, notwithstanding the 
 tenacity with which our country folk chng to their old 
 forms and uses, still these must now be rapidly grow- 
 ing fewer ; and there are forces, moral and material, 
 at work in England, which will probably cause that of 
 those which now survive the greater part will within the 
 next fifty years have disappeared. Many of them even 
 now are only to be gleaned from such scattered and 
 remote villages as have not yet been exposed to the ra- 
 vages of the schoolmaster, or the inroads of the railway. 
 
 What has been just now said of our provincial 
 English, namely, that it is often old EngHsh rather 
 than bad English, is not less true of many so-called 
 Americanisms.^ There are parts of America where 
 ' het ' is still the participle of ' to heat' (if our Autho- 
 rized Version had not been meddled with, we should 
 so read it at Dan. iii. 19 to this day) ; where 'holp ' 
 still survives as the perfect of ' to help ; ' ' pled ' (as 
 in Spenser) of ' to plead.' Longfellow uses 'dove' as 
 the perfect of ' to dive ; ' nor is this a poetical license, 
 for I lately met the same in a well-written American 
 book of prose. 
 
 The dialects then are worthy of respectful study — 
 and if in their grammar, so in their vocabulary no less. 
 If the sage or the scholar were required to invent a 
 word which should designate the slight meal claimed 
 in some of our southern counties by the labourer be- 
 fore he begins his mowing in the early morning, they 
 might be sorely perplexed to do it. The Dorsetshire 
 labourer, who demands his ' dewbit,' has solved the 
 difficulty. In the same dialect they express in a single 
 
 * See Eartlett, Dictionary of Ajuericanisms, passim. 
 
232 Dwiinutions of English. lect. 
 
 word that a house has a northern aspect ; it is ^ back- 
 sunned.' You have marked the Ughting of the sky 
 between the horizon and the clouds when these last 
 are about to break up and disappear. Whatever 
 name you gave it you would hardly improve on that of 
 the ' weather-gleam/ which in some of our dialects it 
 bears. Then, too, there is a certain humour in calling 
 frogs * fen-nightingales;' a good scolding 'a dish of 
 tongues ' (Sussex dialect). I had long supposed that 
 ' chair-days,' the beautiful name for those days of old 
 age when outward activity has ceased, was Shakes- 
 peare's own invention ; occurring as it does in young 
 Clifford's pathetic lament for his slain father.^ But 
 this is a mistake ; in Lancashire, as I learn, the phrase 
 is current still. And this is what we find continually, 
 namely, that the true art of word-making, which is 
 hidden from the wise and learned of this world, is re- 
 vealed to the husbandman, the mechanic, the child. 
 Spoken as the dialects are by the actual cultivators of 
 the soil, they will often be inconceivably rich in words 
 having to do with the processes of husbandry; thus 
 ripe corn blown about by strong winds, or beaten down 
 by rain or hail, may in East Anglia be said either to 
 be ' baffled,' or ' nickled,' or ' snaffled,' or ' shuckled,' 
 or ' wilted,' ^ each of these words having its own shade 
 of meaning. When thoroughly soaked and spoiled 
 by wet, it is ' waterslain.' Spoken by those who are 
 in constant and close contact with external nature, the 
 dialects will often possess a far richer and more varied 
 
 ^ 2 Henry VI., Act v. Sc. 2. 
 
 2 See Nail, Dialect of East Anglia, s. vv. 'To wilt,' pro- 
 vincial with us, is not so in America (Marsh, Lectuj-es, i860, 
 p. 66S). 
 
V. Richness of Dialects. 233 
 
 nomenclature to set forth the various and changing 
 features of this than the Hterary language itself. Pro- 
 fessor Max Miiller, in a passage of singular eloquence 
 on the subject of ' dialectical regeneration,' ^ claims 
 the dialects as the true feeders of a language : ' We 
 can hardly form an idea of the unbounded resources 
 of dialects. When literary languages have stereotyped 
 one general term, their dialects will supply fifty, each 
 with its own special shade of meaning. If new com- 
 binations of thought are evolved in the progress of 
 society, dialects will readily supply the required names 
 from the store of their so-called superfluous words.' ^ 
 
 ' On the Science of Language, ist part, p. 60. 
 
 ^ Compare Heyse, System der Sprachzvisscnschaft, p. 299 ; 
 and Geruzez, who in his admirable Hist, de la Litteratiire 
 Fran^aise, vol. i. p. 19, has said on this matter : Ce recrutement 
 necessaire doit s'operer non par voie d' invasion tumultueuse ou de 
 capricieuse creation. II y a plusieurs moyens d'y pourvoir 
 reguherement : c'est d'abord la reprise des mots et des tournures 
 qui ont ete delaisses par inadvertence ou juste dedain. En 
 effet chez nos vieux auteurs qui ont ete des maitres et qui ne 
 sont plus des modeles, il y a bien des richesses enfouies qui ne 
 demandent qu'a reparaitre. Les langues anciennes, meres de la 
 notre, peuvent encore lui fournir quelques aliments. Nous 
 pouvons aussi, avec de grandes precautions toutefois, faire 
 d'heureux emprunts a nos voisins. Mais la source la plus saine 
 et la plus abondante, la vraie fontaine de Jouvence pour la langue 
 litteraire, c'est la langue populaire, qui ferrnente toujours ; ce 
 sont les dialectes speciaux des arts, des metiers, des jeux meme 
 ou les mots naissent spontanement des mouvements et des 
 besoins de la pensee et resolvent une empreinte vivante de la 
 vie meme de 1' intelligence. Ceux-la seuls sont de bonne venue 
 et destines a vivre. Les mots qu'on forge dans le cabinet 
 manquent de grace et durent j.eu. Nisard {Ciiriosiies de V Ety- 
 mol. Fran^. p. 90): Les patois sont a la fois I'asile ou s'est 
 refugiee en partie I'ancienne langue fran9aise, et le depot ou 
 se gardent les elements de la nouvelle. 
 
234 Dimimitions of English. lect. 
 
 Thus a brook, a streamlet, a rivulet are all very well, 
 but what discriminating power do they possess as 
 compared with a ' burn,' a ' beck,' ^ a ' gill,' a ' force,' 
 North-country words, each with a special signification 
 of its own? 
 
 Words from the local dialects are continually slip- 
 ping into the land's language, and making a home for 
 themselves there. ' Pony,' a Gaelic word, has done 
 this during the last century ; ' gruesome,' which has 
 always lived in Scotland, is creeping back into English 
 (it is used by Browning) ; and with it not a few other 
 words from the same quarter, as ' blink,' ' bonnie,' 
 'braw,' ' canny,' '■ daft,' ' douce,' ' dour,' ' eerie,' ' fash,' 
 ' feckless,' ' foregather,' ' glamour,' ' glint,' ' gloaming,' 
 ' glower,' ' raid,' ' skirl,' ' uncanny,' ' winsome,' all ex- 
 cellent in their kind. Wordsworth has given allow- 
 ance to '■ force,' the North-country name for a water- 
 fall ; and, if my memory do not err, to ' beck,' and 
 ' burn ' as well.^ ' Clever ' is an excellent example of 
 
 1 ' A burn winds slowly along meadows and originates from 
 Small springs, whereas a beck is formed by water collected on 
 the side of mountains, and proceeds with a rapid stream.' — Dr. 
 Willan. 
 
 - What use Luther made of the popular language in his 
 translation of the Bible he has himself told us, and here is one 
 secret of its epoch-marking character. These are his words : 
 Man muss nicht die Buchstaben in der lateinischen Sprache 
 fragen, wie man soli deutsche reden ; sondern man muss die 
 Mutter im Hause, die Kinder auf den Gassen, den gemeinen 
 Mann auf dem Markte darum fragen, und denselben auf das 
 Maul sehen, wie sie reden. What a real acquisition the verb 
 * klirren ' is in German, It is a provincial word which first 
 found its way into a written book in 1 738, and not into the 
 German Dictionaries till a good deal later (see Grimm, Wdrter- 
 
V. Clever, Stingy, Fun* 235 
 
 a low-born word which almost without observation 
 has passed into general allowance ; though meaning 
 one thing in our provincial dialects, another in Ame- 
 rica (see Webster), and another in our standard Eng- 
 lish. Sir Thomas Browne noted it two centuries ago 
 as an East Anglian provincialism, and Ray as dialectic. 
 Barlow in his Dictiojiary, 1772, warns us that 'it should 
 never make its way into books,' while Johnson protests 
 against it as ' a low word, scarcely ever used but in 
 burlesque or conversation.' The facts of the case did 
 not, even when he wrote, quite bear this statement 
 out ; but there can be little doubt that it is a parvenu^ 
 which has been gradually struggling up to the position 
 which it has now obtained. ' Stingy ' was in Sir 
 Thomas Browne's time and in his estimation ' a new 
 coined word.' It was in all likelihood, to speak more 
 exactly, a provincial word forcing its way in his time 
 into more general circulation. An ' outing ' for a holi- 
 day excursion has been long in provincial use, as our 
 glossaries of Northern English will tell us. It can 
 hardly be said to be provincial now. ' Fun ' too, of 
 which our earlier Dictionaries know nothing, was ' a 
 low cant word ' in Johnson's day and in his estimation. 
 So much has been done in this matter, the language 
 has been so largely reinforced, so manifestly enriched 
 
 buch, s. V. ). The French ' gamin ' dates no farther back than 
 1835, see my Study of Words, i6th ed. p. 217. Montaigne, who 
 owes not a little of his reputation to his wonderful style, pleads 
 guilty to the charge brought in his lifetime against him, that he 
 employed not a few words and idioms which, till he gave them 
 a wider circulation, belonged to his native Gascony alone. 
 Goethe too has obtained general allowance for words not a few, 
 which were only proviucial before him. 
 
236 Dii7iinutions of English. Lect. 
 
 by words which either it has received back after a 
 longer or shorter absence, or which in later days it 
 has derived from the dialects and enlisted for general 
 service, as to afford abundant encouragement for 
 attempting much more in the same direction. But 
 these suggestions must for the present suffice. 1 
 reserve for my lecture which follows the other half 
 of a subject which is very far from being half ex- 
 hausted-.^ 
 
 ' I would not willingly close this part of my subject without 
 something said on the main dialects of the land, as they have 
 made their several contributions to that which is now recognized 
 here and wherever English is spoken as the rule and standard 
 by which all other English must be tried, and in the measure of 
 its departure from this, condemned. The clear recognition of the 
 fact that there is not one Old English, but several, that Modern 
 English, though indebted most largely to one of these, is largely 
 indebted to them all, being the result of a tacit compromise 
 between them, is perhaps the most important step in advance 
 which the study of English in recent times has made. The 
 recognition of this belongs to the last forty years, and one hardly 
 exaggerates who has said that ' it has brought order, where there 
 Avas only chaos and confusion before.' Mr. Garnett has the 
 honour of being the first, not indeed to call attention to the 
 varying dialects, but the first to classify them, to register their 
 several peculiarities, to define the areas over which they severally 
 prevailed, and to estimate the contributions which they severally 
 made to our standard English, This he did in an article in the 
 Quarterly Review, 1836, reprinted in his Philological Essays, 
 1859, pp. 41-77. The fact that there was a Northern, a 
 Southern, and a Midland English, each with its own character- 
 istics, and that the English which we speak and write is the 
 result of the triumph, a partial not a complete triumph, of one 
 among them, was known long before. I quote in proof a re- 
 markable passage from Puttenham's Art of Poesy, of date 1 589 
 (I need hardly observe that by a ' maker ' he means a poet) : 
 
V. Th7^ee Dialects. 237 
 
 * Our maker therefore at these days shall not follow Piers Plow- 
 man, nor Gower, nor Lydgate, not yet Chaucer, for their lan- 
 guage IS now out of use with us : neither shall he take the 
 terms of Northern-men, such as they use in daily talk, whether 
 they be noblemen, or gentlemen, or their best clerks, all is a 
 matter ; nor in effect any speech used beyond the river of Trent. 
 Though no man can deny but that theirs is the purer English 
 Saxon at this day, yet it is not so courtly nor so current as our 
 Southern English is ; no more is the far Western man's speech. 
 Ye shall therefore take the usual speech of the Court, and that 
 of London and the shires lying about London within sixty miles, 
 and not much above.' We have since improved upon Putten- 
 ham's nomenclature, his ' Southern * being what we now call 
 Midland, even as we are wont more accurately to define the 
 exact area over which this, destined to be the ruling dialect of 
 the land, was spoken. In explanation of the steps by which this 
 English obtained its preeminence, I quote, but with great reluc- 
 tance immensely abridging, some words of Mr. Freeman in his 
 Norynan Co?iqttest, vol. v. p. 541 : ' The fourteenth century had 
 to fix what kind of English should become the acknowledged 
 language of England ; which of the many dialects of English 
 should come to the front and become the standard English 
 tongue. The Northern dialect, the Anglian of Northumberland, 
 modified under Scandinavian influences, had no chance. The 
 tongue of York was not likely to become the standard of lan- 
 guage at the Court either of Winchester or of Westminster. It 
 might perhaps have been thought among the various dialects the 
 one which would come to the front would be the true Saxon 
 speech of the South, the tongue both of the elder and the younger 
 capital. But in cases of this kind, when dialects are left to 
 themselves, that which wins in the long run is likely to be a 
 dialect which holds a middle place between extremes at both 
 ends. It was neither the Northern nor the Southern, neither 
 the broadly Anglian nor the broadly Saxon variety of our lan- 
 guage which was to set the standard of the English tongue. 
 Without pretending to fix the geographical limit vei y exactly, 
 there can be no doubt that the English language, in the form 
 which has been classical ever since the fourteenth century, is the 
 language of the shires bordering on the great monastic region of 
 
238 Dimiiiutio^ts of English. lect. 
 
 the Fenland, the tongue of Northamptonshire, Huntingdonshire, 
 Rutland, and Holland. Classical English is neither Northern 
 nor Southern, but Midland.' 
 
 Other excellent words from another pen on the same matter 
 are as follow : * In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries the 
 three English Dialects — the Southern, Midland, and Northern — 
 had held equal rank as practically distinct languages, each sove- 
 reign in its own territory, and each boasting its own literature. 
 When a work which had been produced in one dialect had to be 
 reproduced for the speakers of another, it was not a simple 
 transcription, but a trandation which had to be made. The man 
 who lived north of the Humber was only partially intelligible 
 when he wrote, probably altogether unintelligible when he spoke, 
 to the man who lived south of the Thames. But as the country 
 became more consolidated into a national unity, and its ex- 
 tremities more closely drawn together, the Midland dialect, 
 which united the characteristics of the other two, and was more- 
 over the form of speech used at the great seats of learning, 
 where Northern and Southern thought were blended in one, 
 began to stand forth as the medium of a common literature, the 
 language of education and culture. In proportion as the Mid- 
 land dialect acquired this preeminence, the dialects of the North 
 and South, understood only in their own localities, ceased to be 
 employed for literary purposes, and sank gradually into the 
 position of local and rustic patois. By the close of the fifteenth 
 century there was thus but one standard language acknowledged, 
 namely that founded upon the Old Midland tongue' (Murray, 
 Dialect of the Southern Counties of Scotland, p. 45). 
 
 At the same time it must be borne in mind that our present 
 standard English is indebted to almost all the other dialects for 
 certain grammatical and lexicographical forms whose special 
 provincial origin is now forgotten or lost sight of No one 
 dialect of our old English is competent to account for all our 
 present grammar and vocabulary. The history of our pronouns, 
 for instance, must be gathered from a study of the old Northern 
 literature ; while our verb necessitates a knowledge of Northern 
 and Midland peculiarities. The Midland wins the day, but not 
 without many concessions to its less successful rivals, above all 
 to the Northern, and these alike in flexions and single words, in 
 
V. Three Dialects. 239 
 
 the Grammar and the Dictionary. And first in the Grammar. 
 The Northern 'are' (earlier 'arn') as the third pkiral of 'am, 'gets 
 the better of 'beoth'( = 'be') ; which indeed still survives, as when 
 we say ' to whom all hearts be open,' but is, and is felt to be, more 
 or less of an archaism. The dropping in past participles of the 
 prefix 'ge,' already often worn down to 'i' or *y,' a prefix 
 which modern German is so careful to retain, is another triumph 
 of Anglian over Southern speech. It is still frequent, but as a 
 survival, in Spenser, 'yblent,' ' ytake,' and the like. Milton 
 too has used it a few times, 'yclept,' 'ychained,' ' star-i-point- 
 ing ; ' this last a blunder, for it is a passive and not an active 
 prefix. Then too the Southern plural ' en ' gives place to the 
 Anglian 'es' or 's,' 'en' only surviving in about half a dozen 
 words, such as ' oxen, ' ' brethren, ' and provincially in a few 
 more, such as 'housen,' ' cheesen.' So too, though the language 
 of the Danelagh could not in the end displace our Saxon English 
 any more than the Sweyns and the Canutes could found an en- 
 during Danish dynasty, a large number of Danish words did in the 
 struggle for existence get the better of words more properly 
 English, put these out of use, and push their own way into every 
 corner of the land, finally taking their place in its recognized 
 speech. Thus 'to plough' has been too strong for 'to ear,' 
 though this last was not without support from our English Bible. 
 In like manner the Northern ' to ask ' has triumphed over the 
 Southern 'to axe' (acsian), a vulgarism now. 'Cross,' — the 
 Scandinavian 'kross,' not the French 'croix,' — has put 'rood,' 
 and the more the pity, out of use ; this last only surviving in 
 'rood-screen' and 'rood-loft.' The Northern 'with' has been 
 too much for the Southern 'mid,' identical with the High Ger- 
 man 'mit;' — but this subject, despite of all the interest which 
 it possesses, I can dwell on no further. 
 
240 Dimimctions of English. lect. 
 
 LECTURE VI. 
 
 DIMINUTIONS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 
 
 (CONTINUED.) 
 
 WHAT in my last preceding lecture has been 
 said must suffice in respect of the words, and 
 the character of the words, which we have lost or let 
 go. Of these, indeed, if a language, as it travels on- 
 wards, loses some, it also acquires others, and pro- 
 bably many more than it loses ; they are leaves on 
 the tree of language, of which, if some wither and fall 
 away, a new succession takes their place. But it is 
 not so, as I already observed, with the/^r;;/>f ox powers 
 of a language, that is, with the various inflections, 
 moods, duplicate or triplicate formation of tenses, and 
 the like. Not a few of these the speakers of a lan- 
 guage come gradually to perceive that they can do 
 without, and therefore cease to employ ; seeking to 
 suppress grammatical intricacies, and to obtain gram- 
 matical simplicity and, so far as possible, a pervading 
 uniformity, sometimes even at the cost of letting go 
 what had real worth, and contributed to the livelier, 
 if not to the clearer, setting forth of the inner thought 
 or feeling of the mind.^ Here there is only loss, with 
 
 ' It has been well said, ' There is nothing more certain than 
 this, that the earlier we can trace back any one language, the 
 
VI. Loss of tlie Dual. > 241 
 
 no compensating gain ; or, at all events, diminution 
 only, and never addition. In this region no produc- 
 tive energy is at work during the later periods of a 
 language, during any, indeed, but quite the earliest, 
 and such as are withdrawn from our vision altogether. 
 These are not as the leaves, of which a new succes- 
 sion takes the place of the old ; but may be likened 
 to the leading branches of a tree, whose shape, mould, 
 and direction are determined at a very early stage of 
 its growth ; and which age, or accident, or violence 
 may make fewer, but which can never become more 
 numerous than they are. I have already noticed a 
 familiar example of this, namely, the dropping within 
 historic times of the dual in Greek. And not in 
 Greek only ; others also have felt that this was not 
 worth preserving, or at all events that no serious in- 
 
 more full, complete, and consistent are its forms ; that the later 
 we find it existing, the more compressed, colloquial and business- 
 like it has become. Like the trees of our forests, it grows at 
 first wild, luxuriant, rich in foliage, full of light and shadow, 
 and flings abroad in its vast branches the fruits of a youthful 
 and vigorous nature ; transplanted to the garden of civilisation 
 and trained for the purposes of commerce, it becomes regulated, 
 trimmed, pruned— nature indeed still gives it life, but art pre- 
 scribes the direction and extent of its vegetation. Always we 
 j>erceive a compression, a gradual loss of fine distinctions, a 
 perishing of forms, terminations, and conjugations in the younger 
 state of the language. The truth is, that in a language up to a 
 certain period, there is a real indwelling vitality, a principle 
 acting unconsciously, but pervasively in every part : men wield 
 their forms of speech as they do their limbs — spontaneously, 
 knowing nothing of their construction or the means by which 
 these instruments possess their power. It may be even said that 
 the commencement of the age of self-consciousness is identical 
 with the close of that of vitality in language.' 
 
 R 
 
242 Dijnintitions of English. lect. 
 
 convenience would follow from its dismissal. There 
 is no such number in the modern German, Danish or 
 Swedish ; in the old German and Norse there was. In 
 other words, the stronger logic of a later day has 
 * found no reason for splitting the idea of jnoreness 
 into twoness and muchness^ as Mommsen has quaintly 
 put it. 
 
 How many niceties, delicacies, subtleties of lan- 
 guage, we, speakers of the English tongue, in the 
 course of centuries have got rid of ; how bare (whe- 
 ther too bare is another question) we have stripped 
 ourselves ; what simplicity, for better or for worse, 
 reigns in the present English, as compared with earHer 
 stages of the same. Once it owned six declensions, 
 it owns at present but one ; it had three genders, while 
 English as it now is, if we except one or two words, 
 has none ; and the same fact meets us, at what point 
 soever we compare the grammar of the past with that 
 of the present. Let me here repeat that in an esti- 
 mate of the gain or loss, we must not put certainly to 
 loss everything which a language has dismissed, any 
 more than everything to gain which it has acquired. 
 Unnecessary and superfluous forms are no real wealth. 
 They are often an embarrassment and an encumbrance 
 rather than a help. The Finnish language, which has 
 fifteen cases,' need not excite the envy of those who 
 may have only five. The half, or less than the half, 
 will often here prove more than the whole. Dr. 
 Bleek, than whom there can be on this subject no 
 higher authority, informs us that ' in Bushman from 
 fifty to sixty different ways of forming the plural 
 
 Barnes, Philological Grammar, p. 106. 
 
vi. Impoverishment of Grammar. 243 
 
 occur ' — surely no very enviable wealth. It therefore 
 seems to me that some words of Otfried Miiller, in 
 many ways admirable, exaggerate the disadvantages 
 consequent on a reduction of the forms of a language. 
 ' It may be observed,' he says, ' that in the lapse of 
 ages, from the time that the progress of language can 
 be observed, grammatical forms, such as the signs of 
 cases, moods, and tenses, have never been increased 
 in number, but have been constantly diminishing. 
 The history of the Romance, as well as of the Ger- 
 manic, languages shows in the clearest manner how a 
 grammar, once powerful and copious, has been gradu- 
 ally weakened and impoverished, until at last it pre- 
 serves only a few fragments of its ancient inflections. 
 Now there is no doubt that this luxuriance of gram- 
 matical forms is not an essential part of a language 
 considered merely as a vehicle of thought. It is well 
 known that the Chinese language, which is merely a 
 collection of radical words destitute of grammatical 
 forms, can express even philosophical ideas with toler- 
 able precision ; and the English, which, from the 
 mode of its formation by a mixture of different 
 tongues, has been stripped of its grammatical inflec- 
 tions more completely than any other European 
 language, seems, nevertheless, even to a foreigner, to 
 be distinguished by its energetic eloquence. All 
 this must be admitted by every unprejudiced inquirer ; 
 but yet it cannot be overlooked, that this copiousness 
 of grammatical forms, and the fine shades of meaning 
 which they express, evince a nicety of observation, 
 and a faculty of distinguishing, which unquestionably 
 prove that the race of mankind among whom these 
 languages arose was characterized by a remarkable 
 
244 Dimmutioiis of English. lixi. 
 
 correctness and subtlety of thought. Nor can any 
 modern European, who forms in his mind a hvely 
 image of the classical languages in their ancient 
 grammatical luxuriance, and compares them with his 
 mother tongue, conceal from himself that in the 
 ancient languages the words, with their inflections, 
 clothed as it were with muscles and sinews, come 
 forward like living bodies, full of expression and cha - 
 racter, while in the modern tongues the words seem 
 shrunk up into mere skeletons.' ^ 
 
 Whether languages are as much impoverished by 
 this process as is here assumed, may be fairly ques- 
 tioned. Let me offer some materials which shall assist 
 you in judging for yourselves on the niatter ; ^ not 
 
 ^ Literature of Greece, p. 5. 
 
 " I will also append t%ie judgment of another scholar (Renan, 
 Les Langues Semitiques, p. 412): Bien loin de se representer 
 I'etat actuel comme le developpement d'un germe primitif moins 
 complet et plus simple que Tetat qui a suivi, les plus profonds 
 linguistes sent unanimes pour placer a I'enfance de I'esprit 
 humain des langues synthetiques, obscures, compliquees, si com- 
 pliquees meme que c'est le besoin d'un langage plus facile qui 
 a porte les generations posterieures a abandonner la langue 
 savante des ancetres. II serait possible, en prenant I'une apres 
 I'autre les langues de presque tous les pays oil I'humanite a une 
 histoire, d'y verifier cette marche constante de la synthese a 
 I'analyse. Partout une langue ancienne a fait place a une 
 langue vulgaire, qui ne constitue pas, a vrai dire, un idiome 
 nouveau, mais plutot une transformation de celle qui I'a pre- 
 cedee : celle-ci, plus savante, chargee de flexions pour exprimer 
 les rapports infiniment delicats de la pensee, plus riche meme 
 dans son ordre d'idees, bien que cet ordre fut comparativement 
 moins etendu, image en un mot de la spontaneite primitive, oil 
 I'esprit accumulait les elements dans une confuse unite, et perdait 
 dans le tout la vue analytique des parties ; le dialecte moderne. 
 
VI. Feminines in ' ess! 245 
 
 adducing forms which the language has relinquished 
 long ago, but mainly such as it is relinquishing at this 
 present. This process, as it affects these last, and as 
 we ourselves are at this instant helping to set it for- 
 ward, will have more than a merely archaic interest for 
 us. Thus the words which retain the Romance female 
 termination in ' ess,' ^ as ' heir,' which makes ' heiress,' 
 and ' prophet ' ' prophetess ' (or ' prophetisse,' as it is 
 in Coverdale), are every day becoming fewer. This 
 has already fallen away in so many instances, and is 
 evidently becoming of unfrequent use in so many 
 more, that, if we may augur of the future from the 
 analogy of the past, it will one day wholly vanish 
 from our tongue. Thus all these occur in Wiclif s 
 Bible: 'techeress' (2 Chron. xxxv. 25); ' friendess ' 
 (Prov. vii. 4) ; ' servantess ' (Gen. xvi. 2) ; '■ leperess ' 
 (= saltatrix, Ecclus. ix. 4) ; 'daunceress' (EccJus. ix. 
 4) ; ' neighbouress ' (Exod. iii. 22) ; ' sinneress ' (Luke 
 vii. 37) ; ' purpiiress ' (Acts xvi. 14) ; ' cousiness ' (Luke 
 i. 36) ; ' slayeress ' (Tob. iii. 9) ; 'devouress ' ( Ezek. 
 xxxvi. 13) ; 'spousess' (Prov. v. 19) ; 'thralless' (Jer. 
 xxxiv. 16); 'dwelleress' (Jer. xxi. 13); 'waileress' 
 (Jer. xix. 17) ; 'cheseress' (= electrix, Wisd. viii. 4) ; 
 'singeress' (2 Chron. xxxv. 25) ; ' breakeress,' Svait- 
 eress,' this last, indeed, having recently come up 
 again. Add to these ' souteress,' ' dyssheress ' (both in 
 Piers Ploughftiaji), 'chideress,' ' constabless,' 'mover- 
 
 au contraire, correspondant a un progres d'analyse, plus clair 
 plus explicite, separant ce que les anciens assemblaient, brisant 
 les mecanismes de I'ancienne langue pour donner a chaque idee 
 et a chaque relation son expression isolee. 
 
 ' Diez, Rom. Gram. vol. iii. pp. 277, 326, 344 ; compare 
 Ronsch, Itala iind Vidgata, p. 62. 
 
246 DimimUions of English. lect. 
 
 ess/ ' jangleress,' ' vengeress,' ' soudaness ' (= sultana), 
 'guideress,' ' charmeress'(a]l in Chaucer); 'forgeress,' 
 ' graveress,' ' goldsmithess,' ' bigelouress ' (all in the 
 Pilgrijnage of the Life of Manhood) ; 'cellaress,' ' cham- 
 beress,' ' treasuress ' (all in the MvToiir of our Lady). 
 Others reached to far later periods of the language ; 
 thus ' vanqueress ' (Fabyan), ' Ethiopess ' (Raleigh), 
 ' exactress ' (Isai. xiv, 4, margin), ' inhabitress ' (Jer. x. 
 17); ' poisoneress ' (Greneway) ; 'knightess' (Udal) ; 
 '■ oratress ' (Warner), ' pedleress,' ' championess,' ' vas- 
 saless,' ' avengeress,' ' warriouress,' ' victoress,' ' con- 
 queress,' ' creatress/ 'tyranness,' 'Titaness,' 'Britoness' 
 (all in Spenser) ; 'offendress,' 'fornicatress,' 'cloistress,' 
 ' jointress ' (all in ^Shakespeare) \ 'vowess' (Holinshed); 
 ' ministress,' ' paintress,' ' flatteress,' ' directress ' (all in 
 Holland); 'captainess' (Sidney); 'treasuress' {The 
 Golden Boke) ; ' saintess ' (Sir T, Urquhart) ; ' leadress ' 
 (F. Thynne) ; ' heroess,' ' dragoness,' ' butleress,' ' con- 
 tendress,' ' waggoness,' ' rectress ' (all in Chapman) ; 
 ' Turkess ' (Marlowe) ; ' shootress ' (Fairfax) ; ' archeress ' 
 (Fanshawe); ' architectress ' (Sandys) ; 'clientess,' 'pan- 
 dress' (both in Middleton); 'papess,' ' Jesuitess' (both 
 in Bishop Hall) ; ' incitress ' (Gayton) ; ' mediatress ' 
 (H. More); ' fau tress,' 'herdess' (both in Browne); 
 ' neatress ' (=neat-herdess, Warner); ' soldieress,' 
 ' guardianess,' ' votaress ' (all in Beaumont and Flet- 
 cher) ; ' comfortress,' 'fosteress' (both in Ben Jonson); 
 ' factress ' (Ford) ; ' soveraintess ' (Sylvester) ; ' preser- 
 veress ' (Daniel) ; ' hermitress ' (Drummond) ; ' emu- 
 latress' (Skelton); ' solicitress,' 'impostress,' 'buildress,' 
 ' intrudress,' ' moderatress,' ' patriarch ess,' ' presiden- 
 tess ' (all in Fuller) ; ' favouress ' (Hakewell) ; ' com- 
 mandress ' (Burton) ; ' monarchess,' ' discipless ' 
 
VI. Feminines in ' ster! 247 
 
 (Speed) ; * auditress,' ' cateress/ ' chantress,' ' pre- 
 latess ' (all in Milton) ; ' saviouress ' (Jeremy Taylor) ; 
 ' citess,' ' divineress ' (both in Dryden) ; ' deaness ' 
 (Sterne); ' detractress ' (Addison); ' hucksteress ' 
 (Howell) ; 'tutoress,' ' legislatress ' (both in Shaftes- 
 bury) : ' farmeress ' (Lord Peterborough, Letter to 
 Pope); 'suitress' (Rowe) ; ' nomenclatress ' {Guar- 
 dian) ', 'rivaless' (Richardson); ' pilgrimess,' ' lad- 
 dess/ this last still surviving in the contracted form of 
 ' lass ; ' with others which a catalogue that made any 
 claims to completeness would contain.^ Tennyson's 
 ' ostleress' is a proof that the power of forming words 
 on this scheme has not wholly gone from us, unless 
 indeed this should be only a revival. 
 
 What happened to one has happened also to 
 another feminine suffix, the Saxon ' ster,' which takes 
 the place of ' er,' where a female doer is intended.'^ 
 ' Spinner 'and ' spinster ' are the only pair of such words 
 which still survive. There were formerly many such ; 
 thus 'baker' had ' bakester,' being the female who 
 baked ; ' brewer ' had ' brewster ' i^Piers Ploughman) ; 
 ' sewer ' ' sewster ' (Ben Jonson) ; ' reader' ' readster ; ' 
 ' seamer ' ' seamster ; ' ' weaver ' ' webster ' (Golding); 
 ' fruiterer ' ' fruitester ; ' ' tumbler ' ' tumblester ' (both 
 in Chaucer) ; ' hanger ' or hangman 'hangstre ;' ' host ' 
 
 ' In Cotgrave's Z>/<;//<:>«an' I note ' commendress,' 'fluteress,' 
 'loveress,' ' possessoress,' ' praiseress,' 'regentess,' but have 
 never met them in use ; ' chieftainess ' only m Sir Walter Scott 
 {Rob Roy), who seems to suppose that he has invented it, which 
 can scarcely be the case. 
 
 - On this termination see J. Grimm, Dezitsche Gram., vol. 
 ii. p. 134 ; vol. iii. p. 339 ; Donaldson, N'ew Cratylus, 3rd edit. 
 p. 419. 
 
248 Diminutions of English. Lect. 
 
 ' hotestre ' {Ayenbite) ; ' knitter ' ' knitster ' (the word 
 still lives in Devon), Add to these ' whitster ' (a 
 female bleacher, Shakespeare), ' bandster,' the woman 
 binding up the sheaves (Cleveland dialect), ' wafrester,' 
 the woman making wafers for the \jnest (Fiers F/ot/g/i- 
 nian) ; ' kempster ' (pectrix), ' dryster ' (siccatrix), 
 'brawdster ' (=embroideress), and 'salster' (salinaria).^ 
 ' Harpster ' I have never met in use, but have seen it 
 quoted. It is a singular evidence of the richness of a 
 language in forms at the earlier stages of its existence, 
 that not a few of the words which had, as we have 
 just seen, a feminine termination in ' ess,' had also a 
 second in ' ster.' Thus ' daunser,' beside ' daunseress,' 
 had also ' daunster' (Ecclus. ix. 4); 'waller,' beside 
 ' waileress,' had 'wailster' (Jer. ix. 17) ; ' dweller' had 
 'dwelster' (Jer. xxi. 13); and 'singer' 'singster' 
 (2 Kin. xix. 35) ; ' slayer' had ' slayster ' (Tob. iii. 9), 
 as well as ' slayeress ; ' ' chooser ' ' chesister ' (Wisd. 
 viii. 4), as well as ' cheseress ; ' so too ' chider ' had 
 'chidester' (Chaucer), as well as 'chideress;' with 
 others that might be named. 
 
 It is impossible then to subscribe to Marsh's state- 
 ment, high as his autliority on a matter of English 
 scholarship must be, when he affirms, ' I find no 
 positive evidence to show that the termination " ster" 
 was ever regarded as a feminine termination in Eng- 
 lish.' 2 It has indeed been urged that the existence 
 
 ' I owe these last four to a A'aviiiiale in the National An- 
 tiqnities^ vol. i. p. 2 1 6, but have not met them in use. 
 
 - If indeed he had said that there are certain perplexing 
 exceptions to this rule, words with this termination, although 
 very few, applied at an early date to men and not to women, 
 as ' dempster ' (= judge), 'thakster' ( — thatcher), 'shepster' 
 
VI. New Words in ^ ster.' 249 
 
 of such words as ' seams tr^jrj-,' ' songstr^i-j"/ is decisive 
 proof that the ending '■ ster ' or ' estre/ of itself was 
 not counted sufficient to designate persons as female ; 
 since if 'seami-/<?r' and ' songj-/<?;'' had been felt to be 
 already feminine, no one would have thought of 
 doubling on these, and adding a second female ter- 
 mination ; '■ seamj/;'^j-jr,' ' '^Qngstress.^ But all which 
 this proves is, that when the final ' ess ' was super- 
 added to these already feminine forms, and all exam- 
 ples of It belong to a comparatively late period of the 
 language, the true significance of this ending had 
 been lost sight of and forgotten.^ The same may be 
 affirmed of such other of these feminine forms as are 
 now applied to men, such as 'gamester,' 'youngster,' 
 ' oldster,' ' drugster ' (South), ' huckster,' ' hackster ' 
 ( = swordsman, Milton, prose), 'wooster,' ' seedster ' 
 { = sower), 'teamster,' 'throwster,' 'rhymester,' 'pun- 
 ster ' {Spectator), ' tapster,' ' maltster,' ' whipster,' ' lewd- 
 ster ' (Shakespeare), ' trickster.' Either like ' teamster' 
 and ' punster,' the words did not come into being till 
 the force of this termination was altogether forgotten ; - 
 
 ( = sheep shearer), this, but not more than this, would be true ; 
 see Morris, RiiglisJi Accidetice, p. 89 ; Matzner, Engl. Gram., 
 vol. i. p. 434. 
 
 * Richardson's earliest example of ' seamstress ' is from Gay, 
 of ' songstress,' from Thomson. I find however 'sempstress' 
 in Olearius' Voyages and Travels, 1669, p. 43. As late as Ben 
 Jonson, ' seamster ' and ' songster ' expressed the female seamer 
 and singer ; in his Alasque of Chrislmas, one of the children of 
 Christmas is ' Wassel, like a neat sempster and songster ; her 
 page bearing a brown bowl.' Compare a passage from Holland's 
 Leaguer, 1632 : ' A tyre -woman of phantastical ornaments, a 
 sempster for ruffes, cuffes, smocks and waistcoats.' 
 
 2 This was about the time of Henry VIII. In proof of the 
 
250 Diminvtions of English. lect. 
 
 or like ' tapster,' which was still female in Skelton's 
 time (' a tapster like a lady bright '), as it is now in 
 Dutch and Frisian, being distinguished from ' tapper,' 
 the 77ian who has charge of the tap, or as ' bakester,' 
 at this day used in Scotland for ' baker,' as ' dyester ' 
 for ' dyer,' the word did originally belong of right 
 and exclusively to women ; ^ but with the gradual 
 transfer of the occupation to men, and an increasing 
 forgetfulness of what this termination implied, there 
 went also a transfer of the name,''^ just as in other 
 
 confusion which reigned on the subject in Shakespeare's time, 
 see his use of 'spinster' as = 'spinner,' the man spinning, 
 Henry VIIL, Act i. Sc. 2 ; and doubtless too in Othello, Act i. 
 Sc. I. And a little later, in Howell's Vocabjilary, 1659, 
 ' spinner ' and ' spinster ' are both referred to the male sex, and 
 the barbarous ' spinstress ' invented for the female. 
 
 * The Latin equivalent for ' maltster ' in the Pro7nptorinm 
 Pan<iilon4ni is ' brasia/;'/x. ' 
 
 - In the N'ojninale referred to, p. 237, the words, ' hsecauxia- 
 trix, a Jinkster,'' occur. That the huckster is properly "Ca: female 
 pedlar is sufficiently plain. ' To hawk ' was formerly 'to huck ' 
 ■ — it is so used by Bishop Andrewes, and the ' hucker ' or hawker 
 (the German 'hoker' or 'hocker')is the man who 'bucks,' 
 'hawks,' or peddles, the 'huckster' the ivoman who does the 
 same. Howell then and others employing 'huckstert'j'j-' fall into 
 the same barbarous excess of expression, whereof we are all 
 guilty in 'seamstress' and 'songstress.' I take the opportunity 
 of noting another curious excess of expression that has succeeded 
 in establishing itself in the language. In books of two or three 
 hundred years ago, we find 'adulter' (Tyndale), 'poulter' 
 (Shakespeare), 'cater' (Drayton), ' royster ' (Gascoigne), 'up- 
 holster' (Strype), 'embroider' (Holland), 'stutter' (the same); 
 and these all sufficiently justify themselves ; ' adulter,' a transfer 
 of a Latin word into Lnglish, ' poulter ' one dealing in poults, 
 'cater,' in cates, 'stutter' one that stuts, and so on ; but the 
 sense of this final 'er,' the remnant of the Anglo-Saxon 'wer,' 
 
VI. Meaning of Forms forgotte}!. 251 
 
 words, and out of the same causes, the converse finds 
 place ; and * baker ' or ' brewer/ not ' bakester ' or 
 ' brewster/ would be now applied to the woman 
 baking or brewing. wSo entirely has this power of the 
 language died out, that it survives more apparently 
 than really even in ' spinner ' and ' spinster ; ' seeing 
 that ' spinster ' has now quite another meaning than 
 that of a woman spinning ; whom, as well as the man, 
 we should call, not a ' spinster,' but a ' spinner.' ^ It 
 would be hard to believe, but for the constant ex- 
 perience we have of the fact, how soon and how 
 easily the true law and significance of some form, 
 which has never ceased to be in everybody's mouth, 
 may yet be lost sight of by all. No more curious 
 
 a man, and of what it indicates, namely the habitual doer of a 
 thing, is so strong, that men could not be content without 
 adding it a second time to all these words ; and they are 
 severally now 'adulterer,' 'poulterer,' 'caterer,' 'roysterer,' 
 'upholsterer,' 'embroiderer' 'stutterer.' 'Fripperer,' which 
 in our early literature is as common as ' fripper,' might be added, 
 ' Launder' in like manner became ' launderer,' though both one 
 and the other have now given way to 'laundress ;' snd 'augur,' 
 in Shakespeare at least, to 'augurer,' though this is not a perfect 
 parallel. In 'scrivener,' which with Chaucer was ' scriven ' 
 (ecrivain), the superadded ' er' has made good its place. That 
 this superaddition has its root in the linguistic instinct of our 
 people is evident from the fact that the same has been attempted 
 in other words, though without the same success ; thus ' fisherer ' 
 (it occurs in Cotgrave) is in provincial usage for 'fisher' (see 
 Forby and other local glossaries) ; and the same has extended to 
 words of a different formation, as to 'burglarer' for 'burglar' 
 (Butler's ////^//^r<7j-); to ' musicianer,' ' physicianer,' ' masoner ' 
 (all in Forby); to ' politicianer,' a vulgar Americanism; to 
 ' poster,' a vulgar Anglicism, and to others. 
 ' Notes and Queries, No. 157. 
 
252 Dimmutioiis of English. lect. 
 
 chapter in the history of language could be written 
 than one which should irace the transgressions of 
 its most primary laws, the violations of analogy 
 and the like, which follow hereupon ; the plurals, as 
 ' chicken,' ^ which are dealt with as singulars, the 
 singulars, like ' riches ' (richesse),^ ' pease ' (pisum, 
 pois),^ ' alms ' (' almesse ' in Coverdale), ' summons '" 
 (summoneas), ' eaves ' (efese), ' Cyclops,' which on 
 the score of the final ' s ' are assumed to be plurals ; ^ 
 
 ' When WrJlis wrote, it was only beginning to be forgotten 
 that ' chick ' was the singular, and ' chicken ' the plural : ' Siuit 
 qui dicjifit in singulari " chicken," et in plurali "chickens;"' 
 and even now the words are in many countiy parts correctly 
 employed. In Sussex, a correspondent writes to me, they 
 would as soon think of saying ' oxens ' as ' chickens.' 
 
 - See Chaucer, Roiiiaiint of the Rose, 1032, where Richesse, 
 ' an high lady of great noblesse,' is one of the persons of the 
 allegory. In Tyndale's Version of the Bible we read (Jam. v. 
 2), 'Your riches is corrupte ; ' in the Geneva 'is' has given 
 place to ' are,' which stands in our Version. This has so entirely 
 escaped Ben Jonson, English scholar as he was, that in his 
 Gratn/nar he cites ' riches ' as an example of an English word 
 wanting a singular ; and at a later day Wemyss [Biblical Glean- 
 ings, p. 212) complains of a false concord at Rev. xviii. 17 : 
 'For in one hour so great riches is come to nought.' Com- 
 pare Wisdom of Solomon, v. 8, 
 
 * ' Set shallow brooks to surging seas. 
 
 An orient pearl to a white /twj-^.' — Puttenham. 
 
 On 'pea' and 'pease' see the Transactions of the Philological 
 Society, 1 873, 1874, p. 256. 
 
 ■* It has been well said that of the many influences which 
 are evermore at work for the injury of a language, there is none 
 which works so effectually for the barbarizing of it as the dying 
 out of what may be called the ' speech-feeling ' among the mass 
 of those Mho use it. By this ' speech-feeling ' is meant a 
 knowledge, or if not a knowledge yet an instinctive sense, of 
 
VI. The inflected Genitive. 253 
 
 thus Tennyson writes 'cottage eave,' and Macaulay a 
 ' Cyclop.' 
 
 One example of the kind is familiar to us all ; to 
 which yet it may be worth adverting as a signal 
 example of this forgetfulness which may overtake a 
 whole people, of the true meaning of a grammatical 
 form which they have never ceased to employ. I 
 refer to the mistaken assumption that tlie ' s ' of the 
 genitive, as ' the king's countenance,' was merely a 
 more rapid way of pronouncing ' the king his coun- 
 tenance,' and that the final ' s ' in ' king's ' was in fact 
 an ehded 'his.' This explanation for a long time 
 prevailed almost universally ; I believe there are 
 many who accept it still. It was in vain that here 
 and there one more accurately acquainted with the 
 past history of our tongue protested against this 
 ' monstrous syntax,' as Ben Jonson justly calls it ; 
 though curiously enough, despite this protest, one of 
 his plays has for its name, Sejanus Jiis Fall, and 
 another, Catiline his Co?ispiracy. It was in vain that 
 Wallis, another English scholar of the seventeenth 
 century, pointed out that the slightest examination of 
 the facts revealed the untenable character of this ex- 
 planation, seeing that we do not merely say ' the king's 
 countenance,' but ' the quee?i's countenance ; ' where 
 ' the queen his countenance ' cannot be intended ; ^ 
 
 the significance of its forms. Philologically trained the great 
 majority of the speakers of a language can never be ; but there 
 is a time when they have an innate instinctive consciousness of 
 the meaning of its forms, which at a later period inevitably 
 passes from them. It can hardly be denied that with us th's 
 period has arrived. 
 
 • Even this does not startle Addison, or cause him any mis- 
 
254 Diminutions of English. lect. 
 
 we do not say merely ' the child's bread,' but ' the 
 chilaren's bread/ where it is no less impossible to 
 resolve the phrase into ' the children his bread/ ^ Not- 
 withstanding these protests, the error held its ground. 
 This much indeed of a plea it could make for itself, 
 that such an actual employment of ' his ' had found 
 its way into the language, as early as the fourteenth 
 century, and had been in occasional, though rare use, 
 from that time downward.^ Yet this, which has only 
 been elicited by the researches of recent scholars, does 
 not in the least justify those who assumed that in the 
 ordinary 's' of the genitive vvere to be found the re- 
 mains of ' his ' — an error from which the books of 
 scholars in the seventeenth, and in the early decades 
 of the eighteenth, century are not a whit clearer than 
 
 giving; on the contrary he boldly asserts {Spectator^ No. 135), 
 ' The same single letter " s" on many occasions does the office 
 of a whole word, and represents the "his" or '■'■her'''' of our 
 forefathers. ' 
 
 ' Wall is excellently well disposes of this scheme, although 
 less successful in showing what this ' s ' does mean than in 
 showing what it cannot mean {Gramm. Ling. Anglic, c. v. ) : 
 Qui autem arbitrantur illud s, loco his adjunctum esse (priori 
 scilicet parte per aphaeresim abscissa), ideoque apostrophi notam 
 semper vel pingendam esse, vel saltern subintelligendam, omnino 
 errant. Quamvis enim non negem quin apostrophi nota commode 
 nonnunquam affigi possit, ut ipsius litteras s usus distinctius, ubi 
 opus est, percipiatur ; ita tamen semper fieri debere, aut etiam 
 ideo fieri quia vocem his innuat, omnino nego. Adjungitur enim 
 et foeminarum nominibus propriis, et substantivis pluralibus, ubi 
 vox his sine soloecismo locum habere non potest : atque etiam in 
 possessivis ours, yours, theirs, hers, ubi vocem his innui nemo 
 somniaret. 
 
 - See the proofs in Marsh, Manual of the E^iglish Language, 
 English Edit , pp. 280, 293. 
 
VI. The inflected Genitive. 255 
 
 those of others. Spenser, Donne, Fuller, Jeremy Tay- 
 lor, all fall into it ; Dryden more than once helps out 
 his verse with an additional syllable in this way gained. 
 It has forced itself into our Prayer Book, where the 
 ' Prayer for all conditions of men,' added at the last 
 revision of the Book in 1662, ends with these words, 
 ' and this we beg for Jesus Christ his sake.' ^ I need 
 hardly tell you that this ' s ' is in fact the one remnant 
 of flexion surviving in the singular number of our 
 EngHsh noun substantives ; it is in all the Indo-Euro- 
 pean languages the original sign of the genitive, or at 
 any rate the earliest of which we can take cognizance; 
 and just as in Latin ' lapis ' makes ' lapidis ' in the 
 genitive, so ' king,' ' queen,' ' child,' make severally 
 ' kings,' ' queens,' ' childs,' the apostrophe, an apparent 
 note of elision, being a mere modern expedient, ' a 
 late refinement,' as Ash calls it,^ to distinguish the 
 genitive singular from the plural cases. ^ 
 
 1 It would not exceed the authority of our University Presses, 
 if this were removed from the Prayer Book. Such a liberty they 
 have already assumed with the Bible. In all earlier editions of 
 the Authorized Version it stood at I Kin. xv. 14 : * Nevertheless 
 Asa his heart was perfect with the Lord ; ' it is * Asd!s heart ' 
 now ; as it was in Tyndale. In the same way ' Mordecai his 
 matters ' (Esth. iii. 4) has been silently changed into ' Mordecai' s 
 matters ; ' while ' by Naomi her instruction Ruth lieth at Boaz 
 Jiis feet,' in the heading of Ruth iii., has been as little allowed 
 to stand. 
 
 - In a good note on the matter, p. 6, in the Comprehensive 
 Graminar prefixed to his Diciiona?'}', London, 1775. 
 
 ^ See Grimm, Deutsche Gram., vol. ii. pp. 609, 944 ; and 
 on the remarkable employment of it not merely as the sign of 
 the genitive singular, but also of the genitive plural, Loth, 
 Angelsdchsisch-Englische Graminatik, p. 203. 
 
256 Diminutions of English. Lect. 
 
 I will call to your notice another example of this 
 willingness to dispense with inflection, of this en- 
 deavour to reduce the forms of a language to tlie 
 fewest possible, consistent with the accurate commu- 
 nication of thought. Of our adjectives in ' en/ formed 
 on substantives, and expressing the material or sub- 
 stance of a thing, the Greek n'oc, a vast number have 
 gone, many more are going, out of use ; we having 
 learned to content ourselves with the bare juxtaposi- 
 tion of the substantive itself, as sufiiciently expressing 
 our meaning. Thus instead of ''golden pin ' we say 
 '■gold pin ; ' instead of ' earthen works ' we say ' eai'th- 
 works.' ' Golden 'and ' earthen,' it is true, still belong- 
 to our living speech, though mainly as part of our 
 l^oetic diction, or of the solemn and stereotyped lan- 
 guage of Scripture ; but a wiiole company of such 
 words have nearly or quite disappeared ; some re- 
 cently, some long ago. ' Clouden,' ' firen,' ' flowren,' 
 ' rocken,' ' steelen,' ' thornen,' belong, so far as I know, 
 only to a very early period of the language ; 'thornen,' 
 however, is still alive in some of our country dialects. 
 ' Rosen ' also went early ; Chaucer is my latest autho- 
 rity for it {^rosen chapelet') ; as also for 'iven,' or of 
 ivy ; ' stonen ' is in WicHf (John ii. 6) : ^ 'hairen' in 
 him and in Chaucer. ' Silvern ' stood originally in 
 Wiclifs Bible (' silverne housis to Diane,' Acts xix. 24); 
 but already in the second recension this was exchanged 
 
 ' The existence of ' stony ' ( = lapidosus, steinig) does not 
 make ' stonen ' ( — lapideus, steinern) superfluous any more than 
 ' earthy ' makes ' earthen ' and 'earthly.' That part of the field 
 in which the good seed withered so quickly (Matt. xiii. 5) was 
 'stony;' the vessels which held the water turned into wine 
 (John ii. 6) were 'stonen." 
 
VI. Adjectives in ^ en' disappear. 257 
 
 for ' silver; ^ ' hornen/ still in our dialects, he also em- 
 ploys, with 'clayen' (Job iv. 19), and 'iverene' or 
 made of ivory (Cant. vi. 4). ' Bonen,' or made of 
 bone, occurs in the Townley Mysteries ; ' birchen ' in 
 Tyndale ; ' tinnen ' in Sylvester ; while in Bacon it is 
 never ' the Milky Way,' but ' the Milken.' In the 
 coarse polemics of the Reformation the phrase, 
 ' breaden god,' provoked by the Romish doctrine of 
 transubstantiation, is of frequent recurrence, and is 
 found as late as in Oldham. '■ Mothen parchments i 
 is in Fulke ; ' tiviggen bottle ' and ' threaden sail ' in 
 Shakespeare ; ^ yeiven' or ^ ezvghen bow,' in Spenser ; 
 ^ cedarn alley ' and ' azwn sheen ' in Milton ; ' boxen 
 leaves' in Dryden ; 'a^^r^d-z^ladderMn Arthur Brooke; 
 ' a treen cup ' in Jeremy Taylor ; ' eldern popguns ' in 
 Sir Thomas Overbury ; ^d. glassen breast' in Whitlock; 
 * a reeden hat ' in Coryat ; ' a wispen garland ' in Ga- 
 briel Harvey ; ' yarnen ' occurs in Tuberville ; ' fursen ' 
 in Holland ; while ' bricken,' ' papern,' ' elmen,' appear 
 from our provincial glossaries to be still in use.^ 
 
 It is true that some of these adjectives still hold 
 their ground ; but the roots which sustain even these 
 are being gradually cut away from beneath them. 
 Thus ' brazen ' might at first sight seem as strongly es- 
 tablished in the language as ever ; but this is very far 
 from the case. Even now it only lives in a tropical 
 and secondary use, as ' a bi-azen face ;' or if in a 
 literal, in poetic diction or in the consecrated language 
 of Scripture, as ' the brazen serpent ; ' otherwise we 
 
 ' For a long list of words of this formation which never 
 passed from Early into Middle English, see Loth, Angelsachsis^ch- 
 Englische Grammatik, p. 332. 
 
 S 
 
258 Dmiinutio7ts of English. lect. 
 
 say ' a brass farthing/ 'a hi-ass candlestick.' It is the 
 same with * oaten/ ' oaken/ ' birchen/ ' beechen/ 
 ' strawen/and many more, whereof some are obsoles- 
 cent, some obsolete, the language manifestly tending 
 now, as it has tended for centuries past, to the getting 
 quit of them all, and to the satisfying itself with an 
 adjectival apposition of the substantive instead. 
 
 There are other examples of the manner in which 
 a language, as it travels onward, simplifies itself, ap- 
 proaches more and more to a grammatical and logical 
 uniformity, seeks to do the same thing always in the 
 same manner ; where it has two or more ways of con- 
 ducting a single operation, disuses, and so in the end 
 loses, all save one ; and thus becomes, no doubt, 
 easier to be mastered, more handy and manageable ; 
 for its very riches prove an embarrassment and a per- 
 plexity to many ; but at the same time limits and 
 restrains its own freedom of action, and is in danger 
 of forfeiting elements of strength, variety and beauty, 
 which it once possessed. Take for instance the ten- 
 dency of our verbs to let go their strong preterites, 
 and to substitute weak ones in their room ; or, where 
 they have two or three preterites, to retain only one 
 of these, and that almost invariably the weak. But 
 here let me explain what these terms, strong preterites 
 and weak — terms objected to by some, but with no 
 sufficient reason — severally mean. The Indo-Euro- 
 pean languages at the earliest period that we know 
 formed their preterites by reduplication, by a repeti- 
 tion that is of the root ; of which not inconsiderable 
 traces still remain in the Latin, as in ' cano ' ' cecini,' 
 ' tundo ' ' tutudi,' and, though not so clearly, in ' video,' 
 ' vidi' (=* vividi') ; while the same forms part of the 
 
vi. Stro7ig and weak Preterites. 259 
 
 regular scheme of the Greek conjugation. But this 
 reduplication only survived in one of the Teutonic 
 dialects. From our Old English it had died oift, 
 leaving the very faintest traces behind it, long before 
 the times which come within the scope of our vision. 
 But with the perishing of this, the internal vowel- 
 change, or variation of the radical vowel (we want 
 some good equivalent for the German ' ablaut '), which 
 appears to have been properly no more than an eu- 
 phonic process, was adopted as a means of marking 
 flexion, and as the sign for the past ; thus ' grow ' 
 ' grew,' ' cleave ' ' clove,' ' dive ' ' dove.' At a later 
 day men sought some plainer and more obvious 
 sign in the room of one which was felt to have so 
 much of indeterminate and capricious about it ; and 
 as often as new verbs were introduced into the lan- 
 guage, they marked the preterite in these by adding 
 to the verb in its crude state ' d,' or for euphony's 
 sake ' t,' this suffix being a mutilated form of the aux- 
 iliary verb ' do,' and united to the root by aid of the 
 vowel ' e ; ' thus ' I thank,' in the perfect ' I thank-e-d; ' 
 leaving in most instances the radical vowel un- 
 changed.^ It will follow from this that the strong 
 verbs are invariably the older, the weak the newer, in 
 the language.^ 
 
 * Earle, Philology of the English Tongue, p. 253. 
 
 - Grimm {Deutsche Gram., vol. i. p. 1040) : Dass die starke 
 Form die altere, kraftigere, innere ; die schwache die spatere, 
 gehemmtere und mehr ausserliche sey, leuchtet ein. Elsewhere, 
 speaking generally of inflections by internal vowel change, he 
 characterizes them as a 'chief beauty' (Hauptschonheit) of the 
 Teutonic languages. Marsh {Manual of the English Language, 
 p. 233, English ed.) protests, though, as it seems to me, on no 
 
 s 2 
 
26o Dhninutions of English. lect. 
 
 But for all this the victory has not remained with 
 the strong. The weak have been too much for them, 
 so that multitudes among the strong have already dis- 
 appeared, many more are in process of disappearing. 
 For example, ' shape ' has now a weak preterite, 
 ' shaped,' it had once a strong one, ' shope ' (Cover- 
 dale); ' bake ' has now a weak preterite, ' baked,' it 
 liad once a strong one, ' boke ; ' the preterite of 
 ' glide ' is now ' glided,' it was once ' glode ' or ' glid ; ' 
 ' help ' makes now ' helped,' it made once ' halp ' and 
 * holp.' ' Creep ' made ' crope,' still current in the 
 north of England, and 'crep' {Story of Genesis) ; 
 ' weep ' ' wope ' and ' wep ; ' ' yell ' ' yoll ; ' ' starve ' 
 ' storve ; ' 'washe ' ' wishe ' (all in Chaucer) ; ' seethe ' 
 ' soth ' or ' sod ' (Gen. xxv. 29) ; ' sheer ' once made 
 ' shore ; ' as ' leap ' made ' lep ' and ' lope ' (Spenser); 
 'snow' 'snew;' 'thaw' 'thew;' 'gnaw' 'gnew;' 
 'sow ''sew;' 'delve' 'dalf and 'dolve;' 'sweat' 
 'swat;' 'yield' 'yold' (both in Spenser) and also 
 ' yald ; ' ' reach ' ' raught ; ' ' melt ' ' molt ; ' ' wax ' 
 ' wex ' and ' wox ; ' ' squeeze ' ' squoze ; ' ' laugh ' 
 ' leugh ; ' ' knead ' ' kned ; ' ' beat ' ' bet ' (Coverdale) ; 
 with others more than can be enumerated here.^ A 
 
 sufficient grounds, against these terms 'strong' and 'weak,' as 
 themselves fanciful and inappropriate. 
 
 ' The entire ignorance as to the past historic evolution of the 
 language, with which some have undertaken to write about it, is 
 curious. Thus the author of Observations iipon the English 
 Language, without date, but published about 1730, treats all 
 these strong preterites as of recent introduction, counting 'knew' 
 to have lately expelled 'knowed,' 'rose' to have acted the same 
 part towards ' rised,' and of course esteeming them so many 
 barbarous violations of the laws of the language ; and concluding 
 
VI. Stro7ig and weak Preterites. 261 
 
 very large numberof these strong forms still hold their 
 ground in our provincial dialects. 
 
 Observe further that where verbs have not actually 
 renounced their strong preterites^ contenting them- 
 selves with weak in their room, yet, once possessing 
 two, perhaps three of these strong, they now retain 
 only one. The others they have let go. Thus ' chide ' 
 had once ' chid ' and ' chode,' but though ' chode ' is 
 in our Bible (Gen. xxxi. 2)^), it has not maintained 
 itself in our speech ; ' sling ^ had ' slung ' and ' slang ' 
 (i Sam. xvii. 49) ; only ' slung ^ remains ; ' fling ^ had 
 once ' flung ' and ' flang ; ' ' strive ' had ' strove ' and 
 ' strave ' (Holland) ; ' smite ' had 'smote' and 'smate ;' 
 * tread ' had ' trod ' and ' trad ; ' ' choose ' had ' chose ' 
 and ' chase ' (Elyot) ; ' give ' had ' gove' and ' gave ; ' 
 ' spin ' ' spun ' and ' span ; ' ' steal ' ' stole ^ and ' stale ; ' 
 ' lead ' had ' lode ' ' led ' and Mad ; ' ' write ' ' writ ' 
 ' wrote ' and ' wrate.' In these instances, and in many 
 more, only one preterite remains in use. 
 
 Observe too that wherever a struggle is now going 
 forward between weak and strong forms, which shall 
 continue, the weak are carrying the day : ' climbed ' 
 is gaining the upper hand of ' clomb,' ' swelled ' of 
 ' swoll,' ' hanged ' of ' hung.' There are, it is true. 
 
 with the warning that ' great care must be taken to prevent 
 their increase.' ! ! — p. 24. Cobbett does not fall into this ab- 
 surdity, yet proposes in his English Gramma}', that they should 
 all be abolished as inconvenient. There are two letters in The 
 Spectator, Nos. 78 and 80, on the relations between * who,' 
 * which,' and ' that,' singularly illustrative of the same absolute 
 ignorance of the whole past of the language. The writers 
 throughout assume ' that ' to have recently displaced ' which, ' as 
 a relative pronoun ! 
 
262 DiniimUions of English. lect. 
 
 exceptions to this ; and these not quite so few as 
 at first one might suppose. Thus ' they have digged 
 a pit ' stands in our Bible ; we should now say ' dug/ 
 ^ Shaked,' ' shined,' ' wringed,' and ' shrinked ' in like 
 manner are there ; while we now only admit ' shook/ 
 ' shone/ ' wTung/ and ' shrunk ' or ' shrank.' ' To 
 catch ' had ' catched ' as well as ' caught ; ' and ' to 
 blow' had ' blowed ' (both in Bacon); ' to strive ' had 
 ' strived ' (Spenser and Shakespeare); ' to stick ' makes 
 ' sticked ' in Coverdale's Bible ; it has only ' stuck ' 
 for a preterite now ; in the same ' to swim ' had 
 ' swimmed ; ' it has now only ' swum ' or ' swam/ pro- 
 perly only this last. ' Growed ' and not ' grew ' is in 
 Piers Floug/miaji the perfect of ' to grow; ' ' becomed ' 
 and ' misbecomed' are in Shakespeare; ' understanded' 
 and not ' understood ' in our Articles. But these are 
 the exceptions ; the exact reverse of this is the pre- 
 vailing tendency of the language, and we may antici- 
 pate a time, though still far off, when all English verbs 
 will form their preterites weakly ; not without serious 
 detriment to the fulness, variety, and force, which in 
 this respect the language even now displays, and once 
 far more signally displayed.^ 
 
 The ravages which analogy is making in a lan- 
 guage are incessant, — that which is sometimes or which 
 is often, claiming to be always. Not seldom the 
 analogy is false and deceptive ; as in the matter of 
 spelling Archdeacon Hare would have shown so well 
 in a treatise, of which the printing was interrupted by 
 
 ' J. Grimm [Deutsche Gram., vol. i, p. 839) : Die starke 
 Flexion stufenweise versinkt und ausstirbt, die schwache aber um 
 sich greift. Cf. i. 994, 1040 ; ii. 5 ; iv. 509. 
 
VI. Strong and weak Preterites. 263 
 
 his death, and has never been renewed ; but, even 
 where this cannot be said of it, it will substitute a poor 
 uniformity for a rich variety. We have just seen what 
 it has done with our perfects active ; let us see what it 
 has not less effectually done with our participles pas- 
 sive. All our strong verbs formed originally their 
 passive participles in ' en ' or ' n.' But with the 
 multiplication of weak verbs, whose participles ended 
 in ' ed,' there has followed a constant effort, and one 
 too often successful, to reduce the older to the same 
 'scheme. Many, it is true, have resisted, and will now 
 probably resist to the end. But others not a few, as 
 ' bounden,' ' graven,' ' holden,' have already an archaic 
 air about them ; or, like ' foughten,' ' holpen,' ' paven,' 
 would scarcely be used except in poetry. For very 
 many more analogy has effectually done its work in 
 driving them out of use. Thus 'baken,' 'folden,' 
 '- shapen,' ' unwashen ' (all in our English Bible), 
 ' abiden,' ' founden,' ' hoven,' '■ reapen ' (all in Wiclif s 
 Bible), 'dolven' (Piers Ploughman), ' corven,' 'kneden' 
 (Chaucer), ' betrayne ' {Sir Scudamore), ' achieven,' 
 '■ overcomen,' ' gilden ' (all in Spenser), ' fretten,' ' sain ' 
 (both in Shakespeare), ' casten ' (Coverdale), ' cliven ' 
 (Golding), ' usen ' (Rogers), ' gnawn' (Racket), ' sitten' 
 (Holland), ' snown ' (North), ' lopen ' (Surrey), have 
 been dropt altogether ; or where they survive at all, 
 this is only, as is so often the manner with archaisms, 
 in our dialects ; as, for example, in Cumbrian we meet 
 ' cutten,' ' knodden,' ' putten,' ' setten,' ' stucken,' with 
 others. 
 
 It is found in practice that men care very little for 
 grammatical right, when by the ignoring of this they 
 can obtain a handier implement for use. The con- 
 
264 Diminutions of English. Lect. 
 
 sideration of convenience will override for them every 
 other. Our English verbs formed on the passive 
 participle past of the Latin verb, as for instance ' to 
 devote,' ' to corrupt,' ' to circumcise,' have in a large 
 number of instances been preceded by verbs which 
 formed themselves more correctly from the present 
 tense active; thus 'to devove ' (Holland) preceded 
 ' to devote ; ' ' to corrump ' (Wiclif, Mai. iii. 3 1) or ' to 
 corruppe ' (Coverdale) ' to corrupt ; ' 'to circumcide ' 
 (Coverdale) ' to circumcise ; ' though these with others 
 like them, 'to compromit ' (Capgrave), 'to suspeck,' 
 '■ to correck,' ' to instruck ' (all in Coverdale), ' to in- 
 culk ' (Tyndale), have been unable to make good their 
 footing in the language, having every one given place 
 to those which we now employ. We need not look 
 far for the motive which led to the taking of the par- 
 ticiple past of the Latin verb as that on which to form 
 the English. In many cases it was difficult, in some 
 apparently impossible, to form this on the Latin pre- 
 sent. ' To devove,' ' to corrump,' ' to circumcide ' 
 might pass; but ' to suspeck,' ' to correck/ ' to instruck,' 
 did not commend themselves much, while yet nothing 
 better could be done with ' suspicio,' ' corrigo,' ' in- 
 struo ; ' not to say that other verbs out of number, as 
 ' accipio,' ' exhaurio,' ' addico,' ' macero,' ' polluo,' lent 
 themselves hardly or not at all to the forming in the 
 same way of an English verb upon them. But all 
 was easy if the participle past were recognized as the 
 starting-point ; and thus we have the verbs ' to accept/ 
 ' to exhaust,' ' to addict,' ' to macerate,' ' to pollute,' 
 with a multitude of others. It is true that these words 
 could not all at once forget that they were already 
 participles past ; and thus side by side with that other 
 
VI. Participia I Formations. 265 
 
 usage they continued for a long while to be employed 
 as such ; and instead of ' instructed,' ' dejected,' ' ac- 
 cepted,' ' exhausted,' and the rest, as now in use, we 
 find 'instruct' ('elephants iiistruct for war,' Milton), 
 ' deject ' (Shakespeare), ' accept ' (Coverdale), ' ex- 
 haust' (Bacon), 'distract' ('the fellow is distract,' 
 Shakespeare), 'attaint' (Holland), 'addict' (Frith), 
 'convict' (Habington), 'infect' ('many are infect,' 
 Shakespeare), ' pollute,' ' disjoint,' ' elevate ' (' in 
 thoughts more elevate^ Milton), ' dilute ' (John Smith), 
 ' extort,' ' extract ' (both in Spenser), ' deduct,' ' muti- 
 late' (both in Frith), ' contract' (Shakespeare), ' abro- 
 gate ' (Tyndale), ' premeditate ' (Holland), with many 
 more. Little by little, however, it passed out of the 
 linguistic consciousness of men that these were past 
 participles already ; and, this once forgotten, no 
 scruple was then made of adding to them a second 
 participial sign, and we thus have them in their present 
 shape and use ; ' instruct*?^/,' ' exhaust^-;/,' and the like. 
 Take another illustration from what for centuries has 
 been going forward in our English, of that ever-recur- 
 ring law of language, namely, that wherever two or 
 more methods of attaining the same result exist, there 
 is always a disposition to drop and dismiss all of these 
 but one ; so that the alternative, or choice of ways, 
 which once existed shall not exist any more. If only 
 a language can attain a greater simplicity, it seems to 
 grudge no self-impoverishment by which this result 
 may be brought about. We have two ways of forming 
 our comparatives and superlatives, one inherent in the 
 word itself, and derived from our old Teutonic stock, 
 thus ' bright,' ' brighter,' ' bright<fj-/ ; ' the other supple- 
 mentary to this, by aid of the auxiHaries ' more ' and 
 
266 Diminutions of English. lect. 
 
 ' most ; ' this latter making its appearance toward the 
 end of the thirteenth century, and being probably due 
 to Norman- French influence. The first, organic we 
 might call it, the indwelling power of the word to mark 
 its own degrees, must needs be esteemed the more 
 excellent way ; which yet, already disallowed in 
 almost all adjectives of more than two syllables in 
 length, is daily becoming of more restrained employ- 
 ment. Compare in this matter our present position 
 with our past. Wiclif forms without scruple such 
 comparatives as ' grievouser,' ' gloriouser,' ' patienter,' 
 ' profitabler,' such superlatives as ' grievousest,' ' fa- 
 mousest,' ' preciousest.' Two centuries later we meet 
 in Tyndale, ' excellenter,' ' miserablest ; ' in Roger 
 Ascham, ' inventivest ; ' in Shakespeare, ' ancientest,' 
 ' violentest ; ' in Gabriel Harvey, ' vendiblest,' ' sub- 
 stantialest,' ' insolentest ; ' in Fuller, '■ eloquenter ; ' in 
 Rogers, ' insufficienter,' ' goldenest ; ' in Beaumont 
 and Fletcher, ' valiantest ; ' in Bacon, ' excellentest,' 
 * honorablest ; ' in Sylvester, ' infamousest ; ' in North, 
 ' warhkest,' * unfortunatest.' Milton uses ' sensualest,' 
 ' resolutest,' ' exquisitest,' ^ virtuosest,' and in prose 
 ' vitiosest,' ' elegantest,' 'artificialest,' 'servilest,' 'sheep- 
 ishest,' ' moralest ; ' Fuller has ' fertilest ; ' Baxter 
 ' tediousest ; ' Butler ' dangerouser,' ' preciousest,' ' in- 
 tolerablest,' ' preposterousest ; ' Burnet, ' copiousest ; ' 
 Gray ' impudentest' Of these forms, and it would be 
 easy to adduce almost any number, we should hardly 
 now employ one. In participles and adverbs in ' ly " 
 these organic comparatives and superlatives hardly 
 survive at all. We do not say ' willinger,' or ' lovinger,' 
 and still less ' repiningest ' (Sidney), ' flourishingest,' 
 ' shiningest,' ' surmountingest,' all which Gabriel 
 
VI. Theflexional Gefiitive. 267 
 
 Harvey, a foremost master of the English of his time, 
 employs ; ' plenteouslyer,' ' charitablier ' (Barnes), 
 
 * amplier ' (Milton), ' easiliest ' (Fuller), ' phinliest ' 
 (Dr}^den), '■ fulliest,' ' highhest' (both in Baxter), would 
 be all inadmissible at present. 
 
 In the evident disposition of English at the present 
 moment to reduce the number of words in which this 
 more vigorous scheme of expressing degrees is al- 
 lowed, we must recognize an evidence that youthful 
 energies in the language are abating, and the stiffness 
 of advancing age making itself felt. Still it fares with 
 us here only as it fares with all languages, in which 
 at a certain stage of their existence auxiliary words, 
 leaving the main word unaltered, are preferred to 
 inflections of this last. Such preference makes itself 
 ever more strongly felt ; and, judging from analogy, I 
 cannot doubt that a day, however distant now, will 
 arrive, when the only way of forming comparatives 
 and superlatives in the English language will be by 
 prefixing ' more ' and ' most ; ' or, if the other survive, 
 it will be in poetry alone. Doubtless such a consum- 
 mation is to be regretted ; for our language is too 
 monosyllabic already ; but it is one which no regrets 
 will avert. 
 
 It will not fare otherwise, as we may be bold to 
 predict, with the flexional genitive, formed in ' s ' or 
 ' es."* This too will finally disappear, or will survive 
 only in the diction of poetry. A time will arrive, 
 when it will no longer be free to say as now, either 
 
 * the king's so?is,' or ' i/ie sons of the kin^,'' but when the 
 latter will be the only admissible form. Tokens of 
 this are already evident. The region in which the 
 alternative forms are equally good is daily narrowing. 
 
268 Diminutions of English. Lect. 
 
 We should not now any more write, ' when man's Son 
 shall come ' (Wiclif), but ' when t/ie Son of man shall 
 come ; ' nor yet ' the hypocrite's hope shall perish ' (Job 
 viii. 13, E.V.), but ^ the hope of the hypocrite ^h^iW^eu'ih. ;' 
 nor ^ the Philistines' land' (Gen. xxi. 34), but ''the 
 land of the Philistines ; ' not with Barrow, ' No man 
 can be ignorant of human life's brevity and uncertainty^ 
 but ' No man can be ignorant of the brevity aiid un- 
 certainty of human life' Already in our Authorized 
 Version the more modern form has displaced in pas- 
 sages out of number the earlier. Thus at John xviii. 
 15, it is ' the palace of the High Priest ; ' but in Cover- 
 dale, 'the High Priest's palace ;' at Heb, ii. 17, 'the 
 sins of the people,' but in earlier Versions ' the people's 
 sins ;' at i Pet. iv. 23, 'partakers of the sufferings of 
 Christ,' but in earlier Versions ' partakers of Christ's 
 passions ; ' at Zech. i. 11, ' the angel of the Lord,' but 
 in Coverdale, ' the Lord's angel.' This change at the 
 last revision found place in cases innumerable, but 
 never, so far as I have observed, the converse. The 
 consummation which I have here anticipated may be 
 centuries off, but with other of a like character will 
 assuredly arrive.^ 
 
 Of augmentatives, in which Spanish and Italian 
 
 ' Schleicher in his masterly treatise, Die deutsche Sprache, 
 i860, p. 69, notes the same as going forward in German : Das 
 Schwinden der Casus und ihren Ersatz durch Prapositionen 
 konnen wir in unsrer jetzigen deutschen Sprache recht deutlich 
 beobachten. Anstatt siissen Weines vol! u. dgl. pflegen wir im 
 gewohnhchen Leben schon zu sagen, vol! von siissem Weine ; 
 ja manche deutsche Volksmundarten haben den Genitiv fast 
 spurlos verloren, und sagen z. B. anstatt ' meines Bruders Sohn ' 
 entweder ' der Sohn von meinem Bruder,' oder ' meinem Bruder 
 sein Sohn.' 
 
VI. Diminutives disappear. 269 
 
 so much abound, we have never had many ; of de- 
 preciatives, in which ItaUan is so ignobly rich, still 
 fewer. ^ But with diminutives we were fairly furnished 
 once, though not as the Romance languages are.^ 
 These, however, are leaving us fast. We prefer to 
 express smallness by an auxiliary word ; thus, a little 
 fist, and not a ' fistock ' (Golding), a little lad, and 
 not a ' ladkin,' a little drop, and not a ' droplet ' 
 (Shakespeare), a little worm, and not a 'worm- 
 ling ' (Sylvester). It is true that of diminutives many 
 still survive, in all our four terminations of such, as 
 ' hilW^,' ' stream/^/,' ' lamb/^/;/,' ' goslifig ; ' but they 
 are few as compared with those which have perished, 
 and are every day becoming fewer. Where now is 
 'kingling' (Holland), 'friarling' (Foxe), 'twinling' 
 (= gemellus, Old Vocabulary), 'beamling' (Vaughan), 
 ' whimling ' (Beaumont and Fletcher), ' popeling ' 
 (Racket), 'tenderling' (Harrison), ' streamling,' 'god- 
 ling,' ' loveling,' ' dwarfling,' ' shepherdling ' (all in 
 Sylvester), ' chasteling ' (Becon), ' niceling ' (Stubbs), 
 ' poetling,' 'fosterling' (both in Ben Jonson), and 
 ' masterling ' ? Where novv' 'porelet' (= paupercula, 
 Isai. X. 30), ' bundelet ' (both in Wiclif ) ; ' chastilet ' 
 or little castle {Piers Ploiighma?!), 'cushionet' (Henry 
 More), ' riveret,' ' orphanet ' (both in Drayton), ' closu- 
 let,' ' lionet ' (both in Phineas Fletcher), ' herblet ' 
 (Shakespeare), ' modulet ' (Sylvester), ' thronelet ' 
 (Herrick), 'dragonet,' 'arboret' (both in Spenser), 
 'havenet,' 'pistolet'? Where, again, is 'bulkin' (Hol- 
 
 ^ Thus, besides ' sonetto ' there are names of contempt for 
 every variety of bad sonnet, 'sonettaccio,' 'sonettuccio,' 'soneto- 
 rello,' 'sonettino,' ' sonettuzzo,' ' sonettuciaccio.' 
 
 - Diez, Gi'anim, Rom. vol. ii. p. 274. 
 
270 DimimUions of English. lect. 
 
 land), ' canakin/ ' bodikin ' (both in Shakespeare), 
 
 * thumbkin/ ' ladykin,' * slamkin ' (a slovenly girl) ; or 
 where ' pillock' (Levins), 'laddock,' 'wifock ' (Golding), 
 and a hundred more ? Even of those remaining to 
 us still many are putting off, or have long since put 
 oft", their diminutive sense ; a ' pocket ' being no 
 longer a small poke, nor a ' latchet ' a small lace, nor 
 a ' trumpet ' a small trump, as formerly they were ; 
 just as our New Testament attests that many words 
 in the ' common dialect ' of Greek in which it was 
 written have done the same. The attempt to form 
 new diminutives on any of these patterns, as when 
 Carlyle of prince forms ' princekin,' of Fritz makes 
 ' Fritzkin,' is attended with little or no success. 
 
 There was a time when noun substantives in ' er ' 
 sprung out of verbs almost as naturally as participles 
 do now. This free and spontaneous generation of 
 such cannot be said to exist any more ; and of the 
 nouns in this way generated, a vast number have been 
 subsequently disallowed. Let me instance a few, in 
 proof how freely these once were formed ; thus ' con- 
 strainer,' ' feigner ' (both in Wiclif), ' appearer,' ' ba- 
 nisher,' ' bridger,' ' budger,' ' causer,' ' correctioner,' 
 ' giber,' ' needer,' ' pauser,' ' rumourer,' ' seemer,' ' suc- 
 ceeder,' ' truster,' ' wronger ' (all in Shakespeare), ' ex- 
 tirper,' from the obsolete verb ' to extirp ' (Bacon), 
 ' craver,' ' forsaker,' ' liker,' ' puler,' ' saver ' (all in 
 North), ' turmoiler' (Frith), * decider' (Beaumont and 
 Fletcher), 'escaper' (Authorized Version, margin), 
 
 * feller' (the same), ' commotioner ' (Crowley), 'posses- 
 sioner,' 'judger' (both in Coverdale), 'obeyer,' 'eluder' 
 (both in Rogers), ' praiser,' ' prizer,' ' exhauster ' (all in 
 Ben Jonson),'proscriber' (Dryden), 'fabler,' 'fabricker' 
 
VI. Stcbstmitives turned into Verbs. 271 
 
 (both in Holyday), ' representer ' (Cranmer), ' ruiner,' 
 'advancer^ (both in Fuller), 'practiser' (J. Taylor), 
 ' treatiser' (Field), 'righter' (Beaumont and Fletcher), 
 ' imager,' ' roper ' (both in Holland), ' distracter,' ' neg- 
 lecter,' ' slighter' (all in Baxter), with many more which 
 it would not be hard to bring together. 
 
 There are other ways in which our present English 
 is not what our past English was, has abdicated 
 powers which it once possessed, or has so long inter- 
 mitted to claim them that it could hardly venture on 
 doing so now. Think for example of the freedom 
 with which Shakespeare, and he is very far from being 
 alone in this, made almost any noun substantive into 
 a verb at his pleasure ; thus ' to ambition,' ' to antic,' 
 * to ballad,' ' to balm,' ' to barn,' ' to bench,' ' to bom- 
 bast,' 'to boy,' 'to bride,' ' to buckler,' ' to champion,' 
 ' to child,' ' to climate,' ' to compeer,' ' to condition,' 
 ' to coward,' ' to craven,' " to cupboard,' ' to disaster,' 
 ' to decalogue,' ' to faith,' ' to fortress/ ' to furnace,' ' to 
 ghost,' ' to god,' ' to gospel,' ' to history,' ' to host,' * to 
 hovel,' ' to hull,' ' to king,' ' to kingdom,' ' to knee,' 
 ' to lesson,' ' to life,' ' to lip,' ' to livery,' ' to malice,' ' to 
 mist,' ' to monster,' ' to mountebank,' ' to niggard,' ' to 
 nose,' ' to office,' ' to page,' ' to pang,' ' to path,' ' to 
 pattern,' * to pellet,' ' to prince,' ' to property,' ' to re- 
 past,' ' to ruffian,' ' to safeguard,' ' to scythe,' ' to se- 
 pulcre,' ' to servant,' 'to sister,' ' to spectacle,' ' to stage,' 
 ' to stranger,' ' to timber,' ' to tongue,' ' to truncheon,' 
 ' to verse,' ' to virgin,' ' to window,' ' to woman,' ' to 
 womb.' He asserts the same liberty with noun adjec- 
 tives ; thus ' to bold,' ' to coy,' ' to dear,' ' to demure,' 
 ' to dumb,' ' to false,' ' to feeble,' ' to fond,' ' to gentle,' 
 ' to happy,' ' to mad,' ' to pensive,' ' to safe,' ' to un- 
 
272 Dirnmutions of English. Lect. 
 
 happy/ ' to violent,' ' to worthy.' Other writers of the 
 Elizabethan, of the preceding, and of the next suc- 
 ceeding age, use the same liberty, though scarcely to 
 the same extent. Thus we meet ' to bane ' (Fuller), 
 'to blank' (North), 'to chest' (Authorized Version, 
 margin), 'to cinder' (Gascoigne), 'to contrary' (North), 
 ' to cranny ' (Golding), ' to dark ' (Spenser), ' to ditty ' 
 (P. Fletcher), ' to guilt' (Wiclif), ' to- ignoble' (Bacon), 
 'to imbecile' (J. Taylor), 'to mire' (Holland); 'to 
 passion' (Beaumont and Fletcher), ' to prelate' (Lati- 
 mer), 'to proverb,' ' to sycophant ' (both in Milton), 
 'to tinsel' (Herrick), 'to title,' ' to truant ' (both in 
 Milton), with others. 
 
 Once more — in the entire dropping among the 
 higher classes, and in some parts of England among 
 all classes, of ' thou,' except in poetry or in addresses 
 to the Deity, and, consequent on this, in the dropping 
 of the second singular of the verb with its strongly 
 marked flexion, as ' lovest,' ' lovedst,' we have another 
 example of a power which has been allowed to expire, 
 a distinction to disappear. In the seventeenth cen- 
 tury ' thou ' in English, as at the present ' du ' in 
 German, 'tu' in French, was the sign of familiarity, 
 whether that familiarity was of love or of contempt.^ 
 It was not unfrequently the latter. Thus at Sir 
 Walter Raleigh's trial (1603), Coke, when argument 
 and evidence failed him, insulted, and meant to insult, 
 the illustrious prisoner by applying to him the term 
 ' thou ' : — ' All that Lord Cobham did was at thy in- 
 
 ' Thus Wallis [Gramm. Ling. Anglic, 1654) : Singulari 
 numero siquis alium compellet, vel dedignantis illud esse solet, 
 vel familiariter blandientis. 
 
VI. Thott and Yoit. 273 
 
 stigation, thou viper ! for I thou thee, thou traitor ! ' 
 And when Sir Toby Belch in Twelfth Night is urging 
 Sir Andrew Aguecheek to send a sufficiently provo- 
 cative challenge to Viola, he suggests ' that he taunt 
 him with the licence of ink ; if thou thoiist him some 
 thrice, it shall not be amiss.' To keep this in mind 
 will throw much light on one peculiarity of the 
 Quakers, and give a certain dignity to it, as once 
 maintained, which at present it is very far from pos- 
 sessing. However needless and unwise their deter- 
 mination to ' thee ' and ' thou ' the whole world, this 
 was not then, as it seems now to us, and as indeed 
 through the silent changes which language has un- 
 dergone, it now is, a gratuitous departure from 
 the ordinary usage of society. Right or wrong, it 
 meant something, and had an ethical motive : being 
 indeed a testimony upon their parts, however mis- 
 placed, that they would not have high or great or rich 
 men's persons in admiration ; nor render the obser- 
 vance to some which they withheld from others. It 
 was a testimony too which cost them something. At 
 present we can very little understand the amount of 
 courage which this ' thou-ing ' and ' thee-ing ' of all 
 the world demanded on their parts, nor yet the 
 amount of indignation and offence which it stirred up 
 where men were not aware of, or would not allow for, 
 the scruples which, as the Quakers considered, obliged 
 them to this.^ It is, however, in its other aspect that 
 
 ' What the actual position of the compellation ' thou ' was 
 at that time, we learn from Fuller {Church History, Dedication 
 of Book vii.) : 'In opposition whereunto [?'.<?. to the Quaker 
 usage] we maintain that thou from superiors to inferiors is 
 proper, as a sign of command ; from equals to equals is passable, 
 
 T 
 
2 74 Diminutions of English. Lect. 
 
 we must chiefly regret the dying out of the use of 
 ' thou ' — that is, as the token of pecuhar intimacy 
 and special affection, as between husband and wife, 
 parents and children, and others who might be knit 
 together by bands of more than a common love. 
 
 Let me add before quitting this subject that this 
 plural used in the addressing of single persons was not, 
 I am sure, at the first any plural of majesty ; but had 
 its origin in a reluctance to come face to face with 
 the single personality of another. There is often in 
 men's speech a similar shrinking from looking their 
 own personality in the face, though it may show itself 
 in a somewhat different way. When Purvey in the pre- 
 face to his revision of Wiclif s Bible, where he should 
 say ' I ' in the first person, prefers to substitute, ' a 
 simple creature ' in the third ; or Wiclif himself, in the 
 same way, for ' I ' substitutes ' a poor caitifi"; ' when a 
 grand Canadian lumberer, as I lately read in a book 
 of American travel, would never designate himself 
 except as ' this horse ; ' or when the Chinese scholar 
 says 'ts'ie' or 'the thief,' meaning hereby himself,^ 
 
 as a note of familiarity ; but from inferiors to superiors, if pro- 
 ceeding from ignorance, hath a smack of clownishness ; if from 
 affectation, a tone of contempt. ' See a brief but instructive dis- 
 quisition in Skeat's edition of The Romance of William of 
 Falertie, p. xli., in proof that in early English literature the 
 distinction between 'thou' and 'ye,' as here laid down, was 
 accurately observed. There is a most interesting and exhaustive 
 treatment of the past relation between 'thou' and 'you' in 
 Guesses at Truth, 1866, pp. 120-133; see also Abbott, A 
 Shakespearean Grammar, 1870, pp. 153-159 ; and compare 
 Grimm's Worterbuch, s. v. Du. 
 
 ' We may compare the ' Hunc hominem ' of Horace, Sat. 
 I. 9. 47- 
 
VI. Plurals in' en! 275 
 
 we may trace in all these the same feeliii^g uttering 
 itself in slightly different ways. 
 
 I have more than once remarked that nothing can 
 be imagined more stealthy, more calculated to elude 
 observation, than the disappearance of an old form, 
 and the usurpation of its place by a new. Take for 
 instance the getting rid of the plural in 'n'or 'en.' 
 This, originally the Saxon plural in ' an ' of the first 
 declension, had, during the anarchical period of the 
 language, spread over a much larger group of words ; 
 but, as we all know, has long since given place, partly, 
 no doubt, under French influences, to ' s,' which, once 
 the sign in a single declension, is now the almost 
 universal sign of the plural.^ By steps so slow as to 
 be almost imperceptible, diffused as they have been 
 over vast spaces of time, this dismissal of one and 
 adoption of another has been effected. Long before 
 Chaucer, already in the Rhymed Chronicle of Robert 
 of Gloucester, written before 1300, it is evident that 
 the old English termination in ' n ' or ' en ' is giving 
 way, and that in ' s ' has virtually won the day ; but 
 we do not the less meet in this ' arwen ' (arrows), 
 ' steden,' ' sterren,' 'ameten' (emmets), ' chyrchen,' 
 ' massen,' ' been,' ' heveden ' (heads), ' applen,' ' can- 
 dlen,' ' honden,' ' soulen,' ' unclen,' ' lancen,' and 
 others ; as in The Roma7ice of King Alexander, of the 
 same date, we have ' crabben,' ' hawen,' ' slon ' (sloes), 
 ' noten ' (nuts). In Chaucer's time they are very much 
 fewer, while yet he has * doughteren,' ' sistren,' ' fone,' 
 ' ashen,' ' been,' ' shoon,' ' eyne ; ' but all these side 
 by side with our present ' daughters,' ' sisters,' ' foes,' 
 
 * See Matzner, p, 220. 
 
 T 2 
 
276 Diminutions of English. lect. 
 
 ' ashes/ '■ bees,' ' shoes/ ' eyes ; ' employing now one 
 and now the other. Thus the plural in ' n ' has nar- 
 rowed still further the region which it occupies, and is 
 not in exclusive occupation even of this j although 
 still holding a certain ground of its own. Two cen- 
 turies later ' sistern ' is still alive ; it is frequent in 
 Tyndale, Coverdale, and other of our early Reform- 
 ers ; and I am told in addresses from the pulpit in 
 America it still goes hand in hand with 'brethren;' 
 while ' peasen ' was still the plural of ' pease,' which is 
 itself a singular, the low Latin ' pisum,' ' pea ' not 
 having yet been heard of ; ' hosen ' too appears in our 
 Authorized "Version (Dan. iii. 21), and this though 
 VViclif already had ' hosis.' * Fone,' too, and ' shoon,' 
 ' eyne ' also, and ' skyen,' are all found in the diction 
 of poetry, but chiefly in that of poets who, like Spen- 
 ser, affect the archaic. At the present day, setting 
 aside four or five words which have preserved, and 
 will now probably preserve to the end, the termination 
 in ' en/ as ' oxen/ ' chicken,' ' kine ' (kyen, a cumu- 
 late plural, for ' kye,' still current in Scotland, was a 
 plural already), ' brethren,' of which the same may be 
 said, perhaps ' eyne ' is the only one of these plurals 
 which even a poet would feel at liberty to employ ; 
 while a few others, as ' housen,' ' fuzzen ' (furzes), 
 ' cheesen ' (Dorsetshire), and possibly one or two more, 
 maintain a provincial existence. 
 
 A history very nearly similar might be traced of 
 the process by which the southern termination of the 
 participle present, namely the suffix ' ing,' has super- 
 seded and displaced the northern 'and,' so that we say 
 now 'doing/ 'sitting/ 'leaping,' not 'doand,' 'sittand,' 
 ' leapand.' We have here, it is true, a further circum- 
 
VI. Participial Terminations. 277 
 
 stance helping to conceal and keep out of sight the 
 progress of the change ; namely, the only gradual 
 passing, through intermediate steps, of the one form 
 into the other, of ' and ' into ' end,' into ' ind,' and 
 finally into 'ing,' examples of all these four forms 
 sometimes occurring side by side in the same work ; 
 for example in The Romance of William of Palerne^ 
 of date about 1350. Spenser's 'glitterand' {F. Q. i. 
 7. 29) is about the last surviving specimen in English 
 of the northern form ; in Scotch it maintained its 
 ground to a far later day, in some sort maintains it 
 still,^ as every reader of Burns must be aware. 
 
 It is thus, and by steps such as these, that a change 
 is brought about. That which ultimately is to win all 
 comes in, it may be, at first as an exception ; it then 
 just obtains a footing and allowance ; it next exists 
 side by side and on equal terms with the old ; then 
 overbears it ; and finally, it may be, claims the whole 
 domain of the language as its own ; so that sometimes 
 a single isolated word, like the 'paterfamilii^j-' of 
 the Latins, is all which survives of what was once 
 the law for all the words of some certain class in a 
 language. 
 
 I will not conclude this lecture without one further 
 illustration of the same law, which, as I have sought to 
 show, is evemiore working, and causing this and that 
 to be dismissed from a language, so soon as ever the 
 speakers feel that it is not absolutely indispensable, 
 that they can attain their end, which is, to convey 
 their meaning, without it; though having dwelt on the 
 subject so fully, I shall do little more than indicate 
 
 * See Morris, English Accidence, p. i8o. 
 
278 Dimin^Uions of English. Lect. 
 
 this. I refer not here to any change in English now- 
 going forward, but to one which completed its course 
 several centuries ago ; namely, to the renouncing 
 upon its part, of any distribution of nouns into mascu- 
 line, feminine, and neuter, as in German, or even into 
 masculine and feminine, as in French ; and with this, 
 and as a necessary consequence of this, the dropping 
 of any flexional modification of the adjectives in re- 
 gimen with them. It was the boldest step in the way 
 of simplification w^hich the language has at any time 
 taken; and one which it took centuries to accomplish. 
 Natural sex, of course, remains, being inherent in all 
 language ; but grammatical ge?ide?', with the exception 
 of 'he,' 'she,' and 'it,' and perhaps one or two other 
 fragmentary instances, our language has altogether 
 foregone. An example will make clear the distinction 
 between these. Thus it is not the word 'poetess' 
 which is femi?iine, but the person indicated who is 
 female. So too ' daughter,' ' queen,' are in English not 
 femi?une nouns, but nouns designating female persons. 
 Take on the contrary ' filia ' or ' regina,' ' fille ' or 
 ' reine/ there you \\2iYQ femi7nne nouns as well 2i.^ female 
 persons. We did not inherit this simplicity from 
 others, but, like the Danes, in so far as they have 
 done the like, have made it for ourselves. Whether 
 we turn to the Latin, or, which is for us more im- 
 portant, to the old Teutonic, we find gender ; and 
 in all the daughter languages which were born of the 
 Latin, in most of those which have descended from 
 the ancient Teutonic stock, it is fully established to 
 this day. We are sometimes disposed to think of 
 German and English as languages very much abreast 
 of one another in their development; nay, if I do not 
 
VI. Sex and Gender. 279 
 
 mistake, to regard German in some way or other as 
 the older language of the two. But indeed such a 
 fact as that to which I am now calling your attention, 
 namely that English has rid itself of these distinctions 
 of gender, which burden the memory, but serve no 
 good purpose whatever, while German is hampered 
 with them still, is itself proof sufficient, though other 
 proof there is also in abundance, that English has in 
 one way or another got the start of German and kept 
 it, has found means to disembarrass itself of much 
 which still encumbers German. Of this no doubt 
 German too will rid itself in time, according to the 
 course which all languages, some faster and some 
 slower, run ; although centuries may elapse before 
 such a consummation will arrive.^ The practical 
 businesslike character of the English mind asserted 
 itself in the rejection of a distinction, which in a vast 
 proportion of words, that is, in all which are the signs 
 of manitnate objects, and as such incapable of sex, 
 rested upon a fiction, and had no ground in the real 
 nature of things. It is only by an act and effort of the 
 imagination that sex, and thus gender, can be attri- 
 buted to a table, a ship, or a tree ; ^ and there are 
 
 ^ Why English should have travelled at a more rapid rate 
 than German Koch in his excellent Grammar, p. 6, has well 
 explained. 
 
 - Compare Pott, Etymologische Forschmigen, part 2, p. 404 ; 
 Heyse, Syst. d. Sprachwissenschaft, p. 418. The entirely 
 arbitrary character of the attribution of gender to sexless things 
 is illustrated well by the way in which different genders are 
 ascribed in the same book to one and the same thing ; thus in 
 our Authorized Version, 'the tree kis fruit' (Dan. iv. 14), 'the 
 tree her fruit' (Rev. xxii. i) ; and the different Versions vary, 
 
28o Diminutions of English. lect. 
 
 aspects, this being one, in which the EngHsh is among 
 the least imaginative of all languages, even while it 
 has been employed in some of the mightiest works of 
 imagination which the world has ever seen.^ 
 
 What, it may be asked, is the meaning and expla- 
 nation of all this ? It is that at certain earlier periods 
 of a nation's life its genius is synthetic, and at later 
 becomes analytic. At earlier periods the imagination 
 is more than the understanding ; men love to con- 
 template the thing and the mode of the thing toge- 
 ther, as a single idea, bound up in one. But a time 
 arrives when the intellectual obtains the upper hand 
 of the imaginative, when the inclination of those that 
 speak a language is to analyse, to distinguish between 
 these two, and not only to distinguish, but to divide, 
 to have one word for the thing itself, and another for 
 the quality or manner of the thing ; and this, as it 
 would appear, is true, not of some languages only, but 
 of all. 
 
 thus 'the vine her roots' (Ezek. xvii. 7, E. V.), 'the vine Ids 
 roots' (ibid. Coverdale) ; 'the salt his savour' (Matt. v. 13, 
 E. v.), ' the salt >^i?r saltness ' (ibid. Tyndale). But at a much 
 earlier date it had become to a great extent a matter of subjective 
 individual feeling whether his (masculine and neuter) or her 
 (feminine) should be employed. The two recensions of Wiclif 
 frequently differ from one another ; thus at Job xxxix. 14, the 
 first, ' the ostridge /^^r eggs,' the second, ' the ostridge his eggs ; ' 
 so too at Gen. viii. 9, the first, 'the culver his foot,' the second, 
 * the culver her foot.' 
 
 ^ Compare Chasles, Etudes sicr VAllemagne, p. 25. 
 
VII. Changed A feasting of Words. 281 
 
 LECTURE VII. 
 
 CHANGES IN THE MEANING OF ENGLISH 
 WORDS. 
 
 I PROPOSE in my present lecture a little to con- 
 sider those changes which have found, or are now- 
 finding, place in the meaning of English words ; so 
 that, whether we are aware of it or not, we employ 
 them at this day in senses very different from those in 
 which our forefathers employed them of old. Vou 
 will observe that it is not obsolete words, such as have 
 quite fallen out of present use, which I propose to 
 consider ; but such, rather, as are still on the lips of 
 men, although with meanings more or less removed 
 from those which once they possessed. My subject 
 is far more practical, has far more to do with your 
 actual life, than if I were to treat of words at the 
 present day altogether out of use. These last have 
 an interest indeed ; but so long as they remain what 
 they are, and may be found only in our glossaries, it 
 is an interest of an antiquarian character. They con- 
 stitute a part of the intellectual money with which 
 our ancestors carried on the business of their lives ; 
 but now they are rather medals for the cabinets and 
 collections of the curious than current money for the 
 service of all. Their wings are clipped ; they are 
 
282 Cha?iged Meaning of Words. lect. 
 
 ' winged words ' no more ; the spark of thought or 
 feeling, kindling from mind to mind, no longer runs 
 along them, as along the electric wires of the soul. 
 And then, besides this, there is little danger that any 
 should be misled by them. They are as rocks which, 
 standing out from the sea, declare their presence, and 
 are therefore easily avoided ; while those other are as 
 hidden rocks, which are the more dangerous, that their 
 very existence is unsuspected. A reader lights for 
 the first time on some word which has now passed 
 out of use, as ' frampold,' or ' garboil,' or ' brangle j ' he 
 is at once conscious of his ignorance ; he has recourse 
 to a glossary, or, if he guesses from the context at the 
 signification, still his guess is a guess to him, and no 
 more. 
 
 But words that have changed their meaning have 
 often a deceivableness about them. A reader not once 
 doubts but that he knows their intention ; he is visited 
 with no misgiving about them. There is nothing to 
 tell him that they possess for him another force than 
 that which they possessed for the author in whose 
 writings he finds them, and which they conveyed to 
 his contemporaries. He little dreams how far the old 
 life may have gone out of them, and a new life entered 
 in. Let us suppose a student to light on a passage 
 like the following (it is from the Preface to Howell's 
 Lexicon^ 1660) : ' Though the root of the English lan- 
 guage be Dutch, yet it may be said to have been in- 
 oculated afterwards on a French stock.' He may 
 know that the Dutch is a dialect of the great Teutonic 
 family of languages, and one very nearly related to 
 our own ; but that it is the root of English will cer- 
 tainly perplex him, and he will hardly know what to 
 
VII. Former Meaning of Dutch. 283 
 
 make of the assertion; perhaps he ascribes it to igno- 
 rance in his author, who is thereby unduly lowered 
 in his esteem. But presently in the course of his 
 reading he meets with the following statement, this 
 time in Fuller's Holy War, being a history of the 
 Crusades : ' The French, Dutch, Italian, and English 
 were the four elemental nations, whereof this army [of 
 the Crusaders] was compounded.' If the student has 
 sufficient historical knowledge to know that in the 
 time of the Crusades there were no Dutch in our use 
 of the word, this statement would merely startle him ; 
 and probably before he had finished the chapter, 
 having his attention once roused, he would perceive 
 that Fuller with the writers of his time used ' Dutch ' 
 for German ; even as it was constantly so used to 
 the end of the seventeenth century, — what we call 
 now a Dutchman being then a Hollander,— and as 
 the Americans use it to this present day. But a raw 
 student might very possibly want that amount of pre- 
 vious knowledge which should cause him to receive 
 this announcement with misgiving and surprise ; and 
 might rise from a perusal of the book, persuaded that 
 the Dutch, as we call them, played an important part 
 in the Crusades, while the Germans took little or no 
 part in them at all. 
 
 And as it is here with an historic fact, so still more 
 often will it happen with the subtler moral and ethical 
 modifications which words have undergone. Out of 
 these it will continually happen that words convey 
 now much more reprobation, or convey now much 
 less, than once they did ; or, it may be, convey re- 
 probation of a different kind ; and a reader, un- 
 aware of their altered value, may seriously misread his 
 
284 Changed Meaning of Words. Lect. 
 
 author, never doubting all the while that he perfectly 
 takes in his meaning. Thus when Shakespeare makes 
 the gallant York address Joan of Arc as a ' miscreant,' 
 how coarse a piece of invective this sounds ; how 
 unlike what the chivalrous soldier would have ut- 
 tered ; or what Shakespeare, even with his unworthy 
 estimate of the holy warrior-maid, would have been 
 likely to put into his mouth. But the ' miscreant ' of 
 Shakespeare's time was not the ^ miscreant ' of ours. 
 He was simply, in agreement with the etymology of 
 the word, a misbeliever, one who did not believe 
 rightly the articles of the Catholic Faith. This I need 
 not remind you was the constant charge which the 
 English brought against the Pucelle, — namely, that she 
 was a dealer in hidden magical arts, a witch, and as 
 such had fallen from the faith. On this plea they 
 burnt her, and it is this which York intends when he 
 calls her a ' miscreant,' not what we should intend by 
 the name. 
 
 In poetry above all what beauties are often missed, 
 what forces lost, through this taking for granted that 
 the present meaning of a word accurately represents the 
 past. How often the poet is wronged in our estimation ; 
 that seeming to us now flat and pointless, which would 
 assume quite another aspect did we know how to read 
 into some word the emphasis which it once had, but 
 which noAv has departed from it. For example, Milton 
 ascribes in Comus the * tinsel-slippej-ed feet ' to Thetis, 
 the goddess of the sea. How comparatively poor an 
 epithet this 'tinsel-slippered' sounds to as many as 
 know of ' tinsel ' only in its modern acceptation of 
 mean and cheap finery, affecting a splendour which 
 it does not really possess. But learn its earlier use 
 
VII. Tinsel, hijitie^ice. 285 
 
 by learning its derivation, bring it back to the French 
 ' etincelle/ and the Latin •' scintillula ; ' see in it, as 
 Milton and the writers of his time saw, ' the sparkling,' 
 and how exquisitely beautiful a title does this become 
 applied to a sea-goddess ; how vividly does it call up 
 before our mind's eye the quick glitter and sparkle of 
 the waves under the light of sun or moon.^ It is the 
 ' silver-footed ' (apyvpuirel^a) of Homer ; but this not 
 servilely transferred, rather reproduced and made his 
 own by the English poet, dealing as one great poet 
 will do with another ; who will not disdain to borrow, 
 yet to what he borrows will add often a further grace 
 of his own. 
 
 Or, again, do we always keep in mind, or are we 
 even aware, that whenever the word ' influence ' occurs 
 in our English poetry, down to comparatively a modern 
 date, there is always more or less remote allusion to 
 invisible illapses of power, skyey, planetary effects, 
 supposed to be exercised by the heavenly luminaries 
 upon the dispositions and the lives of men ? The ten 
 occasions on which the word occurs in Shakespeare 
 do not offer a single exception. How many a passage 
 starts into new life and beauty and fulness of allusion, 
 when this is present with us ; even Milton's 
 
 ' store of ladies, whose bright eyes 
 Rain injiiience,^ 
 
 as spectators of the tournament, gain something, when 
 we regard them — and using this language, he intended 
 we should — as the luminaries of this lower sphere. 
 
 ' So in Herrick's Electra : 
 
 ' More white than are the whitest creams, 
 Or moonlight tinselling the streams.' 
 
2 86 Changed Meaning of Words. Lect. 
 
 shedding by their propitious presence strength and 
 valour into the hearts of their champions. 
 
 A word will sometimes even in its present accepta- 
 tion yield a convenient and even a correct sense ; the 
 last I have cited would do so ; we may fall into no 
 positive misapprehension about it ; and still, through 
 ignorance of its past history and of the force which it 
 once possessed, we may miss much of its significance. 
 We are not heside the meaning of our author, but we 
 are short of it. Thus in Beaumont and Fletcher's 
 King and no King^ a cowardly braggart of a soldier 
 describes the treatment he experienced, when, like 
 Parolles, he was at length found out, and stripped of 
 his hon's skin: — ' They hung me up by the heels and 
 beat me with hazel sticks, . . . that the whole king- 
 dom took notice of me for a baffled whipped fellow.' 
 Were you reading this passage, there is probably 
 nothing which would make you pause ; you would 
 attach to ' baffled ' a sense which sorts very well with 
 the context — ' hung up by the heels and beaten, all 
 his schemes of being thought much of were baffled Bud 
 defeated.' But 'baffled ' implies far more than this ; 
 it contains allusion to a custom in the days of chivalry, 
 according to which a perjured or recreant knight was 
 either in person, or more commonly in effigy, hung 
 up by the heels, his scutcheon blotted, his spear snapt 
 in two, and he himself or his effigy made the subject 
 of all kinds of indignities; such an one being said to 
 be ' baffled.' ^ Twice in Spenser recreant knights 
 
 ' Act iii. Sc. 2. 
 
 - See Holinshed, Chronicles, vol. iii. pp. 827, 1218; Ann. 
 
 I5i3» 1570- 
 
VII. Meaiimg of Religion. 287 
 
 are so treated. I can only quote a portion of the 
 shorter passage, in which this infamous punishment is 
 described : 
 
 * And after all, for greater infamy 
 He by the heels him hung upon a tree, 
 And baffled so, that all which that passed by 
 The picture of his punishment might see.' ^ 
 
 Probably when Beaumont and Fletcher wrote, men 
 were not so remote from the days of chivalry, or at any 
 rate from the literature of chivalry, but that this custom 
 was still fresh in their minds. How much more to 
 them than to us, so long as we are ignorant of the 
 same, must their words just quoted have conveyed ? 
 
 There are several places in the Authorized Ver- 
 sion of Scripture, where those unaware of the 
 changes we are speaking of, can hardly fail of being 
 to a certain extent misled as to the intention of our 
 Translators ; or, if they are better acquainted with 
 Greek than with early English, will be tempted to 
 ascribe to them, though unjustly, an inexact render- 
 ing of the original. Thus the altered meaning of 
 ' religion ' may very easily draw after it a serious mis- 
 understanding in that well-known statement of St. 
 James, ' Pure religion and undefiled before God and 
 the Father is this, to visit the fatherless and widows 
 in their affliction.' ' There !' exclaims one who wishes 
 to set up St. James against St. Paul, that so he may 
 escape the necessity of obeying either, ' listen to what 
 St. James says ; there is nothing mystical in what he 
 requires ; instead of harping on faith as a condition 
 necessary to salvation, he makes all religion to consist 
 
 1 Fairy Queen ^ vi. 7, 27 ; cf. v. 3, 37. 
 
288 Changed Meaning of Woi^ds. l-ect. 
 
 in deeds of active well-doing and kindness one to 
 another.' But let us pause for a moment. Did ' re- 
 ligion,' when our Version was made, mean godliness ? 
 did it mean the siun total of our duties towards God ? 
 for, of course, no one would deny that deeds of charity 
 are a necessary part of our Christian duty, an evidence 
 of the faith which is in us. There is abundant evi- 
 dence to show that ' religion ' did not mean this ; that, 
 like the Greek OprtaKela, for which it here stands, like 
 the Latin -religio,' it meant the outward forms and 
 embodiments in which the inward principle of piety 
 clothed itself, the external service of God : and St. 
 James is urging upon those to whom he is wTiting 
 something of this kind : ' Instead of the ceremonial 
 services of the Jews, which consisted in divers wash- 
 ings and in other elements of this world, let our ser- 
 vice, our 6pi]<7Kda, take a nobler shape, let it consist 
 in deeds of pity and of love ' — and it was this which 
 our Translators intended, when they used ' religion ' 
 here and 'religious' in the verse preceding. How 
 little ' religion ' was formerly in meaning co-extensive 
 with godliness, how predominantly it was used for the 
 outward service of God, is plain from many passages 
 in our H'o??iilies, and from other contemporary litera- 
 ture. 
 
 You remember the words in the Sermon on the 
 Mount, ' Take no thought for your life, what ye shall 
 eat, or what ye shall drink' (Matt. vi. 25). They 
 have been often found fault with ; and, to quote one of 
 the fault-finders, ' most English critics have lamented 
 the inadvertence of our Authorized Version, which in 
 bidding us take no thought for the necessaries of life 
 prescribed to us what is impracticable in itself, and 
 
VII. Thmight, Kindly. 289 
 
 would be a breach of Christian duty even if possible.' 
 But there is no 'inadvertence' here. When our 
 Translation was made, 'Take no thought' was a per- 
 fectly correct rendering of the words of the original. 
 'Thought' was then constantly used for painful soH- 
 citude and care. Thus Bacon writes, ' Harris an alder- 
 man was put in trouble and died of thought and anxiety 
 before his business came to an end ; ' and in one of 
 ifhe Somers Tracts (its date is of the reign of Elizabeth) 
 these words occur : ' In five hundred years only two 
 queens have died in childbirth. Queen Catherine 
 Parr died rather of thought.^ A still better example 
 occurs in Shakespeare's y^/'/Zz/i" Ccesar — ' Take thought^ 
 and die for Caesar' — where ' to take thought' is to take 
 a matter so seriously to heart that death ensues. 
 
 Again, there are words in our Prayerbook which 
 are frequently misunderstood. Thus we ask of God 
 that it would please Him ' to give and preserve to our 
 use the kindly fruits of the earth.' What is commonly 
 understood by these ^kindly fruits of the earth'? The 
 fruits, if I mistake not, in which the kindness of God 
 or of nature towards us finds its expression. This is 
 no unworthy meaning, but it is not the right one. The 
 ^kindly fruits' are the ^ natural (xuits,'' those which the 
 earth according to its kind should naturally bring forth, 
 which it is appointed to produce. To show you how 
 little 'kindly' meant once benignant, as it means now, 
 I will instance an employment of it from Sir Thomas 
 More's Life of Richard the Third. He tells us that 
 Richard calculated by murdering his two nephews in 
 the Tower to make himself accounted ' a kindly king ' 
 — not certainly a 'kindly' one in our present usage 
 of the word; but, having put them out of the way, 
 
 u 
 
290 Changed Meaning of Words. Lect. 
 
 that he should then be lineal heir of the Crown, and 
 should thus be reckoned as king by kind or natural 
 descent ; and such was of old the constant use of the 
 word. Thus Bishop Andrewes, preaching on the Con- 
 spiracy of the Gowries, asks concerning the conspira- 
 tors, — if indeed conspirators they were, and not rather 
 foully murdered men, — 'Where are they? Gone to 
 their own place, to Judas their brother; as is most 
 kindly^ the sons to the father of wickedness, there to 
 be plagued with him for ever.' 
 
 A phrase in one of our occasional Services, ' with 
 my body I thee zuofs/iip,' has perplexed and some- 
 times offended those who were unacquainted with 
 the early uses of the word, and thus with the inten- 
 tion of the actual framers of that Service. Clearly 
 in our modern sense of ' worship,' this language would 
 be inadmissible. But 'worship' or 'worthship' meant 
 'honour' in our early English, and 'to worship' to 
 honour, this meaning of ' worship ' still very harmlessly 
 surviving in 'worshipful,' and in the title of 'your 
 worship,' addressed to the magistrate on the bench. 
 So little was it restrained of old to the honour which 
 man is bound to pay to God, that it is employed by 
 Wiclif to express the honour which God will render 
 to his faithful servants and friends. Thus our Lord's 
 declaration, ' If any man serve Me, him will- my 
 Father honour^' in Wiclif 's translation reads thus, ' If 
 any man serve Me, my Father shall worship him.' 
 
 Take another example of a misapprehension which 
 may not be a very serious one ; but which it is just 
 as well to avoid. Fuller, our Church historian, prais- 
 ing some famous divine lately dead, exclaims, ' Oh 
 the painful ness of his preaching ! ' How easily we 
 
VII. Paiiif Illness, Ascertain. 291 
 
 might take this for an exclamation wrung out at the 
 recollection of the tediousness which he inflicted on 
 his hearers. Nothing of the kind ; the words are 
 a record not of the pain which he caused to others, 
 but of the pains which he bestowed himself : nor can 
 I doubt, if we had more ' painful ' preachers in the 
 old sense of the word, that is, who took pains them- 
 selves, we should have fewer 'painful' ones in the 
 modern sense, who cause pain to their hearers. So 
 too Bishop Grosthead is recorded as ' the painful 
 writer of two hundred books' — not meaning hereby 
 that these books were ' painful' in the reading, but that 
 he was laborious and ' painful ' in their composing. 
 
 Here is another easy misapprehension. Swift wrote 
 a pamphlet, or Letter to the Lord Treasurer, with this 
 title, 'A proposal for correcting, improving, and ascej'- 
 taining the English Tongue.' Who that brought a 
 knowledge of present English, and no more, to this 
 passage, would doubt that ' ascei'tainifig the English 
 Tongue' meant arriving at a certain knowledge of 
 what it was ? Swift, however, means something quite 
 different from this. ' To ascertaiji the English tongue' 
 was not with him to arrive at a subjective certainty in 
 our own minds of what that tongue is, but to give an 
 objective certainty to that tongue itself, so that hence- 
 forth it should not be subject to change any more. 
 For even Swift himself, with all his masculine sense, 
 entertained a dream of this kind, fancied that the 
 growth of a language might be arrested, as is more 
 fully declared in the work itself. ^ 
 
 ^ Works (Sir W. Scott's edition), vol. ix. p. 139. 
 u 2 
 
292 Changed Meanmg of Words. lect. 
 
 In other places imacquaintance with the changes 
 in a word's usage may leave you sorely perplexed and 
 puzzled as to your author's meaning. It is evident 
 that he has a meaning, but what it is you are unable 
 to divine, even though all the words he employs are 
 familiarly employed to the present day. Thus ' courtly 
 Waller/ congratulating Charles the Second on his 
 return from exile, and describing how men, once his 
 bitterest enemies, were now the most earnest to offer 
 themselves to his service, writes thus : 
 
 ' Offenders now, the chiefest, do begin 
 To strive for grace, and expiate their sin : 
 All winds blow fair that did the world embroil, 
 Your vipers treacle yield, and scorpions oil.' 
 
 'Readers not a few before now will have been per- 
 plexed at the poet's statement that '' vipers treacle yield^ 
 — who yet have been too indolent, or who have wanted 
 the helps at hand enabling them to search out what 
 his meaning was. There is in fact allusion here to a 
 curious piece of legendary lore. ' Treacle,' or ' triacle,' 
 as Chaucer ^vrote it, was originally a Greek word, and 
 wrapped up in itself the once popular belief (an anti- 
 cipation, by the way, of homoeopathy), that a confec- 
 tion of the viper's flesh was the most potent antidote 
 against the viper's bite.' Waller serves himself of this 
 old legend, familiar enough in his time, for Milton 
 
 ' &r)piaKr}, from Br^pioi/, a designation given to the viper 
 (Acts xxviii. 4). 'Theriac' is only the more rigid form of the 
 same word, the scholarly, as distinguished from the popular, 
 adoption of it. Augustine (C(3«. duas Epp. Pelag. iii. 7) : Sicnt 
 fieri consuevit antidotum etiam de serpentibus contra venena 
 serpentum. See the Promptoriiirn Parviilonim, s, v., Way's 
 edition. 
 
VII. Treacle, Blackguard. 293 
 
 speaks of ' the sovran treacle of sound doctrine/ ^ while 
 ' Venice treacle,' or ' viper-wine,' was a common name 
 for a supposed antidote. against all poisons; and he 
 would say that regicides themselves began to be loyal, 
 vipers not now yielding hurt any more, but rather a 
 healing medicine for the old hurts which they them- 
 selves had inflicted. ' Treacle,' it may be observed, 
 designating first this antidote, came next to designate 
 any antidote, then any medicinal confection or sweet 
 syrup, and lastly that particular syrup, namely, the 
 sweet syrup of molasses, to which alone we restrict 
 it now. 
 
 I will draw on Fuller for one more illustration of 
 the matter in hand. In his Holy War, having enu- 
 merated the rabble rout of fugitive debtors, runaway 
 slaves, thieves, adulterers, murderers, of men laden 
 for one reason or another with heaviest censures of 
 the Church, who swelled the ranks, and helped to 
 make up the army, of the Crusaders, he exclaims, ' A 
 lamentable case, that the devil's black guard should 
 be God's soldiers ! ' What does he mean, we may 
 ask, by 'the devil's black guard' "^ The phrase does 
 not stand here alone ; it is, on the contrary, of fre- 
 quent recurrence in the early dramatists and others 
 down to the time of Dryden ; in whose Don Sebastian^ 
 ' Enter the captain of the rabble, with the Black 
 
 ' And Chaucer, more solemnly still : 
 
 ' Christ, which that is to every harm triade. ' 
 
 The antidotal character of treacle comes out yet more in these 
 lines of Lydgate : 
 
 ' There is no venom so parlious in sharpnes, 
 As whan it hath oi treacle a likenes.' 
 
294 Changed Meaniiig of Words. Lect. 
 
 gtia7'd^ is a stage direction. What is this 'black 
 guard ' ? Has it any connection with a word of our 
 homeliest vernacular ! None w^hich is very apparent, 
 and yet such as may very clearly be traced. In old 
 times the palaces of our kings and seats of our nobles 
 were not so well and completely furnished as at the 
 present day : and thus it was customary, when a royal 
 progress was made, or when the great nobility ex- 
 changed one residence for another, that at such a 
 removal all kitchen utensils, pots and pans, and even 
 coals, should be also carried with them where they 
 went. The scullions and other meaner retainers, who 
 rode amongst these and were smutted by them, were 
 contemptuously styled ' the black guard : ^ ^ then any 
 troop or company of ragamuffins ; and lastly, when 
 the word's history was obscured and men forgot that 
 it properly belonged to a company, to a rabble rout, 
 and not to a single person, one would compliment 
 another, not as belonging to, but as himself being, ' a 
 black guard.' 
 
 These examples are sufficient to prove that this 
 study of the changed meaning of words to which I 
 invite you, is not a useless and unprofitable study, nor 
 yet one altogether without entertainment. It is a 
 study so far from unprofitable, that no one who desires 
 to read with accuracy, and thus with advantage and 
 pleasure, our earlier classics, who would not often fall 
 short of, and often go astray from, their meaning, can 
 
 ' 'A slave, that within these twenty years rode with the 
 black guard in the Duke's carriage, 'mongst spits and dripping 
 pans' (Webster, White Devil, Act i. Sc. i). 
 
VII. Causes of Change in Meaning. 295 
 
 omit it altogether. This being so, we could not more 
 usefully employ what remains of this present lecture 
 than in seeking to indicate those changes to which 
 words are most frequently submitted ; and to trace as 
 far as we can the forces, moral and material, which 
 bring these changes about, with the good or the evil 
 out of which they have sprung, and to which they bear 
 witness. For indeed they are seldom or never changes 
 at random, are obedient to certain laws, are capable 
 of being distributed into certain classes, being the out- 
 ward transcripts and attestations of mental and moral 
 processes which have gone forward inwardly in those 
 who bring them about. Much, it is true, will escape 
 any classification of ours ; will appear to us as the re- 
 sult of mere caprice, and not to be accounted for by 
 any principle to which we can appeal. But all this 
 admitted freely, in far the greater number of instances 
 the change will be reducible to some law or other, 
 and will be explicable by it. With these we will 
 occupy ourselves now.^ 
 
 And first, the extent of meaning which a word 
 covers is oftentimes gradually narrowed. It was once 
 as a generic name, embracing many as yet unnamed 
 .species within itself, which all went by its common 
 designation. By and by it is found convenient that 
 each of these should have its own more special sign 
 allotted to it.^ It fares here very much as it fares in 
 
 ' See upon this subject Sayce, Principles of Comparative 
 Philology, 1875, P- 56 5 ^^"^j going more fully into it, Pott, Etym. 
 Forsckung., vol. v. p. xxx, sqq. 
 
 - Genin [Lexique de la Langiie Moliere, p. 367) says well : 
 En augmentant le nombre des mots, il a fallu restreindre leur 
 signification, et faire aux nouveaux un apanage aux depens des 
 anciens. 
 
296 Changed Mea7iing of Words. Lect. 
 
 some newly enclosed country, Avhere a single house- 
 hold will at first loosely occupy a whole district; 
 which same district is m the course of time par- 
 celled out among twenty proprietors, and under more 
 accurate culture employs and sustains them all. Thus 
 all food was once called 'meat' ; it is so in our Bible, 
 and ' horse-meat' for fodder is still no unusual phrase; 
 yet ' meat ' is now a name given only to flesh. Any 
 little book or writing was a ' libel ' once ; now only 
 such an one as is scurrilous and injurious. Every 
 leader was a ' duke ' (dux) ; thus ' duke Hannibal ^ 
 (Sir Thomas Elyot), ' duke Brennus ' (Holland), ' duke 
 Tlieseus ' (Shakespeare), ' duke Amalek,' with other 
 'dukes' in Scripture (Gen. xxxvi.). Every journey, 
 by land as much as by sea, was a 'voyage.^ 'Fairy' 
 was not a name restricted, as now, to the Gothic my- 
 thology; thus ' the/^Z/T Egeria' (Sir J. Harrington). 
 A ' corpse' might quite as well be a body living as one 
 dead. In each of these cases, the same contraction 
 of meaning, the separating off and assigning to other 
 words of large portions of this meaning, has found 
 place. 'To starve' (most often spelt 'sterve' up to 
 the middle of the seventeenth century), meant once, 
 as does ' sterben ' in German, to die any manner of 
 death ; thus Chaucer says, Christ ' stervcd upon the 
 cross for our redemption ; ' it now is restricted to the 
 dying by cold or by hunger. Words not a few were 
 once applied to both sexes alike, which are now re- 
 stricted to the female. It is so even with 'girl,' which 
 was once, as in Pie7's Ploughman and Chaucer, a young 
 person of either sex ; ^ while other words, such as 
 
 ' And no less so in French with 'dame,' by which form not 
 
VII. Words restrict their Meanirig. 297 
 
 'hoyden' (Milton, prose), 'shrew,' Miarlot,' Meman' 
 (all in Chaucer), 'coquet' (Phillips, New World of 
 Words), 'witch' (Wiclif) ; 'wench,' 'slut' (Gower), 
 'termagant' (Bale), 'scold,' 'jade,' 'hag' (Golding), 
 must, in their present exclusive appropriation to the 
 female sex, be regarded as evidences of men's rude- 
 ness, and not of women's deserts. 
 
 The necessities of an advancing civilization demand 
 more precision and accuracy than was necessary at the 
 first, in the use of words having to do with weight, 
 measure, number, size. Almost all such words as 
 'acre,' 'furlong,' 'yard,' 'gallon,' 'peck,' were once of 
 a vague and unsettled use, and only at a later day, and 
 in obedience to the necessities of commerce and social 
 life, exact measures and designations. Thus every field 
 was once an ' acre' ; and this remains so still with the 
 German ' acker,' and with us when we give the name 
 of 'God's acre' to the consecrated ground in which 
 we lay our dead ; it was not till about the reign of 
 Edward the First that 'acre' was commonly restricted 
 to a determined measure and portion of land. Here 
 and there even now a glebeland will be called ' the 
 acre ' ; and this, though it should contain not one but 
 many of our measured acres. A ' furlong ' was a ' fur- 
 rowlong,' or length of a furrow.^ Any pole was a 
 ' yard,' and this vaguer use survives in ' sailyt^r^,' ' hal- 
 yard,' and in other sea-terms. Every jDitcher was a 
 
 ' domina ' only, but ' dominus,' was represented. Thus in early 
 French poetry, ' Dame Dieu ' for ' Dominus Deus ' continually 
 occurs. 
 
 1 ' K furlong, qazi%\ furro-ivlo)ig, being so much as a team in 
 England plougheth going forward, before they return back again ' 
 (Fuller, Pisgah Sight of Palestine, p. 42). 
 
298 Changed Meaning of Words. leci. 
 
 ^galon' (Mark xiv. 13, Wiclif), while a 'peck' was 
 no more than a 'poke' or bag. In other languages 
 the same takes place. The Greek 'drachm' was at 
 nrst a handful. ' The word which stood at a later day 
 for ten thousand (/.ivpioi), implied in Homer's time 
 any great multitude ; and, differently accented, retained 
 this vaguer meaning in the later periods of the lan- 
 guage. ' Arsenic,' ' bark,' ' opium,' ' vervain,' ' vitriol,' 
 are all ia like manner words which have narrowed 
 their sense, and mean now much less than once they 
 meant, or than, according to their etymology, they 
 would seem to mean.^ 
 
 Over against this is a counter-process by which 
 words of narrower intention gradually enlarge their 
 domain of meaning, becoming capable of much wider 
 application than any which once they admitted. In- 
 stances in this kind are fewer than in the last. The 
 main stream and course of human thoughts and 
 human discourse tends the other way, to discerning, 
 distinguishing, dividing; and then to the permanent 
 fixing of the distinctions gained, by the aid of desig- 
 nations which shall keep apart for ever in word that 
 which has been once severed and sundered in thought. 
 Nor is it hard to perceive why this process should be 
 the more frequent. Men are first struck with the 
 likeness between those things which are presented to 
 them; on the strength of which likeness they mentally 
 
 ' ApaxiJ-v ^ ' manipulus,' from hpd(Tcrojxai, to grasp as much as 
 one can hold in the fingers. 
 
 - See John Mill, Logic, b. iv. ch. v. § 4. Any living crea- 
 ture which wanted discourse of reason might once be termed 
 ikXo'yov ; in modern Greek the word is restricted to and is the 
 name of the horse. 
 
VII. Words enlarge their Meaning. 299 
 
 bracket them under a common term. Further ac- 
 quaintance reveals their points of unlikeness, the real 
 dissimilarities which lurk under superficial resem- 
 blances, the need therefore of a different notation for 
 objects which are essentially different. It is compa- 
 ratively much rarer to discover real likeness under 
 what at first appeared as unlikeness ; and usually 
 when a word moves forward, and from a special ac- 
 quires a general significance, it is not in obedience to 
 any such discovery of the true inner likeness of things, 
 — the steps of successful generahzations being marked 
 and secured in other ways — but this widening of a 
 word's meaning is too often a result of quite other 
 causes. Men forget a word's history and etymology ; 
 its distinctive features are obliterated for them, with 
 all that attached it to some thought or fact which by 
 right was its own. All words in some sort are faded 
 metaphors, but this is one in which the fading has 
 become absolute and complete. Appropriated and 
 restricted once to some striking speciality which it 
 vividly set out, it can now be used in a wider, vaguer, 
 more indefinite way ; can be employed twenty times 
 for once when it would have been possible formerly 
 to employ it. Yet this is not gain, but pure loss. It 
 has lost its place in the disciplined ai-my of words, 
 and become one of a loose and disorderly mob} 
 
 Let me instance ' preposterous.' It is now no 
 
 ' The exact opposite of this will sometimes take place. 
 Beaucoup de mots, qui du temps de Corneille se pliaient a 
 plusieurs significations, se sont, de la facon la plus bizarre, im- 
 mobilises et petrifies, si Ton ose le dire, dans des sens etroits et 
 restreints [Lexiqiie de la Langnc de Corneille, p. xxii.). 
 
300 Cha7Lged Meaning of Words. lect. 
 
 longer of any practical service at all in the language, 
 being merely an ungraceful and slipshod synonym for 
 absurd. But restore and confine it to its proper use ; 
 let it designate that one peculiar branch of absurdity 
 which it designated once, namely the reversing of the 
 true order of things, the putting of the last first, and, 
 by consequence, of the first last, and what excellent 
 service it would yield. Thus it is * preposterous ' to 
 put the cart before the horse, to expect the wages be- 
 fore the work is done, to hang a man first and try 
 him afterwards ; and in this stricter sense ' prepos- 
 terous ' was always used by our elder writers. 
 
 In like manner ' to prevaricate ' was never em- 
 ployed by good writers of the seventeenth century 
 without nearer or more remote allusion to the uses of 
 the word in the Roman law-courts, where a ' prsevari- 
 cator ' (properly a straddler with distorted legs) did 
 not mean generally and loosely, as now with us, one 
 who shuffles, quibbles, and evades; but one who played 
 false in a particular manner ; who, undertaking, or 
 being by his ofiice bound, to prosecute a charge, was 
 in secret collusion with the opposite party ; and, be- 
 traying the cause which he aftected to support, so 
 managed the accusation as to obtain not the condem- 
 nation, but the acquittal, of the accused; a 'feint 
 pleader,' as in our old law language he would have 
 been teniied. How much force would the keeping 
 of this in mind add to many passages in our elder 
 divines. 
 
 Or take ' equivocal,' ' equivocate,' ' equivocation.' 
 These terms, which belonged at first to logic, have 
 slipped into common use ; but in so doing have lost 
 all the precision of their first employment. ' Equivo- 
 
VII. Eqidvocatio7i, Idea. 301 
 
 cation ' is now almost any such ambiguous dealing in 
 words with the intention of deceiving, as falls short of 
 an actual lie ; but according to etymology and in pri- 
 mary use ' equivocation,' this fruitful mother of so 
 much error, is the calling by the same name, of things 
 essentially diverse, hiding intentionally or otherwise a 
 real difference under a verbal resemblance.^ Nor let 
 it be urged in defence of the present looser use, that 
 the word could not otherwise have served the needs 
 of our ordinary conversation. So far from this, had it 
 retained its proper use, how serviceable an implement 
 of thought might it have proved for the detecting our 
 own fallacies, or the fallacies of others. All that it 
 can now be no longer. 
 
 What now is ' idea ' for us ? How infinite the fall 
 of this word from the time when Milton sang of the 
 Creator contemplating his newly-created v/orld, 
 
 ' how it showed, 
 Answering his great idea,^ 
 
 to the present use, when this person ' has an idea that 
 the train has started,' and the other ' had no idea that 
 the dinner would be so bad.' Matters have not mended 
 since the times of Dr. Johnson ; who, as Boswell tells 
 us, ' was particularly indignant against the almost uni- 
 versal use of the word idea in the sense of notion or 
 opinion^ when it is clear that idea can only signify 
 something of which an image can be formed in the 
 mind.' There is perhaps no word in the whole com- 
 pass of the language so ill treated, so rarely employed 
 
 ' Thus Barrow : ' Which [courage and constancy] he that 
 wanteth is no other than equivocally a gentleman, as an image 
 or a carcass is a man.' 
 
302 Changed Meaning of Words, lect. 
 
 with any tolerable correctness ; in none is the distance 
 so immense between what properly it means, and the 
 slovenly uses which popularly it is made to serve. 
 
 This tendency in words to lose the sharp, rigidly 
 defined outline of meaning which they once possessed, 
 to become of wide, vague, loose application instead of 
 fixed, definite, and precise, to mean almost anything, 
 and so really to mean nothing, is one of the most 
 fatally effectual tendencies evermore at w^ork for the 
 final ruin of a language, and, I do not fear to add, for 
 the demoralization of those that speak it. It is one 
 against which we shall all do well to watch ; for there 
 is none of us who cannot do something in keeping 
 words close to their own proper meaning, and in 
 resisting their encroachment on the domain of others. 
 
 The causes which bring this mischief about are not 
 hard to trace. We all know that when a piece of our 
 silver money has for a long time been fulfilling its 
 part as ' pale and common drudge 'tween man and 
 man,' whatever it had at first of sharper outline and 
 livelier impress is in the end nearly or altogether worn 
 away. So it is with words, above all with words of 
 theology and science. These, getting into general 
 use, and passing often from mouth to mouth, lose the 
 ' image and superscription " which they had, before 
 they descended from the school to the market-place, 
 from the pulpit to the street Being now caught up 
 by those who understand imperfectly and thus incor- 
 rectly their true value, who will not be at the pains of 
 learning what that is, or who are incapable of so 
 doing, they are obHged to accommodate themselves 
 to the lower sphere in which they circulate, by laying 
 aside much of the precision and accuracy and fulness 
 
VII. Bombast, Garble. 30 
 
 j^o 
 
 which once they had ; they become feebler, shallower, 
 more indistinct ; till in the end, as true or adequate 
 exponents of thought and feeling, they cease to be of 
 any service at all. 
 
 Sometimes a word does not merely narrow or ex- 
 tend its meaning, but altogether changes it ; and this 
 it does in more ways than one. Thus a secondary 
 figurative sense will quite put out of use and ex- 
 tinguish the literal, until in the entire predominance 
 of that it is altogether forgotten that it ever possessed 
 any other. In ' bombast ^ this forgetfulness is nearly 
 complete. What ' bombast ' now means is familiar to 
 us all, namely inflated words, ' full of sound and fury,' 
 but ' signifying nothing.' This, at present the sole 
 meaning, was once only the secondary and superin- 
 duced ; ' bombast ' being properly the cotton plant, 
 and then the cotton wadding with which garments were 
 stuffed out and lined. You remember perhaps how 
 Prince Hal addresses Falstaff, ' How now, my sweet 
 creature of bombast ; ' using the word in its literal 
 sense ; and another early poet has this line : 
 
 'Thy body's bolstered out with bombast and with bags.' 
 
 ' Bombast' was then transferred in a vigorous image 
 to the big words without substance or solidity where- 
 with the discourses of some were stuffed out, and 
 knows at present no other meaning but this. ' To 
 garble ' was once ' to cleanse from dross and dirt, as 
 grocers do their spices, to pick or cull out.' ' It is 
 never used now in this its primary sense, and has 
 indeed undergone this further change, that while once 
 
 ^ Phillips, New World of Words, 1706. 
 
304 Changed Mea7iing of Words. Lect. 
 
 ' to garble ' was to sift for the purpose of selecting the 
 best, it is now to sift with a view of picking out the 
 worst. ^ ' Polite ' is another word which in the figurative 
 sense has quite extinguished the literal. We still speak 
 of ' polished ' surfaces ; but not any more, with Cud- 
 worth, of ^polite bodies, as looking-glasses.' Neither 
 do we now ' exonerate' a ship (Burton) ; nor ' stigma- 
 tize,' otherwise than figuratively, a malefactor (the 
 same) ; nor ' corroborate ' our health (Sir Thomas 
 Elyot) any more. 
 
 Again, a word will travel on by slow and regularly 
 progressive courses of change, itself a faithful index 
 of changes going on in society and in the minds of 
 men, till at length everything is changed about it. 
 The process of this it is often very curious to observe; 
 being one which it is possible to watch as step by step 
 it advances to the final consummation. There may 
 be said to be three leading phases which the word 
 successively presents, three stages in its histor}% At 
 first it grows naturally out of its own root, is filled with 
 its own natural meaning. Presently it allows another 
 meaning, very often one foreign to its etymology, and 
 superinduced on the earlier, to share possession with 
 this, on the ground that where one exists, the other 
 com.monly exists with it. At the third step, the newly 
 introduced meaning, not satisfied with a moiety, with 
 dividing the possession of the word, has thrust out 
 the original and rightful possessor altogether, and 
 reigns henceforward alone. The three successive 
 
 * ' But his [Gideon's] army must be garbled, as too great for 
 God to give victoiy thereby ; all the fearful return home by 
 proclamation' (Fuller, Pisgah Sight of Palestine, b. ii. c. 8). 
 
VII. Progressive Steps of Change. 305 
 
 stages may be represented by a^ ab, b ; in which series 
 b, which was wanting altogether at the first stage, and 
 was only admitted as secondary at the second, does at 
 the third become primary, and indeed remains in sole 
 and exclusive possession. 
 
 We must not suppose that in actual fact the tran- 
 sitions fi"om one signification to another are so strongly 
 and distinctly marked, as I have found it convenient 
 to mark them here. Indeed it is hard to imagine any- 
 thing more gradual, more subtle and imperceptible, 
 than the process of change. The manner in which 
 the new meaning first insinuates itself into the old, 
 and then drives out the old, can only be compared to 
 the process of petrifaction, as rightly understood — the 
 water not gradually turning what has fallen into it to 
 stone, as we generally assume the operation to be ; 
 but successively displacing each several particle of 
 that which is brought withhi its power, and depositing 
 a stony particle in its stead, till, in the end, while all 
 appears to continue the same, all has in fact been 
 thoroughly changed. It is precisely thus, by such 
 slow, gradual, and subtle advances that the new mean- 
 ing filters through and pervades the word, little by 
 little displacing entirely that which it formerly pos- 
 sessed. 
 
 No word would illustrate this process better than 
 that old example, familiar probably to us all, of ' vil- 
 lain.' The ' villain ' is, first, the serf or peasant, ' vil- 
 lanus,' because attached to the ' villa ' or farm. He is 
 secondly, the peasant who, it is further taken for 
 grantel, will be churlish, selfish, dishonest, and gene- 
 rally of evil moral conditions, these having come 
 to be assumed as always belonging to him, and to be 
 
 X 
 
o 
 
 06 Cka?iged Meariing of Words. Lect. 
 
 permanently associated with his name, by those 
 higher classes of society, the /caXot icayadoi, who in the 
 main commanded the springs of language. At the 
 third step, nothing of the meaning which the etymo- 
 logy suggests, nothing of 'villa,' survives any longer; 
 the peasant is wholly dismissed, and the evil moral 
 conditions of him who is called by this name alone 
 remain ; ^ so that the name would now in this its final 
 stage be applied as freely to peer, if -he deserved it, as 
 to peasant. ' Boor' has had exactly the same history; 
 being first the cultivator of the soil ; then secondly, 
 the cultivator of the soil who, it is assumed, will be 
 coarse, rude, and unmannerly ; and then thirdly, any 
 one who is coarse, rude, and unmannerly. So too 
 * pagan ; ' which is first villager, then heathen villager, 
 and lastly heathen. 2 You may trace the same pro- 
 gress in ' churl,' ' clown,' ' antic,' and in numerous 
 other words. The intrusive meaning might be likened 
 in all these cases to the egg which the cuckoo lays 
 in the sparrow's nest ; the young cuckoo first sharing 
 the nest with its rightful occupants, but not resting till 
 it has dislodged and ousted them altogether. 
 
 I will illustrate by the aid of one word more this 
 part of my subject. I called your attention in my 
 last lecture to the true character of several words and 
 forms in use among our country people, and claimed 
 
 ^ Epigrams and proverbs like the following, and they are 
 innumerable in the Middle Ages, sufficiently explain the succes- 
 sive phases of meaning through which 'villain' has passed : 
 
 Quando mulcetur villanus, pejor habetur : 
 Ungentem pungit, pungentem rusticus ungit. 
 
 ^ See my Study of Words, 15th edit., p. 125. 
 
VII. Proper Meaning of Gossip. 307 
 
 for them to be in many instances genuine English, 
 although English now more or less antiquated and 
 overlived. ' Gossip ' is a word in point. This name 
 is given by our Hampshire peasantry to the sponsors 
 in baptism, the godfathers and godmothers. We have 
 here a perfectly correct employment of 'gossip,' in 
 fact its proper and original one, one involving more- 
 over a very curious record of past beliefs. ' Gossip ' 
 or '■ gossib,' as Chaucer spelt it, is a compound word, 
 made up of the name of ' God,' and of an old English 
 word, 'sib,' still alive in Scotland, as all readers of 
 Walter Scott will remember, and in Northern parts of 
 England, and which means, akin ; they being ' sib ^ 
 who are related to one another. But why, you may 
 ask, was the name given to sponsors ? Out of this 
 reason ; — in the Middle Ages it was the prevailing 
 belief (and the Romish Church still affirms it), that 
 those who stood as sponsors to the same child, 
 besides contracting spiritual obligations on behalf of 
 that child, also contracted spiritual affinity one with 
 another ; they became sib, or akin, in God^ and thus 
 ' gossips ; ' hence ' gossipred,' an old word, exactly 
 analogous to ' kindred.' Out of this faith the Roman 
 Catholic Church will not allow (unless by dispensa- 
 tion) those who have stood as sponsors to the same 
 child, afterwards to contract marriage with one another, 
 affirming them too nearly related for this to be lawful. 
 Take 'gossip,' however, in its ordinary present use, 
 as one addicted to idle tittle-tattle, and it seems to 
 bear no relation whatever to its etymology and first 
 meaning. The same three steps, however, which we 
 have traced before will bring us to its present use. 
 ' Gossips ' are, first, the sponsors, brought by the act of 
 
 X 2 
 
3o8 Changed Meaning of Words. lect. 
 
 a common sponsorship into affinity and near familiarity 
 with one another ; secondly, these sponsors, who 
 being thus brought together, allow themselves with 
 one another in familiar, and then in trivial and idle, 
 talk ; thirdly, they are any who allow themselves in 
 this trivial and idle talk, — called in French ' com- 
 merage,' from the fact that ' commere ' has run 
 through exactly the same stages as its English equi- 
 valent. 
 
 It is plain that words which designate not things 
 and persons only, but these as they are contemplated 
 more or less in an ethical light, words tinged with a 
 moral sentiment, are peculiarly exposed to change ; 
 are constantly liable to take a new colouring, or to 
 lose an old. The gauge and measure of praise or 
 blame, honour or dishonour, admiration or abhor- 
 rence, which they imply, is so purely a mental and 
 subjective one, that it is most difficult to take accurate 
 note of its rise or of its fall, while yet there are causes 
 continually at work to bring about the one or the 
 other. There are words not a few, ethical words 
 above all, which have so imperceptibly drifted away 
 from their former moorings, that although their posi- 
 tion is now very different from that which they once 
 occupied, scarcely one in a hundred of casual readers, 
 whose attention has not been specially called to the 
 subject, will have observed that they have moved at 
 all. Here too we observe some words conveying less 
 of praise or blame than once, and some more ; while 
 some have wholly shifted from the one to the other. 
 Some were at one time words of slight, almost of 
 offence, which have altogether ceased to be so now. 
 Still these are rare by comparison with those which 
 
VII. Imp^ Brat, Pragmatical. 309 
 
 , . \ 
 
 once were harmless, but now are harmless no more ; 
 which once, it may be, were terms of honour, but 
 which now imply a slight or even a scorn. It is only 
 too easy to perceive why these should exceed those in 
 number. 
 
 Let us take an example or two. To speak now of 
 royal children as ' royal tj?ips^' would sound, and ac 
 cording to our present usage would be, impertinent ; 
 and yet ' imp ' was once a name of dignity and 
 honour, and not of slight or of undue familiarity. 
 Thus Spenser addresses the Muses, 
 
 ' Ye sacred imps that on Parnasso dwell ; ' 
 
 and ' imp ' was especially used of the scions of royal 
 or illustrious houses. More than one epitaph, still 
 existing, of our ancient nobility might be quoted, 
 beginning in such language as this, ' Here lies that 
 noble imp' Or what should we say of a poet who 
 commenced a solemn poem in this fashion, ] 
 
 ' Oh Israel, oh household of the Lord, 
 Oh Abraham's brats, oh brood of blessed seed ' ? 
 
 Could we conclude but that he meant, by using low 
 words on lofty occasions, to turn sacred things into 
 ridicule ? Yet this was very far from the intention of 
 Gascoigne, whose lines I have just quoted. ' Abra- 
 ham's brats ' was used by him in perfect good faith, 
 and without the slightest feeling that ought of ludicrous 
 or contemptuous adhered to ' brat,' as indeed in his 
 time there did not, any more than now adheres to 
 ' brood,' which is another form of the same word now. 
 Call a person ' pragmatical,' and you now imply 
 not merely that he is busy, but over-busy, officious, 
 self-important and pompous to boot. But it once 
 
3IO Changed Mea7iing of Words. lect. 
 
 meant nothing of the kind, and a man ' pragmatical ' 
 (Hke TrpayiJ.aTiKog) was One engaged in affairs, and the 
 title an honourable one, given to a man simply and in- 
 dustriously accomplishing the business which properly 
 concerned him.^ So too to say that a person 'med- 
 dles ' or is a ' meddler ' implies now that he interferes 
 unduly in other men's matters, without a call mixing 
 himself up with these. But ' to meddle ' and ' meddler ' 
 did not always suggest or insinuate anything of the 
 kind. On the contrary, three of our earlier transla- 
 tions of the Bible have, ' Meddle with your own busi- 
 ness ' (i Thess, iv. ii); and Barrow in one of his 
 sermons draws at some length the distinction between 
 ' meddling ' and ' being 77ieddlesome,' and only con- 
 demns the latter. 
 
 Or take the words, ' to prose ' or a ' proser.' It 
 cannot indeed be affirmed that they involve any moTal 
 condemnation, yet they certainty convey no compli- 
 ment at the present, are almost among the last which 
 any one would desire to be applied to his talking or his 
 writing. ' To prose,' as we all now know too well, is 
 to talk or write heavily and tediously, without spirit or 
 animation ; but once it was simply the antithesis of to 
 versify, and a ' proser ' the antithesis of a versifier or 
 a poet. It will follow that the most rapid and liveliest 
 writer who ever wrote, if he did not write in verse, 
 would have 'prosed' and been a ' proser,' in the lan- 
 guage of our ancestors. Thus Drayton writes of his 
 contemporary Nashe : 
 
 'And surely Nashe, though he ^proser were, 
 A branch of laurel yet desei-ves to bear,' 
 
 We cannot always be contemplative, or pragmatical 
 
VII. Knave, Villain, Sycophant. 311 
 
 that is, the ornament not of a ' proser/ but of a poet. 
 The tacit assumption that vigour, animation, rapid 
 movement, with all the precipitation of the spirit, 
 belong to verse rather than to prose, are to be found 
 exclusively in it, must explain the changed uses of the 
 word. 
 
 Still it is according to a word's present signification 
 that we must employ it now. It would be no excuse, 
 having applied an insulting epithet to any, if we 
 should afterwards plead that, tried by its etymology 
 and primary usage, it had nothing offensive or insult- 
 ing about it ; although indeed Swift assures us that in 
 his time such a plea was made and was allowed. ' I 
 remember," he says, ' at a trial in Kent, where Sir 
 George Rooke was indicted for calling a gentleman 
 " knave" and "villain," the la^vyer for the defendant 
 brought off his client by alledging that the words were 
 not injurious ; for " knave '' in the old and true signi- 
 fication imported only a servant ; and " villain " in 
 I^atin is villicus, which is no more than a man em- 
 ployed in country labour, or rather a baily.' The 
 lawyer may have deserved his success for the ingenuity 
 and boldness of his plea ; though, if Swift reports 
 him aright, scarcely on the ground of the strict accu- 
 racy either of his Early English or his Latin. 
 
 The moral sense and conviction of men is often 
 at work upon their words, giving them new turns in 
 obedience to these convictions, of which their changed 
 use will then remain a permanent record. The history 
 
 abroad : but have need of some delightful intermissions, wherein 
 the enlarged soul may leave off awhile her severe schooling ' 
 (Milton, Tdrachordon). 
 
312 Changed Meaning of Words. lect. 
 
 of '• sycophant ' will illustrate this. You probably are 
 acquainted with the story which the Greek scholiasts 
 invented by way of explaining a word of whose his- 
 tory they knew nothing, — namely that the '■ sycophant ' 
 was a ' manifester of figs/ one who detected and 
 denounced others in the act of exporting figs from 
 Attica, an act forbidden, they asserted, by the 
 Athenian law ; and accused them to the people. Be 
 this explanation worth what it may, the word obtained 
 in Greek a more general sense ; any accuser, and 
 then any false accuser, was a ' sycophant ; ' and when 
 the word was first adopted into English, it was in 
 this meaning: thus an old poet speaks of * the railing 
 route of sycophants ; ' and Holland : ' the poor man 
 that hath nought to lose, is not afraid of the sycophants 
 But it has not kept this meaning ; a ' sycophant ' is 
 now a fawning flatterer ; not one who speaks ill of 
 you behind your back ; rather one who speaks good 
 of you before your face, but good which he does not 
 in his heart believe. Yet how true a moral instinct 
 has presided over this changed signification. The 
 calumniator and the flatterer, although they seem so 
 opposed to one another, how closely united they 
 really are. They grow out of the same root. The 
 same baseness of spirit which shall lead one to speak 
 evil of you behind your back, will lead him to fawn 
 on you and flatter you before your face. There is a 
 profound sense in that Italian proverb, ' Who flatters 
 me before, spatters me behind.' 
 
 But it is not the moral sense only of men which is 
 thus at work, modifying their words ; but the immoral 
 as well. If the good which men have and feel, pene- 
 trates into their speech, and leaves its deposit there, 
 
VII. Shrewdy Shrewdness. 313 
 
 so does also the evil. Thus we may trace a constant 
 tendency — in too many cases it has been a successful 
 one — to empty words employed in the condemnation 
 of evil, of the depth and earnestness of the moral 
 reprobation which they once conveyed. Men's too 
 easy toleration of sin, the feebleness of their moral 
 indignation against it, brings this aboutj namely that 
 the blame which words expressed once, has in some 
 of them become much weaker now than once, from 
 others has vanished altogether. 'To do a shreiud 
 turn,' was once to do di^wickedXMxvi ; Chaucer employs 
 ' shrewdness ' to render the Latin ' improbitas ; ^ nay, 
 two murderers he calls two ' shrews/ — for there were, 
 as has been already noticed, male ' shrews ' once as 
 well as female. But ' a shrewd turn ' now, while it 
 implies a certain amount of sharp practice, yet implies 
 nothing more ; and ' shrewdness ' is applied to men 
 rather in their praise than in their dispraise. And 
 not these only, but a multitude of other words, — I 
 will only instance ' flirt,' ' loiterer,' ' luxury,' ' luxurious,' 
 ' peevish,' ' prank/ ' uncivil,' ' wayward,' — involved 
 once a much more earnest moral disapprobation than 
 they do at this present. 
 
 But I must bring this lecture to a close. I have 
 but opened to you paths, which you, if you are so 
 minded, can follow up for yourselves. We have 
 learned lately to speak of men's ' antecedents ; ' the 
 phrase is newly come up ; and it is common to say 
 that if we would know what a man really now is, we 
 must know his 'antecedents,' that is, what he has 
 been and what he has done in time past. This is 
 quite as true about words. If we would know what 
 they now are, we must know what they have been ; 
 
314 Changed Mea7iing of Words. lect. 
 
 we must know, if possible, the date and place of their 
 birth, the successive stages of their subsequent history, 
 the company which they have kept, all the road which 
 they hav€ travelled, and what has brought them to 
 the point at which now we find them ; we must know, 
 in short, their antecedents. 
 
 And let me say, without attempting to bring back 
 school into these lectures which are out of school, 
 that, seeking to do this, we might add an interest to 
 our researches in the lexicon and the dictionary which 
 otherwise they could never have ; that taking such 
 words, for example, as SKKXrjfria,^ or TraXtyyevEcyia,^ or 
 evrpaTreXla,^ or (TO(piaT{iQ, or o-^oXcifrrLKoc^ in Greek ' as 
 ' religio,' or ' sacramentum,' or ' imperator," - or ' ur- 
 banitas,' or ' superstitio,' in Latin ; as ' casuistry,' 
 or ' good-nature,' or ' humorous,' or ' danger,' or ' ro- 
 mance,' in English, and endeavouring to trace the 
 manner in which one meaning grew out of and super- 
 seded another, and how they arrived at that use in 
 which they have finally rested (if indeed before these 
 English words there be not a future still), we shall 
 derive, I believe, amusement, I am sure, instruction ; 
 we shall feel that we are really getting something, in- 
 creasing the moral and intellectual stores of our 
 minds ; furnishing ourselves with that which here- 
 after may be of service to ourselves, may be of service 
 to others— than which there can be no feeling more 
 pleasurable, none more delightful.^ 
 
 ' See my Synojiyms of the New Testament, s. v.v, 
 ^ See Merivale, Histoiy of the Romafis, vol. iii. p. 440 sqq, 
 ^ For a fuller treatment of the subject of this lecture, see my 
 Select Glossary, 4th edit., 1873. 
 
VIII. Changed Spelling of Wo7^ds. 315 
 
 LECTURE VIII. 
 
 CHANGES IN THE SPELLING OF ENGLISH 
 WORDS. 
 
 THE subject of my lecture to-day will be English 
 spelling, and it will be mainly taken up with 
 notices of some changes which this has undergone. 
 You may think perhaps that a weightier, or at all events 
 a more interesting, subject might have claimed our 
 attention. But it is indeed a subject wanting neither 
 in importance nor in interest. Unimportant it is not, 
 having often engaged the attention of the foremost 
 scholars among us. Uninteresting it may be, through 
 faults in the manner of its treatment ; but would never 
 prove so in competent hands. ^ Let me hope that 
 even in mine it may yield some pleasure and profit. 
 
 It was Hobbes who said, ' The invention of print- 
 ing, though ingenious, compared with the invention of 
 letters, is no great matter.' Use and familiarity had 
 not obliterated for him the wonder of that at which 
 we probably long ago have ceased to wonder, if indeed 
 the marvel of it ever presented itself to our minds at 
 all — the power, namely, of representing sounds by 
 
 * Let me refer, in proof, to a paper, On Orthographical 
 Expedients, by Edwin Guest, Esq., in the Transactions of the 
 Philological Society., vol. iii. p. i. 
 
3 1 6 Chajiged Spellhig of Words. Lect. 
 
 written signs, of reproducing for the eye what before 
 existed only for the ear. Nor was the estimate 
 which he formed of the relative value of these two 
 inventions other than a just one. Writing stands 
 more nearly on a level with speaking, and deserves 
 better to be compared with it, than with printing ; 
 which last, with all its utility, is yet of quite another 
 and inferior type of greatness. Or, if this be too 
 much to claim for writing, it may at all events be 
 affirmed to stand midway between the other two, and 
 to be as much superior to the one as it is inferior to 
 the other. 
 
 The intention of the written word, the end whereto 
 it is a mean, is by aid of signs agreed on beforehand, 
 to represent to the eye with as much accuracy as 
 possible the spoken word. This intention, however, 
 it never fulfils completely. There is always a chasm 
 between these two, and much continually going for- 
 ward in a language to render this chasm ever wider 
 and wider. Short as man's spoken word often falls 
 of his unspoken, that is, of his thought, his written 
 word falls often as short of his spoken. Several 
 causes contribute to this. In the first place, the 
 marks of imperfection and infirmity cleave to writing, 
 as to every other invention of man. It fares with 
 most alphabets as with our own. They have super- 
 fluous letters, — letters, that is, which they do not want, 
 because others already represent their sound ; thus 
 ' q ' in English is perfectly useless ; ' c ' ' k ' and ' s ' 
 have only two sounds among them. They have 
 dubious letters, such, that is, as say nothing certain 
 about the sounds they stand for, because more than 
 one sound is represented by them, our own ' a ' for 
 
viii. Iinperfectio7i of Alphabets. 2)^j 
 
 example. They are deficient in letters, that is, the 
 language has elementary sounds such as our own ' th ' 
 which have no corresponding letters appropriated to 
 them, and can only be represented by combinations 
 of letters. This then, being, as one called it long ago, 
 ' an appendix to the curse of Babel,' is one reason of 
 the imperfect reproduction of the spoken word by the 
 written. But another is, that the human voice is so 
 wonderfully fine and flexible an organ, is able to mark 
 such subtle and delicate distinctions of sound, so 
 infinitely to modify and vary these sounds, that were 
 an alphabet complete as human art could make it, did 
 it possess twice as many letters as our own possesses, 
 — the Sanscrit, which has fifty, very nearly does so, — 
 there would still remain a multitude of sounds which 
 it could only approximately give back. 
 
 But there is a further cause for the divergence which 
 little by little becomes apparent between men's spoken 
 word and their written. What men do often, they 
 will seek to do with the least possible trouble. There 
 is nothing which they do oftener than utter words. 
 They will endeavour then here to save themselves 
 pains ; they will contract two or more syllables into 
 one ; ' vuestra merced ' will become ' usted ; ' and 
 ' topside the other way,' ' topsy-turvy ; ' ^ or draw 
 two or three syllables together, ' itiner ' will become 
 ' iter,' ' hafoc ' ' hawk,' ' cyning ' ' king,' and ' almesse ' 
 ' alms j' they will assimilate consonants, ' subfero' will 
 become ' suffero,' ' adfiance ' will become ' afiiance ; ' 
 they will slur over, and thus after a while cease to 
 pronounce, certain letters, especially at the close of 
 
 * See Stanihursf s Ireland, p. 33, in Holinshed's Chronicles. 
 
o 
 
 1 8 Changed Spelling of Woi^ds. Lect. 
 
 words, where the speakmg effort has in a manner 
 exhausted itself ; ' Shah ' ' is what remains of Khshaya- 
 thina, the name for king in the cuneiform inscrip- 
 tions ; ' ^ for hard letters they will substitute soft ; for 
 those which require a certain effort to pronounce, 
 they will substitute others which require little or almost 
 none.''* Under the operation of these causes a chasm 
 between the written and spoken word will not only 
 exist, but will have the tendency to grow ever wider 
 and wider. This tendency indeed will be partially 
 traversed by approximations which from time to time 
 will by silent consent be made of the written word to 
 the spoken ; absolutely superfluous letters will be got 
 rid of; as the final 'k' in 'civic,' 'politic,' and such 
 
 1 Max Mliller. 
 
 2 Schleicher [Die Deutsche Spr ache, p. 49): Alle Veranderung 
 der Laute, die im Verlaufe des sprachlichen Lebens eintritt, ist 
 zunachst und unmittelbar Folge des Strebens, unseren Sprach- 
 organen die Sache leicht zu machen. Bequemlichkeit der Aus- 
 sprache, Ersparung an Muskelthatigkeit ist das hier wirkende 
 Agens. Who does not feel, for instance, how much the me teres 
 of Greek, with its thrice recurring 'e,' has gained in facility of 
 being spoken over the earlier 7?idtayas, with its thrice recurring 
 'a,' of the Sanscrit ? Ampere {Fortnatiojt de la Langue Fran- 
 faise) describes well the forces, and this among the rest, which 
 are ever at work for the final destruction of a language : Les 
 mots en vieillissant, tendent a remplacer les consonnes fortes 
 et dures par des consonnes faibles et douces, les voyelles sonores, 
 d'abord par des voyelles sourdes, puis par des voyelles muettes. 
 Les sons pleins s'eteignent peu a peu et se perdent. Les 
 finales disparaissent et les mots se contractent. Par suite, les 
 langues deviennent moins melodieuses ; les mots qui charmaient 
 et remplissaient I'oreille n'ofifrent plus qu'un signe mnemonique, 
 et comme un chiffre. Les langues en general commencent par 
 etre une musique, et finissent par etre une algebre. 
 
VIII. spoken and Written Words. 319 
 
 like words ; the ' Engleneloande' of Henry the Third's 
 famous proclamation (1258) will become the 'Eng- 
 land ' which we now write, seven letters instead of 
 thirteen ; here and there a letter dropped in speech 
 will be dropped also in writing, as the ' s ' in so many 
 French words, where its absence is marked by a cir- 
 cumflex ; a new shape, contracted or briefer, which a 
 word has taken on the lips of men, will find its repre- 
 sentation in their writing ; as ' chirurgeon ' will not 
 merely be pronounced, but also spelt, '■ surgeon ; ' 
 * squinancy ' ' quinsey ; ' ' Eoforwic,' or ' Euerwic,' 
 ' York ; ' ' Botolphstown ' ' Boston ; ' 1 while St. ' ^thel- 
 thryth,' patroness of Ely, will be written, as well as 
 pronounced, St. ' Audre.' Still, notwithstanding these 
 partial readjustments of the relations between the two, 
 the anomalies will be infinite ; there will be a multi- 
 tude of written letters which have ceased to be sounded 
 letters ; words not a few will exist in one shape upon 
 our lips, and in quite another in our books. Some- 
 times, as in such proper names as ' Beauchamp ' and 
 ' Belvoir,' even the pretence of an agreement between 
 the written word and the spoken will have been aban- 
 doned. 
 
 It is inevitable that the question should arise — 
 Shall these a.nomalies be meddled with ? shall it be 
 attempted to remove them, and to bring writing and 
 speech into harmony and consent — a harmony and 
 consent which never indeed in actual fact at any 
 period of the language existed, but which yet may be 
 regarded as the object of written speech, as the idea 
 
 ' In like manner in modern Greek, ets Nt/caiav will issue in 
 Isnik, just as ets Th]v irdKiv in Istamboul. 
 
o 
 
 20 Changed Spelling of Words. lect. 
 
 which, however imperfectly reaUzed, has, in the re- 
 duction of spoken sounds to written, floated before 
 the minds of men ? If the attempt is to be made, it 
 is clear that it can only be made in one way. There 
 is not the alternative here, that either Mahomet shall 
 go to the mountain, or the mountain to Mahomet. 
 The spoken word is the mountain ; it will not stir ; 
 it will resist all attempts to move it. Conscious of 
 superior rights, that it existed the first, that it is, so to 
 say, the elder brother, it will never consent to become 
 different from what it has been, that so it may more 
 closely conform and comply with the ™tten word. 
 Men will not be persuaded to pronounce ' wou/d ' and 
 ' shou/d,' because they write these words with an ' 1 ' : 
 but what if they could be induced to write ' woud ' 
 and ' shoud,' because they so pronounce ; and to 
 adopt the same course wherever a discrepancy exists 
 between the word as spoken, and as written ? Might 
 not the gulf between the two be in this way made to 
 disappear ? 
 
 Here we have the explanation of that which in the 
 history of almost all literatures has repeated itself 
 more than once, namely, the endeavour to introduce 
 phonetic spelling. It has certain plausibilities to rest 
 on ; it appeals to the unquestionable fact that the 
 written word was intended to picture to the eye what 
 the spoken word sounded in the ear. For all this I 
 believe that it would be impossible to introduce it ; 
 and, even if possible, that it would be most unde- 
 sirable, and this for two reasons : the first being that 
 the losses consequent upon its introduction would far 
 outweigh the gains, even supposing those gains as 
 large as the advocates of the scheme promise ; the 
 
VIII. Phonetic Writing. 321 
 
 second, that these promised gains would themselves 
 be only very partially realized, if at all. 
 
 I believe it to be impossible. It is dear that such 
 a scheme must begin with the reconstruction of the 
 alphabet. The first thing that the phonographers 
 have perceived is the necessity for the creation of a 
 vast number of new signs, the poverty of all existing 
 alphabets, at any rate of our own, not yielding a 
 several sign for all the several sounds in the language. 
 Our English phonographers have therefore had to 
 invent ten of these new signs or letters, which are 
 henceforth to take their place with our ' a, b, c,' and 
 to enjoy equal rights with them. Rejecting two ('q,' 
 ^ X '), and adding ten, they have raised their alphabet 
 from twenty-six letters to thirty-four. But to procure 
 the reception of such a reconstructed alphabet is 
 simply an impossibility, as much an impossibility as 
 would be the reconstruction of the language in any 
 points where it was manifestly deficient or illogical. 
 Sciolists or scholars may sit down in their studies, and 
 devise these new letters, and prove that we need 
 them, and that the introduction of them would be a 
 manifest gain ; and this may be all very true : but if 
 they imagine that they can persuade a people to adopt 
 them, they know little of the extent to which its alpha- 
 bet is entwined with the whole innermost life of a 
 people.^ One may freely own that most present 
 
 ^ Of course it is quite a different thing when philologers, for 
 their own special purposes, endeavour to construct an alphabet 
 which shall cover all sounds of human speech, and shall enable 
 them to communicate to one another in all parts of the world 
 Avhat is the true pronunciation, or what they believe to be true 
 
 Y 
 
32 2 Changed Spelling of Words. Lect. 
 
 alphabets are redundant here, are deficient there ; 
 our Enghsh is as greatly at fault as any, perhaps is 
 the most faulty of all,^ and with that we have chiefly 
 to do. Unquestionably it has more letters than one 
 to express one and the same sound ; it has only one 
 letter to express two or three sounds ; it has sounds 
 which are only capable of being expressed at all by 
 awkward and roundabout expedients. Yet at the 
 same time we must accept the fact, as we accept any 
 other which it is out of our power to change — with 
 regret indeed, but with a perfect acquiescence : as one 
 accepts the fact that Ireland is not some thirty or 
 forty miles nearer to England — that it is so difficult to 
 get round Cape Horn — that the climate of Africa is 
 so fatal to European life. A people will no more 
 quit their alphabet than they will quit their language, 
 they will no more consent to modify the one at a 
 command from without than the other. Caesar avowed 
 that with all his power he could not introduce a new 
 word, and certainly Claudius could not introduce a 
 new letter. Centuries may bring about and sanc- 
 tion the introduction of a new one, or the dropping 
 of an old. But to imagine that it is possible suddenly 
 to introduce a group of ten new letters, as these re- 
 
 pronunciation, of the words with which they are dealing. But 
 alphabets like these are purely scientific, and must remain such. 
 A single fact will sufficiently prove this. The Standard Alphabet 
 of the German scholar Lepsius, intended, it is true, to furnish 
 written equivalents for sounds, not of one human speech, but of 
 all, has two hundred and eighty-six signs, every one of them 
 having a distinct phonetic value. 
 
 1 See Latham, Defence of Phonetic Spelling, passim. 
 
VIII. spelling by the Ea7^. 3 2 
 
 o 
 
 formers propose^ — they might just as feasibly propose 
 that the EngHsh language should form its compara- 
 tives and superlatives on some entirely new scheme, 
 say in Greek fashion, by the terminations '■ oteros ' and 
 ' otatos ;' or that we should agree to set up a dual ; 
 or that our substantives should return to their Anglo- 
 Saxon declensions. Languages are not made, they 
 grow ; and alphabets are something more than mere 
 mechanical devices, the conscious work of men's art. 
 A very moderate acquaintance with the eternal laws 
 which regulate human speech, and of the limits within 
 which deliberate action upon it is possible, should 
 bring home to us the hopelessness of the attempt to 
 add to our alphabet ten entirely novel signs. ^ 
 
 But grant it possible, grant our six and twenty 
 letters to have so little sacredness in them that Eng- 
 lishmen would endure a crowd of upstart interlopers 
 to mix themselves on an equal footing with them, still 
 this could only come to pass from a sense of the great- 
 ness of the advantage to be derived from this intro- 
 
 ' These must, in some sense, be not ten, but forty ; for in each 
 case there must be a capital letter and a smaller, a letter for 
 printing and a letter for writing. 
 
 ^ This is indeed a very moderate statement of the facts of 
 the case. At a Conference of Spelling Reformers held in Lon- 
 don in May, 1877, a communication from Mr. Lowe, approving 
 the work in which they were engaged, was read. ' There are, ' he 
 says, ' thirty-nine sounds in the English language. There are 
 twenty-four letters. I think that each letter should represent 
 one sound, that fifteen new letters should be added, so that there 
 should be a letter for every sound.' The Bishop of Exeter, with 
 a truer estimate, as it seems to me, of what can be done and 
 what cannot, writes to the same Conference, ' It is essential to 
 have no new letters, and only a few critical marks.' 
 
 Y 2 
 
324 Changed Spelling of Words. Lect. 
 
 duction. Now the vast advantage claimed by the 
 advocates of the system is, that it would facilitate the 
 learning to read, and wholly save the labour of learn- 
 ing to spell, which ' on the present plan occupies/ as 
 they assure us, ' at the very lowest calculation from 
 three to five years.' ' Count,' says Professor Marsh, 
 ' the hours spent through life in keeping up and per- 
 fecting this knowledge of spelling, in consulting dic- 
 tionaries, a work that never ends, the hours which 
 each man spends in writing silent letters, and multiply 
 this time by the number of persons who speak English ; 
 and we shall have a total of milHons of years wasted 
 by each generation.' ^ Spelling, it is urged, would no 
 longer need to be learned at all ; since whoever knew 
 the sound would necessarily know also the spelling, 
 these being in all cases in perfect conformity with one 
 another. The anticipation of this gain rests upon two 
 assumptions which are tacitly taken for gi'anted, but 
 both of them erroneous. 
 
 The first of these assumptions is, that all men pro- 
 nounce all words alike, and thus that, whenever they 
 come to spell a word, they will exactly agree as to 
 what the sound, in letters to be expressed, is. But 
 this is not so, as is clear from the fact that, before there 
 was any fixed and settled orthography in our language, 
 when, therefore, ever^'body was more or less a phono- 
 grapher, seeking to write down the word as it sounded 
 to Juju (for he had no other law to guide him), the 
 variations of spelHng were infinite. Take, for instance, 
 the word 'sudden;' which does not seem to promise 
 any great scope for variety. I have myself met with 
 
 ' Address before the American Philological Associafio/?, p. 6. 
 
VIII. spelling by the Ear, 325 
 
 this word spelt in the following sixteen ways among 
 our early writers : ' sodain/ ' sodaine/ ' sodan/ ' so - 
 dane/ 'sodayne/ 'sodden/ 'sodein/ 'sodeine,' 'soden,' 
 ' sodeyn/ ' suddam/ ' suddaine/ ' suddein/ ' suddeine/ 
 ' sudden,' ' sudeyn.' There have been collected 
 twenty-eight ways of spelling Wiclif's name.^ Shakes- 
 peare's too is spelt in ways I know not how many ; 
 and Raleigh's in hardly fewer. The same fact is evi- 
 dent from the spelling of uneducated persons in our 
 own day. They have no other rule but the sound to 
 guide them. How is it that they do not all spell alike ; 
 erroneously, it may be, as having only the sound for 
 their guide, but still falling all into exactly the same 
 errors ? What is the actual fact ? They not merely 
 spell wrongly, which might be laid to the charge of 
 our perverse system of spelling, 'but with an inex- 
 haustible diversity of error, and that too in the case 
 of simplest words. Thus the town of Woburn would 
 seem to give small room for caprice in spelling, while 
 yet the postmaster there has made, from the super- 
 scription of letters that have passed through his hands, 
 a collection of two hundred and forty-four varieties of 
 ways in which the place has been spelt. ^ It may be 
 replied that these were all or nearly all collected from 
 the letters of the ignorant and uneducated. Exactly 
 so ; — but it is for their sakes, and to place them on a 
 level with the educated, or rather to accelerate the 
 
 * Lechler, Wiclif und die Reformation, vol. i. p. 268. 
 
 2 Notes and Queries, No, 147. Compared with this, the 
 notice of the German Consul at Ipswich (1876), that he has made 
 a Hst of fifty-seven ways in which Ipswich has been speh in 
 letters addressed to him, is hardly worth noticing. 
 
326 Changed spelling of Words. Lect. 
 
 process of their education by the omission of a disci- 
 pline as troublesome as it is useless, that the change 
 is proposed. I wish to show you that after the change 
 they would be just as much, or almost as much, at a 
 loss in their spelling as now. 
 
 Another reason would make it quite as necessary 
 then to learn orthography as now. Pronunciation, as 
 I have already noticed, is oftentimes far too subtle a 
 thing to be more than approximated to, and indicated 
 by the written letter. Different persons would attempt 
 by different methods to overcome the difficulties which 
 the reproduction of it for the eye presented, and thus 
 different spellings would arise ; or, if not so, one must 
 be arbitrarily selected, and would have need to be 
 learned, just as much as spelling at present has need 
 to be learned. I will only ask you, in proof of this 
 which I affirm, to turn to any Pro?ioimctng Dictio7iary. 
 When you mark the elaborate and yet ineffectual 
 artifices by which it toils after the finer distinctions of 
 articulation, seeks to reproduce in letters what exists, 
 and can only exist, as the spoken tradition of pro- 
 nunciation, acquired from lip to lip by the organ of 
 the ear, capable of being learned, but incapable of 
 being taught ; or when you compare two of these Dic- 
 tionaries with one another, and note the entirely 
 different schemes and combinations of letters which 
 they employ for representing the same sound to the 
 eye ; you will then perceive how futile the attempt to 
 make the written in language commensurate with the 
 sounded ; you will own that not merely out of human 
 caprice, ignorance, or indolence, the former falls short 
 of and differs from the latter ; but that this lies in 
 the necessity of things, in the fact that man's voice can 
 
VIII. PIio7ietic Spelling. 327 
 
 effect so much more than ever his letter' Q.2,xi} You 
 will then perceive that there would be as much, or 
 nearly as much, of arbitrary in spelling which calls 
 itself phonetic as there is in our present. We should 
 be as little able to dismiss the spelling card then as 
 now. But to what extent English \vriting would be 
 transformed — whether for the better or the worse each 
 may judge for himself — a single specimen will prove. 
 Take as the first sample which comes to my hand 
 these four lines of Pope, which hitherto we have thus 
 spelt and read, 
 
 ' But errs not nature from this gracious end, 
 From burning suns when livid deaths descend, 
 When earthquakes swallow, or when tempests sweep 
 Towns to one gi'ave, whole nations to the deep ? ' 
 
 Phonetically written, they present themselves to us in 
 the following fashion : 
 
 ' But "i erz not nstiur from dis grecijs end, 
 from burnir) sunz when livid debs disend, 
 when erbkweks swole-, or when tempests swap 
 tounz tD wun grsv, ho-l necons tu de dip.' 
 
 This however is but a mild specimen of the trans- 
 formation which our written language will undergo. 
 I take the following from the most recent, as it is 
 also one of the ablest, defences of phonetic spelling 
 which has appeared : 
 
 Ser Bidwcr Liton sez: — ' A mecrljii), p^'zel-heded delu3on dan 
 dat bj whig wi konfiiz de khir instigkts ov truf in our akisrsed 
 sistem ov speliij woz never konkokted bj de fader ov folshud. 
 Hon kan a sistem ov edii,k8jon fl^rif dat beginz bj so* monstr^s 
 a folshud, whig de sens ov hirii) s^ljzez tu kontradikt ? ' 
 
 ' See Boswell, Life of Johnson, Croker's edit., 1848, p. 233. 
 Adelung tells us that the word or letters ' ardzhyz ' represent 
 our manner of pronouncing ' orgies.' 
 
o 
 
 28 Changed Spelling of Words, lect. 
 
 The scheme would not then fulfil its promises. The 
 gains which it vaunts, when we come to look closely at 
 them, disappear. And now for the losses. There are 
 in every language a vast number of words, which the 
 ear does not distinguish from one another, but which 
 are at once distinguishable to the eye by the spelling. 
 I will only instance a few which are the same parts of 
 speech; thus 'sun 'and 'son;' 'virge' ('virga,' now 
 obsolete) and 'verge;' 'reign,' 'rain,' and 'rein;' 
 ' hair ' and ' hare ; ' ' plate ' and ' plait ; ' ' moat ' and 
 ' mote ; ' ' pear ' and ' pair ; ' ' pain ' and ' pane ; ' 
 ' raise ' and ' raze ; ' ' air ' and ' heir ; ' ' ark ' and 
 ' arc ; ' ' mite ' and ' might ; ' ' pour ' and ' pore ; ' ' tail ' 
 and ' tale ; ' ' veil ' and ' vale ; ' ' knight ' and ' night ; ' 
 ' knave ' and ' nave ; ' ' pier ' and ' peer ; ' rite ' and 
 ' right ; ' ' site ' and ' sight ; ' ' aisle ' and ' isle ; ' ' con- 
 cent' and 'consent;' 'signet' and 'cygnet' Now, 
 of course, it is a real disadvantage, and may be the 
 cause of serious confusion, that there should be words 
 in our spoken language of entirely different origin and 
 meaning, which yet cannot in sound be differenced 
 from one another. The phonographers simply pro- 
 pose to extend this disadvantage already cleaving to 
 our spoken, to the written language as well. It is 
 fault enough in the French language that ' mere ' 
 a mother, ' mer ' the sea, ' maire ' a mayor of a town, 
 should have no perceptible difference between them 
 in the spoken tongue ; or again that there should be 
 nothing to distinguish ' sans,' ' sang,' ' sent,' ' sens,' 
 ' s'en,' ' cent ; ' and as little ' ver,' ' vert,' ' verre ' and 
 ' vers.' Surely it is not very wise to propose gratui- 
 tously to extend the same imperfection to the written 
 language as well. 
 
VIII. Losses of Phonetic Spelliiig. 329 
 
 This loss in so many instances of the power to dis- 
 criminate between words, which, however Hable to 
 confusion now in our spoken language, are liable to 
 none in our written, would be serious enough ; but 
 more serious still would be the loss which would con- 
 stantly ensue, of all which visibly connects a word 
 with the past, which tells its history, and indicates the 
 quarter from which it has been derived. In how 
 many English words a letter silent to the ear, is yet 
 most eloquent to the eye — the 'g' for instance in 
 ' deign,' ' reign,' ' impugn/ telling as it does of ' dig- 
 nor,' ' regno,' ' impugno ; ' even as the ' b ' in ' debt,' 
 ' doubt,' is not idle, but tells of ' debitum ' and ' du- 
 bium.' 
 
 It is urged indeed as an answer to this, that the 
 scholar does not need these indications to help him 
 to the pedigree of the words with which he deals, that 
 the ignorant is not helped by them ; that the one 
 knows without, and that the other does not know with 
 them ; so that in either case they are profitable for 
 nothing ; the one standing above, and the other below, 
 the possibility of learning anything from the spelling. 
 But do these two classes make up the whole of man- 
 kind ? Are there not a multitude of persons, neither 
 accomplished and highly trained scholars on the one 
 side, nor yet wholly without acquaintance with other 
 languages beside their own on the other. For myself, 
 I cannot doubt that there is much which these can 
 gain and do gain by the aid of the very modest philo- 
 logical acquirements which are all that they can boast; 
 of a large part whereof they would thus be deprived. 
 It does not require more than fourth form Greek to 
 know that by ' syntax ' is meant the orderly marshal- 
 
00' 
 
 Changed Spelling of Words. Lect. 
 
 ling of words in their relation to one another. But is 
 not the word more for many when they know this than 
 it would othenvise have been \ while yet would they 
 have been likely to know it, if ' sintacs/ and not ' syn- 
 tax/ had been the form in which the word had always 
 presented itself to their eye ? 
 
 At present it is the written word which in all lan- 
 guages constitutes their conservative element. In it 
 is the abiding witness against the mutilations or other 
 capricious changes in shape which affectation, foUy^ 
 laziness, ignorance, and half-knowledge would intro- 
 duce. Not seldom it proves unable to hinder the 
 final adoption of these corrupter forms, but it does not 
 fail to oppose to them a constant, and often a success- 
 ful, resistance. In this way, for example, the ' coco- 
 drill' of our earlier English has given place to the 
 ' crocodile ' of our later. With the adoption of pho- 
 netic spelling, this witness would exist no longer. 
 Whatever was spoken would have also to be written, 
 were it never so barbarous, never so wide a departure 
 from the true form of the word ; the jargon of the 
 lowest of the people would be stereotyped as the 
 model and pattern of speech.^ Nor is it merely pro- 
 bable that such a barbarizing process, such an adopt- 
 ing and sanctioning of a vulgarism, might take place, 
 but among phonograph ers it has taken place already. 
 There is a vulgar pronunciation of the word ' Eur^/<?,' 
 as though it were ' Eurz//.' Now it is quite possible 
 
 ' See Notes on some English Hetcrographcrs, by H. B. 
 Wheatley in the Philological Society's Transactions 1865, pp. 
 13-59 ; an exhaustive account of the efforts of English phono- 
 graphers up to the date of his writing. 
 
VIII. Losses of Phonetic spelling. 331 
 
 that a larger number of persons in England may pro- 
 nounce the word in this manner than in the right ; 
 and therefore the phonographers are only true to their 
 principles when they spell it ' Eurup/ or, indeed, 
 omitting the first letter ' Urup/ the life of the first 
 syllable being assailed no less than that of the second. 
 What are the consequences? First, all connection 
 with the old mythology is entirely broken off; secondly, 
 its most probable etymology from two Greek words, 
 signifying ' broad ' and ' face,^ — Europe being so called 
 from the bi'-oad line ox face of coast which it presented 
 to the Asiatic Greek, — is totally obscured.^ But so 
 far from the spelling servilely following the pronun- 
 ciation, I should be bold to affirm that if ninety-nine 
 out of every hundred persons in England chose to 
 call Europe ' Ump,' this would be a vulgarism still, 
 against which the written word ought to maintain its 
 protest, not lowering itself to their level, but rather 
 seeking to elevate them to its own.^ 
 
 ^ Ampere has well said, Effacer les signes etymologiques 
 d'une langue, c'est efifacer ses titres genealogiques et gratter son 
 ecusson. 
 
 - Quintilian has expressed himself with the true dignity of a 
 scholar on this matter {Inst. I. 6. 45) : Consuetudinem sermonis 
 vocabo consenstim erudito^'imv, sicut vivendi consensum bonorum. 
 — How different from innovations like this the changes in 
 German spelling which J. Grimm, so far as his own example 
 may reach, has introduced ; and the still bolder which in the 
 Preface to his Dcutsches Worterbuch, pp. liv-lxii, he avows his 
 desire to see introduced : — as the employment oi f, not merely 
 where at present used, but wherever v is now employed ; the 
 substituting of the v, which would be thus disengaged, for w, 
 and the entire dismissal of w. These may be advisable, or they 
 may not ; it is not for strangers to offer an opinion ; but at any 
 
332 Changed Spelling of Words, lect. 
 
 Then, too, if there is much in orthography which is 
 unsettled now, how much more would be unsettled 
 then ! Inasmuch as the pronunciation of words is 
 continually altering, their spelling would of course 
 have continually to alter too. What I here assert, 
 namely, that pronunciation is undergoing constant 
 changes, although changes for the most part unmarked, 
 or marked only by a few, it would be abundantly easy 
 to prove. Take a Pf07ioiinci7ig Dictionary of fifty or 
 a hundred years ago ; in almost every page you will 
 observe schemes of pronunciation there recommended 
 which are now merely vulgarisms, or which have been 
 dropped altogether. We gather from a discussion in 
 BoswelFs Life of Jo/mso7i,'^ that in his time ' great ' was 
 by some of the best speakers of the language pro- 
 nounced 'gr^<?t,' not ' gr^te :' Pope usually rhymes it 
 with ' cheat,' ' complete,' and the like ; thus in the 
 Diinciad : 
 
 ' Here swells the shelf with Ogilby the great^ 
 There, stamped with arms, Newcastle stands complete ; ' 
 
 while Spenser's constant use, a century and a halt 
 earlier, leaves no doubt that such was the established 
 pronunciation of his time. Again, Pope rhymes 
 ' obliged ' with 'besieged ;' and it has only ceased to 
 be ' obl(?<?ged ' almost in our own time.^ ' Key ' in our 
 Elizabethan literature always rhymes with such words 
 as ' survey ' (Shakespeare, Sonnets). Who now drinks 
 
 rate they all rest on a deep historic study of the language, and 
 of its true genius ; and are not a seeking to give permanent 
 authority to the fleeting accidents of the present hour. 
 
 ' Croker's edit., 1848, pp. 57, 61, 233. 
 
 2 See p. 129. 
 
VIII. Pronunciation alters. 333 
 
 a cup of '■ tay ' ? yet it is certain that this was the 
 fashionable pronunciation in the first half of the last 
 century. This couplet of Pope's is one proof out of 
 many : 
 
 ' Here thou, great Anna, whom three realms obey. 
 Dost sometimes counsel take, and sometimes tea.'' 
 
 Rhyme is a great assistance to the detecting of changes 
 like these, which but for the help that it affords we 
 should fail to detect ; which indeed we should often 
 have no means of detecting ; which not seldom we 
 should not suspect in the least. Thus, if it were not 
 for these lines of Dryden, 
 
 ' Better to hunt the fields for health unbought, 
 Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught,' 
 
 we should not at all suspect ' draught ' to have been 
 pronounced as thus we learn that it was. So too 
 when ' should ' rhymes with ' cooled ' (Shakespeare), 
 with 'hold' (Daniel), with 'cold' (Ben Jonson), 
 'would' with 'bold' (Ford), with 'mould' (Chapman), 
 with ' old ' (Fletcher), and ' could,' for so by a false 
 analogy men had come to spell it, with ' gold ' (Ben 
 Jonson), it is plain that our ' shou'd,' ' wou'd,' ' cou'd,' 
 had not yet established themselves in the language. 
 And how little our words ending in ' ough ' are pro- 
 nounced now as they were once we gather from the 
 fact that Golding in his translation of Ovid's Meta- 
 morpJioses rhymes ' tough ' and ' through,' ' trough ' 
 and ' through,' ' rough ' and ' plough.' ^ Or a play 
 
 * In Levin's Manipulus Vocabidonim 'bough,' 'chough,' 
 'cough,' 'plough,' 'slough,' 'trough,' 'through,' 'rough,' 
 'tough,' are all arranged together, the book grouping words. 
 
334 Changed Spelling of Words. Lect. 
 
 on words may inform us how the case once stood. 
 Thus there would be no point in the complaint of 
 Cassius ^ that in all Ro7ne there was roojn but for a 
 single man, 
 
 ' Now is it Rome indeed, and roo7n enough,' 
 
 if Rome had not been pronounced in Shakespeare's 
 time, as some few pronounce it still, as I believe John 
 Kemble pronounced it to the last, but as the educated 
 classes of society have now consented not to pro- 
 nounce it any more. Samuel Rogers assures us that 
 in his youth ' everybody said " Lonnon," not " Lon- 
 don ;" that Fox said " Lonnon" to the last.' ^ 
 
 Swift long ago urged the same objection against 
 the phonographers of his time : ' Another cause which 
 has contributed not a little to the maiming of our 
 language, is a foolish opinion advanced of late years 
 that we ought to spell exactly as we speak : which, 
 besides the obvious inconvenience of utterly destroy- 
 ing our etymology, would be a thing we should never 
 see an end of. Not only the several towns and coun- 
 tries of England have a different way of pronouncing, 
 but even here in London they clip their words after 
 one manner about the court, another in the city, and 
 a third in the suburbs \ and in a few years, it is pro- 
 bable, will all differ from themselves, as fancy or 
 
 though it must be owned rather carelessly, by similar termi- 
 nations. 
 
 ^ Julius CcBsar^ act i. sc. 2 ; and compare King yolui, act iii. 
 sc. I. 
 
 ' The whole subject, which has been here touched with the 
 very slightest hand, has been exhaustively dealt with by Mr. 
 Ellis, in his great work On Early English Prommciation, 1869. 
 
VIII. Alterations in Spelling. 335 
 
 fashion shall direct ; all which, reduced to writing, 
 would entirely confound orthography.' ^ 
 
 Let this much suffice by way of answer to those 
 who would fain revolutionize our English 'orthography 
 altogether. Dismissing them and their rash innova- 
 tions, let me call your attention now to those changes 
 in spelling which are constantly going forward, at 
 some periods more rapidly than at others, but which 
 never wholly cease ; while at the same time I en- 
 deavour to trace, where this is possible, the motives 
 and inducements which bring them about. It is a 
 subject which none can neglect, who desire to obtain 
 an accurate acquaintance with their native tongue. 
 Some principles have been laid down in the course of 
 what has been said already, that may help us to judge 
 whether these changes are for better or for worse. We 
 shall find, if I mistake not, of both kinds. 
 
 There are alterations in spelling which are for the 
 worse. Thus an altered spelling will sometimes ob- 
 scure the origin of a word, concealing it from those 
 
 ^ A Proposal foi' correcting, improving, and ascertaining the 
 English Tongue, 1 71 1, Works, sol. ix. pp. 139-159. That the 
 Spelling Reformers should have recently obtained some words 
 of encouragement from Professoi Max Mliller is an immense 
 piece of good fortune, which they had little right to expect. It 
 is true that he is not sanguine as to the speedy triumph of the 
 cause, and sees and faces the difficulties which its ordinary 
 advocates for the most part overlook. Thankful as I am for 
 all that I have learned from his article Oji Spelling in The Fort- 
 nightly Reviczu, April, 1876, and all in which I stand corrected, 
 I still remain unconvinced that this spelling reform is desirable, 
 or that it would be possibls, if desirable. 
 
33^ Changed Spelling of Words. Lect. 
 
 who would else at once have known whence and what 
 it was, and would have found both pleasure and 
 profit in this knowledge. In all those cases where the 
 earlier spelling revealed the secret of the word, told 
 its history, which the latter defaces or obscures, the 
 change has been injurious, and is to be regretted ; 
 while yet, where this is thoroughly established, any 
 attempt to undo it would be absurd. Thus, when 
 ' gro<:er ' was spelt ' groi'j'er,' it was comparatively easy 
 to see that he first had his name, because he sold his 
 wares not by retail, but in the gross. ' Co.rcomb ' tells 
 us nothing now ; but it did when spelt ' cor/^^fcomb,' 
 the comi? of a cock being an ensign or token which the 
 fool was accustomed to wear. In ' grogra;;^ ' we are 
 entirely to seek for the derivation ; but in ' grogra/z ' 
 or 'grogra/;^,' as earlier it was spelt, one could scarcely 
 miss ' grosgrain,' the stuff of a coarse grain or woof. 
 What a mischievous alteration in spelling is ' d/vest ' 
 instead of ' devest.' The change here is so recent that 
 surely it would not be impossible to return to the only 
 intelligible spelling. 
 
 ' P/gmy ' used once to be spelt ' pj'gmy,' and no 
 Greek scholar could then fail to perceive that by 
 'pygmies^ were indicated manikins of no greater 
 height than that of a man's arm from the elbow to the 
 closed fist. ^ Now he may know this in other ways ; 
 but the word itself tells him nothing. Or again, the 
 old spelling, ' diam^/?/,' was preferable to the modern 
 ' diam^;^^.' It was so, because it told more of the 
 past history of the word. ' Diamant ' and ' adamant ' 
 are in fact no more than different adoptions by the 
 
 Pygmrei, quasi culnfales (Augustine). 
 
VIII. Alterations in Spellmg. ^^'] 
 
 English tongue, of one and the same Greek, which 
 afterwards became a Latin, word. The primary- 
 meaning of ' adamant ' is, as you know, the indomit- 
 able ; it was a name given at first to steel as the 
 hardest of metals ; but afterwards transferred ^ to 
 the most precious among all the precious stones, as 
 that which in power of resistance surpassed everything 
 besides. 
 
 Neither are new spellings to be commended, which 
 obliterate or obscure the relationship of a word with 
 others to which it is really allied; separating from 
 one another, for those not thoroughly acquainted 
 with the subject, words of the same family. Thus, 
 when '/aw ' was spelt ' r/^aw,' no one could miss its 
 connection with the verb ' to chew.' Now probably 
 ninety-nine out of a hundred are unaware of any 
 relationship between them. It is the same with 
 'cousin' (consanguineus), and 'to cozen.' I do not 
 say which of these should conform to the spelling of 
 the other. The spelling of both was irregular from 
 the first ; while yet it was then better than now, when 
 a permanent distinction has established itself between 
 them, keeping out of sight that ' to cozen ' is in all 
 
 ^ First so used by Theophrastus in Greek, and by Pliny in 
 Latin, The real identity of the two words explains Milton's use 
 of ' diamond ' in Paradise Lost, b. vi. ; and also in that sublime 
 passage in his Apology for Sjnectymmms : ' Then Zeal, whose 
 substance is ethereal, arming in complete diamond, ascends his 
 fiery chariot. '^Diez {Wbrterbuch d. Roman. Sprachen, p. 123) 
 supposes, not very probably, that it was under a certain influ- 
 ence of ' fl^mfano,' the translucent, that ' adamante ' was in the 
 Italian, from whence we have derived the word, changed into 
 '^Mmante.' 
 
oo 
 
 38 Changed Spelling of Words. Lect. 
 
 likelihood to deceive under show of affinity ; if which 
 be so, Shakespeare's words, 
 
 * Cousins indeed, and by their uncle cozened 
 Of comfort," 
 
 will contain not a pun, but an etymology. The real 
 relation between ' bliss ' and ' to bless ' is in like 
 manner at present obscured. 
 
 The omission of a letter, or the addition of a letter, 
 may each effectually work to keep out of sight the 
 true character and origin of a word. Thus the 
 omission of a letter. When for ' bran-new,' it was 
 ' bran^-new ' with a final ' d,' how vigorous was the 
 image here. The ' brand ' is the fire, and ' brand- 
 new,' equivalent to ' fire-new ' (Shakespeare), is that 
 which is fresh and bright, as being newly come from 
 the forge and fire. As now spelt, it conveys to us no 
 image at all. Again, you have the word ' scrip ' — as 
 a ' scrip' of paper, railway ' scrip.' Is this the Saxon 
 * scrip,' a wallet, which has in some strange manner 
 obtained these meanings so different and so remote ? 
 Have we here only two different applications of one 
 and the same word, or two homonyms, wholly different 
 words, though spelt alike ? It is sufficient to note 
 how the first of these ' scrips ' used to be written, 
 namely with a final * t,' not ' scrip ' but ' scrip/,' and 
 the question is answered. This ' scrip ' is a Latin, as 
 the other is an English, word, and meant at first 
 simply a ivritten (scripta) piece of paper — a circum- 
 stance which since the omission of the final ' t ' may 
 easily escape our knowledge. ' Afraid ' was spelt 
 
 ' Richard III, Act iv. Sc. 4. 
 
VIII. spelling for the Worse, 339 
 
 much better in old times with the double ' ff/ than 
 with the single ' f ' as now. It was then clear that it 
 was not another form of ' afeared/ but wholly separate 
 from it, the participle of the verb 'to affray/ 'affrayer/ 
 or, as it is now WTitten, ' effrayer.' 
 
 In these cases it has been the omission of a letter 
 which has clouded and concealed the etymology. 
 The intrusion of a letter sometimes does the same. 
 Thus in the early editions of Paradise Lost, and in the 
 writings of that age, you will find ' scent,' an odour, 
 spelt • sent.' It was better so ; there is no other noun 
 substantive ' sent,' with which it is in danger of being 
 confounded ; while its relation with ' sentio,' with 
 ' resent,^ ^ ' dissent,' ' consent,' and the like, is put out 
 of sight by its novel spelling ; the intrusive ' c ' serving 
 only to mislead. The same thing was attempted with 
 ' site,' ' situate,' ' situation,' spelt for a time by many, 
 ' snte,' ' sntuate,' ' situation ;' but it did not continue 
 with these. Again, 'whole,' in Wiclifs Bible, and 
 indeed much later, sometimes as far down as Spenser, 
 is spelt 'hole,' without the 'w' at the beginning. The 
 present orthography may have the advantage of at 
 once distinguishing the word to the eye from any 
 other; but at the same time the initial 'w' hides its 
 relation to the verb 'to heal.' The 'whole' man is 
 he whose hurt is ' healed ' or covered (we say of the 
 
 ' How close this relationship was once, not merely in respect 
 of etymology, but also of significance, a passage like this will 
 prove : * Perchance, as vultures are said to smell the earthiness 
 of a dying corpse ; so this bird of prey [the evil spirit which, 
 according to Fuller, personated Samuel, i Sam. xxviii. 14] re- 
 sented a worse than earthly savor in the soul of Saul, as evidence 
 of his death at hand' (Fuller, T/ie Profane State, b. v. c. 4). 
 
 z 2 
 
340 Changed Spelling of Words. Lect. 
 
 convalescent that he ' recovers ' ) ; ' whole ' being 
 closely allied to ' hale ' (integer), from which also by 
 its modern spelling it is divided. I am afraid that we 
 owe to Tyndale the ' hideous interloping letter that 
 begins the word.' ^ 'Wholesome' has naturally fol- 
 lowed the fortunes of ' whole ; ' it was spelt ' holsome ' 
 once. 
 
 Of ' island ' too our present spelling is inferior to 
 the old, inasmuch as it suggests a hybrid formation, as 
 though the word were made up of the Latin ' insula,' 
 and the Saxon 'land.' It is quite true that 'isle' is 
 in relation with, and descent from, ' insula,' ' isola,' 
 ' ile ;' and hence probably the misspelling of 'island.' 
 This last however has nothing to do with ^ insula,' 
 being identical with the German ' eiland,' the Anglo- 
 Saxon ' ealand,' and signifying either the land apart, ^ 
 or land girt round with the sea. And it is worthy of 
 note that this ' s ' is quite of modern introduction. 
 In the earlier Versions of the Scriptures, and in the 
 Authorized Version as first set forth, it is 'ilandj' 
 which is not accidental, seeing that ' isle ' has the ' s,' 
 which ' iland ' has not (see Rev. i. 9) ; and the correct 
 spelling obtained far down into the seventeenth 
 century. 
 
 One of the most frequent causes of alteration in 
 the spelling of a word is a wrongly assumed deriva- 
 tion ; as has been the case with the word which we 
 dealt with. It is then sought to bring the word into 
 harmony with, and to make it by its spelling suggest. 
 
 1 Olipliant, Standard English, p. 291 ; compare Earle, 
 Philology of the English Tongue, p. 142, 
 
 2 ' Eiland ' for ' einlant, ' see Grimm, Worterbuch, s. v. 
 
VIII. Foreign Words recast. 341 
 
 this derivation, which has been erroneously thrust 
 upon it. Here is a subject which, followed out as it 
 deserves, would form an interesting and instructive 
 chapter in the history of language. Very remarkable 
 is the evidence which we have here to the way in 
 which learned and unlearned alike crave to have a 
 meaning in the words which they employ, to have 
 these not body only, but body and soul. Where for 
 the popular sense the life has died out from a word, 
 men will put into it a life of their own devising, rather 
 than that it should henceforth be a mere dead and 
 inert sign for them. Much more will they be tempted 
 to this in the case of foreign words, which have been 
 adopted into the language, but which have not 
 brought with them, at least for the popular mind, the 
 secret of their origin. These shall tell something 
 about - themselves ; and when they cannot tell what is 
 true, or when that true is not intelligible any more, 
 then, rather than that they should say nothing, men 
 compel them to suggest what is false, moulding and 
 shaping them into some new form, until at least they 
 shall appear to do this.^ 
 
 There is probably no language in which such a 
 process has not been going forward ; in which it is 
 not the explanation, in a vast number of instances, of 
 changes in spelling and even in form, which words 
 have undergone. I will offer a few examples of it 
 
 * Diez looks with much favour on this process, and calls it, 
 ein sinnreiches Mittel Fremdlinge ganz heimisch zu machen. 
 Compare Schleicher, Die Deutsche Sprache, pp. 114-117; 
 Matzner, Engl. Grammatik, vol. i. p. 483 ; and an article 
 Die Umdeutschung fremder Wbrter in Wackemagel's Kleinere 
 Schriften^ vol. iii. ; which however I have not seen. 
 
342 Changed Spelling of Words. Lect. 
 
 from foreign tongues, before adducing any from our 
 own. ' Pyramid ' is a word whose spelling was 
 affected in the Greek by an eiToneous assumption of 
 its derivation ; the consequences of this error sur- 
 viving to the present day. It is spelt by us with a 
 * y ' in the first syllable, as it was spelt with the corre- 
 sponding letter in the Greek. But why was this ? It 
 was because the Greeks assumed that the pyramids 
 were so named from their having the appearance of 
 flame going up into a point, ^ and so they spelt 'p_yra- 
 mid,' that they might find Tryp or ' pyre ' in it ; while 
 in fact ' pyramid ' has nothing to do with flame or fire 
 at all ; being, as those best qualified to speak on the 
 matter declare to us, an Egyptian word of quite a 
 difierent signification, and the Coptic letters being 
 much better represented by the diphthong ' ei ' than 
 by the letter 'y,' as no doubt, but for this mistaken 
 notion of what the word was intended to mean, they 
 would have been. 
 
 Once more — the form ' Hierosolyma,' the Greek 
 reproduction of the Hebrew ' Jerusalem,' was intended 
 in all probability to express that the city so called 
 was the sacred city of the SolyiniP- At all events the 
 intention not merely of reproducing the Hebrew word, 
 but also of making it significant in Greek, of finding 
 Up()v in it, is plainly discernible. For indeed the 
 Greeks were exceedingly intolerant of foreign words, 
 till these had laid aside their foreign appearance, — 
 intolerant of all words which they could not quicken 
 with a Greek soul ; and, with a veiy characteristic 
 
 ' Ammianus Marcellinus, xxii. 15, 28. 
 ^ Tacitus, Hist. v. 2. 
 
VIII. Etymologies affect Spellmg. 343 
 
 vanity and an ignoring of all other tongues but their 
 own, assumed with no apparent misgivings that all 
 words, from whatever quarter derived, were to be 
 explained by Greek etymologies.^ 
 
 * Let me illustrate this by further instances in a note. Thus 
 ^ovTvpov, from which, through the Latin, our ' butter ' lias 
 reached us, is borrowed (PHny, //. JV. xxviii. 9) from a Scythian 
 word, now to us unknown : yet it is sufficiently plain that the 
 Greeks so shaped and spelt it as to contain apparent allusion to 
 ccnv and cheese ; there is in fiourvpoy an evident feeling after fiovs 
 and rvpou. Bozra, meaning citadel in Hebrew and Phoenician, 
 and the name, no doubt, which the citadel of Carthage bore, be- 
 comes Bvp(Ta on Greek lips ; and then the well-known legend of 
 the ox-hide was invented upon the name ; not having suggested, 
 but being itself suggested by it. Herodian (v. 6) reproduces the 
 name of the Syrian goddess Astarte in a shape significant for 
 Greek ears — 'Aarpoapxr], The Star-ruler or Star-queen. When 
 the apostate hellenizing Jews assumed Greek names, ' Eliakim ' 
 or ' Whom God has set,' became ' Alcimus ' (aA/ci;uos) or The 
 Strong (i Mace. vii. 5). Latin examples in like kind are 'comz's- 
 satio,' spelt continually ' com^^ssatio ' and ' conid'ssation ' by those 
 who sought to naturalize it in England, as though connected 
 with 'comedo,' to eat, being indeed the substantive from the 
 verb * c5missari ' ( = Ku/xd^eiv), to revel ; as Plutarch, whose 
 Latin is in general not very accurate, long ago correctly observed ; 
 and ' orichalcum, ' spelt. often '^z/richalcum,' as though it were 
 a composite metal of mingled gold and brass ; being indeed the 
 mountain brass (6p6/'x«'^Kos), The miracle play, which is 
 'mystere' in French, whence our Enghsh 'mysteiy,' was ori- 
 ginally written 'mistere,' being derived from ' ministei-e,' and 
 having its name because the clergy, the niinisterium or ministri 
 Ecclesiae, conducted it. This was forgotten, and it then became 
 ' mystery, ' as though so called because the mysteries of the faith 
 were in it set out. Ihe mole in German was 'moltwurf once, 
 our English 'moldwarp,' one, that is, that cast up the mould ; 
 but ' molte ' faded out of the language, and the word became, as 
 
344 Changed Spelling of PVords. lect. 
 
 ' Tartar ' is another word, of which it is at least 
 possible that a wrongly assumed derivation has modi- 
 fied the spelling, and not the spelling only, but the 
 very shape in which we now possess it. To many 
 among us it may be known that the people designated 
 by this appellation are not properly 'Tartars,' but 
 ' Tatars ; ' and you may sometimes have noted the 
 omission of the ' r ' on the part of some who are 
 curious in their spelling. How then, it may be asked, 
 did the form ' Tartar ' arise ? When the terrible 
 hordes of middle Asia burst in upon civilized Europe 
 in the thirteenth century, many beheld in the ravages 
 of their innumerable cavalry a fulfilment of that pro- 
 phetic word in the Revelation (chap, ix.) concerning 
 the opening of the bottomless pit ; and from this 
 belief ensued the change of their name from ' Tatars ' 
 to ' Tartars,' which was thus put into closer relation 
 with ' Tartarus,' or hell, whence their multitudes were 
 supposed to have proceeded.^ 
 
 Another good example in the same kind is the 
 German word ' siindfiut,' the Deluge, which is now 
 so spelt as to signify a ' sinflood,' the plague or Jlood 
 of waters brought on the world by the si/is of man- 
 kind j and some of us may before this have admired 
 the pregnant significance of the word. Yet the old 
 High German word had originally no such intention ; 
 
 it now is, ' maulwurf,' one that casts up with the 'maul' or 
 mouth ; — which indeed the creature does not. 
 
 ' We have here, in this bringing of the words by their sup- 
 posed etymology together, the explanation of the fact that Spenser 
 {Fairy Queen, i. 7, 44), Middleton {Works, vol. v, pp. 524, 528, 
 538), and others employ 'Tartaiy ' as equivalent to 'Tartarus,' 
 or hell. 
 
VIII. Trafisformation of Words. 345 
 
 it was spelt ' sinfluot/ that is, the great flood ; and 
 as late as Luther, indeed in Luther's own translation 
 of the Bible, is so spelt as to make plain that the 
 notion of a ' j-z/z-flood ' had not yet found its way into, 
 as it had not effected the spelling of, the word.^ 
 
 But to look nearer home for our examples : ' Ceil- 
 ing ' was always ' sealing,' that which seals or closes 
 the roof, in our early English ; but, as it is easy to 
 explain, caelum (ciel) made itself unconsciously felt, 
 intruded into the word, and changed the spelling to 
 our present. The little raisins brought from Greece, 
 which play so important a part in our Christmas plum- 
 pudding, used to be called ' corinths ; ' and this name 
 they bear in mercantile lists of a hundred years ago : 
 either that for the most part they were shipped from 
 Corinth, the principal commercial city in Greece, or 
 because they grew in large abundance in the imme- 
 diate district round about it. Their likeness in shape 
 and size and general appearance to our own currants, 
 working together with the ignorance of the great ma- 
 jority of English people about any such place as 
 Corinth, soon transformed ' corinths ' into ' currants,' 
 the name which now with a certain unfitness they bear ; 
 being not currants at all, but dried grapes, though 
 grapes of diminutive size. 
 
 ' C<?zz;'/- cards,' that is, the king, queen, and knave in 
 each suit, were once '^^<2/-cards;''^ having their name 
 
 • For a full discussion of this matter and fixing of the period 
 at which 'sinfluot' became 'siindflut,' see an article by Jacob 
 Grimm, in the Theol. Stiui. ii. Krit., vol. ii. p. 613 ; re- 
 printed in his Klein. Schriften, vol. iii. p. 288 ; and Delitzsch, 
 Genesis, 2nd ed. vol. ii. p. 210. 
 
 - Ben Jonson, The Nezo Inn, Act i. Sc. i. 
 
34^ Changed Spelling of Words. lect. 
 
 from the long splendid ' coat ' with which they were 
 arrayed. Probably ' coat ' after a while did not per- 
 fectly convey its original meaning and intention ; being 
 no more in common use for the long garment (the 
 vestis talaris) reaching down to the heels; and then 
 ' coat ' was easily exchanged for ' court/ as the word 
 is now both spelt and pronounced, seeing that no- 
 where so fitly as in a Court should such splendidly 
 arrayed personages be found. A public-house in the 
 neighbourhood of London having a few years since 
 for its sign ' The George Ca7ining,' is already ' The 
 George and Cannon^ — so rapidly do these transforma- 
 tions proceed, so soon is that forgotten which we sup- 
 pose would never be forgotten. ' Welsh rarebit ' be- 
 comes 'Welsh rabbit',' and ^farced,' or stuffed 'meat,' 
 becomes ^ forced rae^iV 'Andirons ' must have assumed 
 its present shape from the notion that it had something 
 to do with ' hand ' or ' end,' and ' iron,' which is alto- 
 gether a mistake. The mere determination to make 
 a word look English, to put it into an English shape, 
 without thereby so much as seeming to attain any 
 result in the way of etymology, is often sufficient to 
 modify its spelling, and even its form.^ It is thus that 
 'sipahi' has become 'sepoy;' and only so could 
 ' weissager ' have taken its present form of ' wise- 
 acre ; ' 2 or ' hausenblase ' become ' isinglass ; ' or 
 
 * ' Leghorn ' is sometimes quoted as an example of this ; but 
 erroneously ; for, as Admiral Smyth has shown {The Mediter- 
 ra7iean, p. 409), ' Livorno ' is itself rather the modern corruption, 
 and ' Ligorno ' the name found on the earlier charts. 
 
 2 Exactly the same happens in other languages ; thus, ' arm- 
 brust,' a crossbow, looks German enough, and yet has nothing to 
 do with 'arm' or ' brust,' being a contraction of 'arcubalista,' 
 
VIII. Traiisfomnation of Words. 347 
 
 'wermode/ as in Wiclif (compare the German Sver- 
 muth '), become ' wormwood/ Another word which 
 in the speUing, and indeed in more than the spelHng, 
 simulates an Enghsh form, is rosemary (ros marinus). 
 There are words which, derived from one word, 
 will receive a certain impulse and modification from 
 another. This extends sometimes beyond the spell- 
 ing, and where it does so, would hardly belong to our 
 present theme. Still I may notice an instance or two. 
 Thus our ' obsequies ' is the Latin ' exequiae/ but 
 formed under a certain impulse of ' obsequium,' and 
 seeking to express and include the observant honour 
 which in ' obsequium ' is implied. ' To refuse ' is ' recu- 
 sare,' while yet it has drawn the ' f ' of its second syllable 
 from 'refutare ;' is in fact a medley of the two. The 
 French ' rame,' an oar, is ' remus,^ but that modified 
 by an unconscious recollection of ' ramus.' The 
 old French ' candel(3;r^;'<? ' is ' candelabrum,' but with 
 'arbre' seeking to intrude itself into the word. So 
 too the French has adopted the German ' sauerkraut,' 
 but in the form of V//^?/;-croute,' of which the explana- 
 tion is obvious. The Italian ' convitare ' is the Latin 
 ' invitare,' but with ' convivium ' making itself felt in 
 the first syllable. ' Orange ' is a Persian word, which 
 has reached us through the Arabic, and which the 
 Spanish 'naranja' more nearly represents than the 
 form existing in other languages of Europe. But 
 
 but a contraction under the influence of these. As little has 
 * abenteuer ' anything to do with ' abend ' or ' theuer, ' however 
 it may seem to be connected with them, being indeed the Pro- 
 vencal ' adventura.' So too ' weissagen ' in its earlier forms had 
 nothing in common with 'sagen.' On this subject see 
 Schleicher, Die Deutsche Sprache, p. 1 66. 
 
;48 Changed Spelling of Wo7'ds. lect. 
 
 what so natural as to contemplate this as the golden 
 fruit, especially when the ' au7'ea mala ' of the Hespe- 
 rides were familiar to all antiquity? In this way 
 'aurum/ 'oro,' 'or/ made itself felt in the various 
 shapes which the word assumed in languages of the 
 West, and we have here the explanation of the 
 change in the first syllable, as in the Low Latin 
 '■ aurantium,' in ' orangia,' in the French ' orange,' and 
 in our own.^ 
 
 It is foreign words, or words adopted from foreign 
 languages, as already has been said, which are es- 
 pecially subjected to such transformations as these. 
 The soul which they once had in their own language, 
 having, for as many as are not familiar with that lan- 
 guage, departed from them, men will not rest till they 
 have put another soul into them again. Thus — to 
 take first one or two popular and familiar instances, 
 than which none serve better to illustrate the laws 
 which preside over human speech, — the Bellerophon 
 becomes for our sailors the ' Billy Rufifian,' for what 
 can they know of the Greek mythology, or of the slayer 
 of Chimsera ? An iron steamer, the Hirondelle, which 
 plied on the Tyne for a while, was the ' Iron Devil.' 
 A well-known rose, the rose of the four seasons, or 
 ' rose des quatre saisons,' becomes on the lips of our 
 gardeners, the ' rose of the quarter sessions^ though 
 here the eye must have misled rather than the ear. 
 The cherry of Medoc becomes presently a ' mayduke.' 
 ' Dent de lion ' (it is spelt ' dentdelyon ' in our early 
 \vriters) becomes ' dandelion,' ' chaiide melee,' or an 
 affray in //^/ blood, ' <r/^^;^<f<fmedley,' 'causey' (chaussee, 
 or via calceata) becomes ' causeway,' ' rachitis ' 
 
 See Mahn, Etym. Untcrsiich. p. 157. 
 
VIII. Transfoi^mation of Words. 349 
 
 * rickets j ' ^ mandragora ' reappears in French as 
 ' main de gloire/ and ' hammock ' (a native Indian 
 word), for the Dutch in ' hangmat.' ^ 
 
 ' Necromancy ' for a long time was erroneously 
 spelt, under the influence of a faulty derivation ; 
 which, perhaps even now, has left traces behind it in 
 our popular phrase, ' the Black Art.' Prophecy by 
 aid of the dead, as I need not tell you, is the proper 
 meaning of the word ; assuming as it does that these 
 may be raised by potent spells, and compelled to give 
 answers about things to come. Of such ' necromancy' 
 we have a very awful example in the story of the 
 witch of Endor (i Sam. xxviii. 11-20), and a very 
 horrid one in Lucan.^ But the Latin medieval writers, 
 whose Greek was either little or none, spelt the word 
 ^ /z^^r^mantia,' while at the same time getting round 
 to the original meaning, though by a wrong process, 
 they understood the dead by these ' nigri,' or blacks, 
 whom they had brought into the word.^ Down to a 
 
 ' On such words De Quincey {Life and Manners, p. 70, 
 American Ed.) says well : ' It is in fact by such corruptions, by 
 off-sets upon an old stock, arising through ignorance or mispro- 
 nunciation originally, that every language is frequently enriched ; 
 and new modifications of thought, unfolding themselves in the 
 progress of society, generate for themselves concurrently appro- 
 priate expressions. ... It must not be allowed to weigh against 
 a word once fairly naturalized by all, that originally it crept in 
 upon an abuse or a corruption. Prescription is as strong a 
 ground of legitimation in a case of this nature, as it is in law. 
 And the old axiom is applicable — Fieri non debuit, factum valet. 
 Were it otherwise, languages would be robbed of much of their 
 wealth.' 
 
 Pilars, vi. 720-830. 
 
 ^ Thus in a Vocabielary, 1475 • Nigromansia dicitur divinatio 
 facta per nigros. 
 
350 CIia7iged Spelling of Words. Lect. 
 
 late day we find ' 7zegroma.ncer ' and ' /zegromsincy ' 
 fi'equent in English. 
 
 * Pleurisy ' used often to be spelt (it is hardly so 
 now) without an ^ e ' in the first syllable, evidently on 
 the tacit assumption that it was firom J>/iis phiiis. 
 When Shakespeare falls into an error, he ' makes the 
 offence gracious ; ' yet, I think, he would scarcely have 
 
 written, 
 
 ' For goodness growing to a plurisy 
 Dies of his own too nmch,^ 
 
 but that he too derived ' plurisy ' from phms. This, 
 even with the ' small Latin and less Greek,' which 
 Ben Jonson allows him, he scarcely would have done, 
 had the word presented itself in that form, which by 
 right of its descent from 7r/\€V|0a (being a pain, stitch, 
 or sickness in the side) it ought to have possessed. 
 Those who for ' crucible ^ wrote ' chrysoble ' (Jeremy 
 Taylor does so), must evidently have assumed that 
 the Greek for gold, and not the Latin for cross, lay at 
 the foundation of the word. ' Anthymn ' instead of 
 ' anthem ' (Barrow so spells it), rests plainly on a 
 -wrong etymology, even as this spelling clearly betrays 
 what that wrong etymology is. ' Antiphona' is its proper 
 ancestor, or more properly is itself in an earlier stage of 
 existence. ' Windore ' for ' window,' not unfrequent in 
 manuscripts, rests on the assumption that the word was 
 originally ' wind-door,' and not as it is indeed ' wind- 
 eye,' 'vindauga' in the Icelandic. In like manner 
 ' lant-horn ' (Fuller) for ' lantern ' sufficiently explains 
 itself. ' Rhyme ' with a ' y ' is a modern misspelling ; 
 and would never have been but for the undue influ- 
 ence which the Greek ' rhythm ' has exercised upon 
 it. Spenser and his contemporaries spelt it ' rime/ 
 
VIII. Posthumous, F^'ontispiece. 351 
 
 ' Abominable ' was not unfrequently in the seven- 
 teenth century spelt ' ab/iominable/ as though it were 
 that which departed from the human {ab homine) into 
 the bestial or devilish. ' Posthumous ' owes the ' h ' 
 which has found its way into it to the notion that, 
 instead of being a superlative of 'posterus/ it has 
 something to do with ' post humum.' Other foreign 
 words which have in whole or in part simulated 
 an English form, and have endeavoured to look 
 like English, though without having always made 
 up their mind what English they should suggest, 
 are the following, 'arblast,' 'furbelow,' 'rosemary,' 
 ' somerset.' 
 
 In all these instances but one the correct spelling 
 has in the end resumed its sway. Not so however 
 ' frontisp/«?ce,' which ought to be spelt ' frontisp/ce,' 
 (it was so by Milton and others,) being the Low Latin 
 ' frontispicium,' from ' frons ' and ' aspicio,' the fore- 
 front of the building, that side which presents itself 
 to the view. The entirely ungrounded notion that 
 ' piece ' constitutes the last syllable, has given rise to 
 our present orthography.^ 
 
 ' As ' orthography ' itself means ' right spelling, ' it might be 
 a curious question whether it is permissible to speak of an in- 
 correct crM(7graphy, that is, of a wrong r/^/z/-spelling. The 
 question thus started is one of frequent recurrence, and it is 
 worthy of note how often this co7itradictio in adjecto is found to 
 occur. Thus the Greeks, having no convenient word for rider, 
 apart from rider on a horse, did not scruple to speak of the 
 horsevcizxv [iTnrevs) upon an elephant. They are often as inaccu- 
 rate and with no necessity ; as in using avlpias of the statue of a 
 woman \ where ^Ikwv or ayaXfia would have served as well. So 
 
352 Changed Spelling of Words. Lect. 
 
 You may, perhaps, wonder that I have dwelt so 
 long on these details of spelling ; but indeed of how 
 much beyond itself is accurate or inaccurate spelling 
 
 too their table (Tpa7re^a = T6Tpo7reCa) involved probably \\\Q.fo2ir 
 feet which commonly support one ; yet they did not shrink from 
 speaking of a Mr^^- footed table (rptTrous rpaTre^a), in other words, 
 a *//ir<?^-footedy27«r-footed ;' much as though we should speak 
 of a * ///?r^- footed quadru-^Q^..^ Homei-'s 'hecatomb' is not of 
 a hujidred, but of twelve, oxen ; and elsewhere of Hebe he 
 says, in words not reproducible in English, veKrap icavoxo^i. 
 His iKTiSer] Kwi-q, a helmet of weasel-skin, but more strictly a 
 weaselskin dogskin, contains a like contradiction. ''KKparos, the 
 unmingled, had so come to stand for wine, that St. John speaks 
 of aKparos K€KepaaiJ.4vos (Rev. xiv. lo), or the mingled unmingled. 
 Boxes to hold precious ointments were so commonly of alabaster, 
 that they bore this name whether they were so or not ; and 
 Theocritus celebrates ^golden alabasters ; ' as one might now 
 speak of a ' silver pyx,' that is a silver (^^jcwood, or of an 'iron 
 box.' Cicero has no choice but to call a water-clock a ze/a^^rjz/w- 
 dial (solarium ex aqua) ; Columella speaks of a ' vintage oi honey ' 
 (vindemia mellis), and Horace invites his friend to mxpede, not 
 Mvifoot, but his head, with myrtle {caput m\.ped\XQ. myrto). A 
 German who should desire to tell of the golden shoes with which 
 the folly of Caligula adorned his horse, could scarcely avoid 
 speaking of golden hooi-irons. Ink in some Gennan dialects is 
 'blakj'but red ink is 'rood blak,' or red black. The same 
 inner contradiction is involved in 'dienstfrau,' or serving mis- 
 tress ; and again in such phrases as these, a ^ false z/^rdict,' a 
 ^ steel pen'' (penna), a '■steel cuirass'' ('coriacea' from corium, 
 leather), "^ antics new'' (Harington's yinWf), ' looking-^/ajj-^-^ of 
 brass' (Exod. xxxviii. 8), a ^ sweet sauce' (salsa), an ^ envneous 
 etymdVo^' 'the nominative case^' the very idea of 'case' being 
 that of ^z//m^^ ^z<:/«)' from the nominative, which itself is assumed 
 to stand erect; ^ rather late,' ' rather ' being the comparative of 
 ' rathe ; ' and in others. See Gerber, Sprache als Kimst, vol. i. 
 
 p. 387. 
 
VIII. Siren not Syren. 353 
 
 the certain indication. Thus, when we meet 'sjTen,' 
 for ' s/ren/ as so strangely often we do, ahnost always 
 in newspapers, and often where we should hardly 
 have expected (I met it lately in the Quarterly Re- 
 view, and again in Gifford's Massinger), how difficult 
 it is not to be 'judges of evil thoughts,' and to take 
 this slovenly misspelling as the specimen and evi- 
 dence of an inaccuracy and ignorance which reaches 
 very far wider than the single word which is before 
 us. But why is it that so much significance is ascribed 
 to a wrong spelling? Because ignorance of a word's 
 spelling at once argues ignorance of its origin and 
 derivation. I do not mean that one who spells rightly 
 may not be ignorant of it too ; but he who spells 
 wrongly is certainly so. We are quite sure that he 
 who for ' szren ' writes ' s^jren,' knows nothing of the 
 magic knots and entanglements {(reipal) of song, by 
 which those enchantresses, at once so fair and so foul, 
 were supposed to draw as many as heard them to 
 their ruin ; and from which they most probably had 
 their name. 
 
 Correct or incorrect orthography being, then, this 
 note of accurate or inaccurate knowledge, we may 
 confidently conclude where two spellings of a word 
 exist, and are both employed by persons who gene- 
 rally write with precision, that there must be some- 
 thing to account for this. It will be worth your while 
 to inquire into the causes which enable both spellings 
 to hold their ground, and to have their supporters not 
 ascribing either one or the other to mere carelessness 
 or error. You will commonly find that two spellings 
 exist, because two views of the word's origin exist, 
 
 A A 
 
354 Changed Spelling of Words. lect. 
 
 which those two spellings severally express. The 
 question therefore which way of spelling should con- 
 tinue, and w^iolly supersede the other, and w4iich, so 
 long, as both find allowance, we should ourselves em- 
 ploy, can only be settled by determining which of these 
 etymologies deserves the preference. It is thus ^^'ith 
 ' chjvmist' and ' ch<?mist,' neither of which has obtained 
 in our common use a complete ascendency over the 
 other. It is not here, that one mode is certainly right, 
 the other as certainly wrong : but they severally repre- 
 sent two different etymologies of the w^ord, and each 
 is correct according to its own. When we spell 
 ' cli>'mist ^ and ' chemistry,' w^e implicitly affirm the 
 words to be derived from the Greek x^A*^^? sap ; and 
 the chymic art will then have occupied itself first with 
 distilling the juice and sap of plants, and will from this 
 have drawn its name. But this is not accepted by all. 
 Many object, that it was not the distillation of herbs, 
 but the amalgamation of metals, with which chemistry 
 occupied itself at the first; and find in the word a refer- 
 ence to Egypt, the land of Ham or ' Cham,' ' in which 
 this art was first practised with success. If these are 
 right, ' ch^nist,' and not ' chj^mist,' would be the only 
 correct spelling. 
 
 Of how much confusion the spelling which used 
 to be so common, ' satyr ' for ' satire,' is at once the 
 consequence, the expression, and again the cause. 
 
 * XTj^ta, the name of Egypt ; see Plutarch, De Is. et Os. c. 33. 
 For reasons against this, the favourite etymology at present, see 
 Mahn, Etyviol. Untersuch. p. 81. There is some uncertainty 
 about the spelling of * hybrid ; ' if from u/8p:s, this would of 
 course at once settle the question. 
 
VIII. Satire and Satyr. 355 
 
 Not indeed that this confusion first began with us ; ^ 
 already in the Latin ' satJ^'ricus' was continually written 
 for 'sat/ricus;' and this out of an assumed identity 
 of the Roman satire and the Greek satyric drama ; 
 while in fact satire was the only form of poetry which 
 the Romans did not borrow from the Greeks. The 
 Roman ' satira,' — I speak of things familiar to many 
 of my hearers, — is properly a full dish (ianx being 
 understood) — a dish heaped up with various ingre- 
 dients, a ' farce,' or hodge-podge ; the name being 
 transferred from this to a form of poetry which at first 
 admitted the utmost variety in the materials of which 
 it was composed, and the shapes into which these 
 materials were wrought up. Wholly different from 
 this, having no one point of contact with it in form, 
 history, or intention, is the ' satyric ' drama of Greece, 
 so called because Silenus and the satyrs supplied 
 the chorus ; and in their naive selfishness, and mere 
 animal instincts, held up before men a mirror of what 
 they would be, if only the divine, which is also the 
 truly human, element of humanity were withdra\\Ti ; 
 
 ^ We have a notable evidence how deeply rooted this error 
 was, of the way in which it was shared by the learned as well 
 as the unlearned, in Milton's Apology for Smectymnuus, sect. 7, 
 which everywhere presumes the identity of the ' satyr ' and the 
 'satirist.' It was Isaac Casaubon who first effectually dissipated 
 it even for the learned world. The results of his investigations 
 v/ere made popular by Dryden, in the very instructive Discoiii'se 
 on Satirical Poetry, prefixed to his translations from Juvenal ; 
 but the confusion still survives, and ' satyrs ' and ' satires, ' the 
 Greek ' satyric ' drama, the Latin ' satirical ' poetry, are still 
 assumed by many to stand in some near relation to one another. 
 
 A A 2 
 
356 Changed Spelling of Words. lect. 
 
 what man, all that properly constituted him such 
 being withdrawn, would prove. 
 
 And then what light, as we have already seen, does 
 the older spelling often cast upon a word's etymology ; 
 how often clear up the mystery, which would other- 
 wise have hung about it, or which had hung about it 
 till some one had noticed this its earlier spelling ; and 
 made this give up the secret of the word. Thus 
 ' dirge ' is always spelt ' dirige ' in early English. Now 
 this ' dirige ' may be the first word in a Latin psalm or 
 prayer once used at funerals ; there is a reasonable 
 likelihood that the explanation of ' dirge ' is here ; at 
 any rate, if it is not here, it is nowhere. The deriva- 
 tion of 'midwife' has been the subject of discussion : 
 but when we find it spelt ' medewife ' and ' mead- 
 wife,' in Wiclif's Bible, this leaves hardly a doubt 
 that it is the wife or woman who acts for a inead or 
 reward. In cases too where there was no mystery 
 hanging about a word, how often does the early spell- 
 ing make clear to all that which was before only known 
 to those who had made the language their special 
 study. Thus if an early edition of Spenser should 
 come into your hands, or a modern one in which the 
 early spelling is retained, what continual lessons in 
 English might you derive from it. ' Nostril,' for 
 example, is always spelt by Spenser and his con- 
 temporaries ' nosethrill ; ' a little earlier it was ' nose- 
 thirle.' Now ' to thrill ' is the same as to drill or pierce ; 
 it is plain then here at once that the word signifies the 
 orifice or opening with which the nose is thrilled, drilled, 
 or pierced. We might have read the word for ever in 
 our modern spelling without being taught this. The 
 ' Turl,' a narrow thoroughfare at Oxford, has probably 
 
VIII. Morrice-dance, Cray -fish. 357 
 
 the same story to tell. ' Ell ' gives us no clue to its 
 own meaning ; but in ' eln/ used in Holland^s transla- 
 tion of Camden, we recognize ' ulna ' at once. Again, 
 the ' morris ' or ' morrice-dance,^ of which in our early 
 poets we hear so much, as it is now spelt tells us 
 nothing about itself ; but read ' moriske dance,' as 
 Holland and his contemporaries spell it, and you 
 will scarcely fail to perceive, that it was so called 
 either because it was really, or was supposed to be, a 
 dance in use among the vioi'iscoes of Spain, and from 
 Spain introduced into England. ^ Once more, we are 
 told that our ' cray-fish,' or ' craw-fish,^ is the French 
 ' ecrevisse.' This is quite true, but it is not self- 
 evident. Trace it however through these successive 
 spellings, 'krevys' (Lydgate), 'crevish' (Gascoigne), 
 ' craifish ' (Holland), and the chasm between ' cray- 
 fish ' or ' craw-fish ' and ' ecrevisse ' is by aid of these 
 three intermediate spellings bridged over at once ; 
 and in the fact of our Gothic ' fish ' finding its way 
 into this French vocable we see one example more of 
 a law, which has been already abundantly illustrated 
 in this lecture.^ 
 
 ^ ' I have seen him 
 
 Caper upright, like a wild Morisco, 
 Shaking the bloody darts, as he his bells.' 
 
 wShakespeare, 2 IL'niy VI. Act iii. Sc. I. 
 
 - In the reprinting of old books it is often hard to determine 
 how far the earlier spelling of words should be retained, how far 
 they should be conformed to present usage. It is comparatively 
 easy to lay down as a rule that in books intended for popular 
 use, wherever the form of the word is not affected by the 
 modernizing of the spelling, there this modernizing shall take 
 
35^ Changed Spelling of Woi^ds. lect. 
 
 In other ways also an accurate taking note of the 
 successive changes which words have undergone, will 
 often throw light upon them. Thus we may knov/, 
 others having assured us of the fact, that ' emmet ' 
 and ' ant ' were originally only two different spellings 
 of the same word ; but we may be perplexed to 
 understand how two forms, now so different, could 
 ever have diverged from a single root. When how- 
 
 place ; (who, for example, would wish our Bibles to be now 
 printed letter for letter after the edition of i6ii, or Shakespeare 
 with the orthography of the first folio ?) but wherever the shape, 
 outline, and character of the word have been affected by the 
 changes which it has undergone, there the earlier form shall be 
 held fast. The rule is a judicious one ; but in practice it is not 
 always easy to determine what affects the form and essence of a 
 Avord, and what does not. About some words there can be no 
 doubt ; and therefore when a modern editor of Fuller's Church 
 History complacently announces that he has changed ' dirige ' 
 into 'dirge,' 'barreter' into 'barrister,' 'synonynias' into 'sy- 
 nonymous' (!), 'extempory' into 'extemporary,' 'scited' into 
 'situated,' 'van-currier' into 'avant-courier,' and the like, he 
 at the same time informs us that for all purposes of the study of 
 English (and few writers are for this more important than Fuller), 
 his edition is worthless. Or again, when modern editors of 
 Shakespeare print, giving at the same time no intimation of the 
 fact, 
 
 ' Like quills upon the i\:eii\x\ porcupine,^ 
 
 the word in his first folio and quarto standing, 
 
 'Like quills upon the ixeXhxl porpentine,^ 
 
 and this being in Shakespeare's time the current form of the 
 word, they have taken an unwarrantable liberty with his text ; 
 and no less, when they substitute ' Kenilworth ' for ' Killing- 
 worth,' which was his, Marlowe's, and generally the earlier form 
 of the name. 
 
VIII. Rtmagate, Renegade. 359 
 
 ever we find the different spellings, ' emmet,' ' emet,' 
 ' amet,' ' amt,' ' ant,' the gulf which appeared to 
 separate ' emmet ' from ' ant ' is bridged over at once, 
 and we not merely accept on the assurance of others 
 that these two are identical, but we perceive clearly 
 in what manner they are so. 
 
 Apart from any close examination of the matter, it 
 would be hard not to suspect that 'runagate' is another 
 form of ' renegade,' having been slightly transformed, 
 like so many other words, to put an English signifi- 
 cation into its first syllable ; and then the meaning 
 gradually modified under the influence of the new 
 derivation, which was assumed to be its original and 
 true one. Our suspicion of this is strengthened (for 
 we see how very closely the words approach one 
 another), by the fact that ' renegade ' is constantly 
 spelt ' renega/e ' in our old authors, while at the same 
 time the denial of faith, which is now a necessary 
 element in ' renegade,' and one differencing it in- 
 wardly from ' runagate,' is altogether wanting in early 
 use — the denial of country and of the duties thereto 
 owing being all that is implied in it. Thus it is 
 constantly employed in Holland's Livy as a render- 
 ing of ' perfuga ; ' ^ while in the one passage where 
 ' runagate ' occurs in the Prayer Book Version of the 
 Psalms (Ps. Ixviii. 6), a reference to the original will 
 show that the Translators could only have employed 
 it there on the ground that it also expressed rebel, 
 revolter, and not runaway merely. 
 
 ^ * The Carthaginians shall i-estore and deliver back all the 
 renegatcs [perfugas] and fugitives that have fled to their side from 
 us.'— p. 751. 
 
o 
 
 60 Changed Spelling of Words. lect. 
 
 I might easily occupy your attention much longer, 
 so little barren or unfruitful does this subject of 
 spelling appear likely to prove ; but all things must 
 have an end; and as I concluded my first lecture with 
 a remarkable testimony borne by an illustrious Ger- 
 man scholar to the merits of our English tongue, I 
 will conclude my last with the words of another, not 
 indeed a German, but still of the great Germanic 
 stock ; words resuming in themselves much of which 
 we have been speaking upon this and upon former 
 occasions : ' As our bodies,' he says, ' have hidden 
 resources and expedients, to remove the obstacles 
 which the very art of the physician puts in its way, so 
 language, ruled by an indomitable inward principle, 
 triumphs in some degree over the folly of gram- 
 marians. Look at the English, polluted by Danish 
 and Norman conquests, distorted in its genuine and 
 noble features by old and recent endeavours to mould 
 it after the French fashion, invaded by a hostile 
 entrance of Greek and Latin words, threatening by 
 increasing hosts to overwhelm the indigenous terms. 
 In these long contests against the combined power 
 of so many forcible enemies, the language, it is true, 
 has lost some of its power of inversion in the structure 
 of sentences, the means of denoting the difference of 
 gender, and the nice distinctions by inflection and 
 termination — almost every word is attacked by the 
 spasm of the accent and the drawing of consonants to 
 vvTong positions \ yet the old English principle is not 
 overpowered. Trampled down by the ignoble feet 
 of strangers, its springs still retain force enough to 
 restore itself. It lives and plays through all the veins 
 of the language ; it impregnates the innumerable 
 
VIII. Halbei^tsma quoted. 361 
 
 strangers entering its dominions with its temper, and 
 stains them with its colour, not unUke the Greek, 
 which in taking up Oriental Avords, stripped them of 
 their foreign costmne, and bid them to appear as 
 native Greeks.' ^ 
 
 * Halbertsma, quoted by Bosworth, Origin of the English ana 
 Germanic Languages^ p. 39. 
 
I. 
 
 INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 Accent, shifting of, 129, 22S 
 Addison, on Chaucer, 154 
 
 on Spenser, 155 
 Adoption, double, of words, 22 
 African words in English, 20 
 Alphabet, faults of the English, 32 1 
 American-English, 64, 221 
 Ampere, on the French language, 33 
 
 on the decay of languages, 318 
 
 on phonetic spelling, 331 
 Arabic words in English, 14 
 * Ard,' words ending in, 206 
 Authorized Version of Scrij^ture, its merits, 37 
 ' Ayenbite of Inwyt,' 78 
 
 Bacon, Lord, familiar with Spanish, 123 
 
 Campbell, Thomas, quoted, 102 
 
 Celtic words in English, 19 
 
 Chaucer, his diction, 93 
 
 Chinese words in English, 16 
 
 Clarendon's History, the text corrected, 15 
 
 Comparatives, two ways of forming, in English, 265 
 
 Compound epithets in English, 138 
 
 Daniel, on the future of English, 44 
 
 on Spenser, 225 
 Depreciatives, 269 
 De Quincey quoted, 36, 349 
 Derivation, assumed, affects spelling, 341 
 Dialects, their wealth, 332 
 
;64 Index of Sttbjects. 
 
 Diminutives, disapj^earance of, 269 
 Dimorphism, 23 
 
 Double adoption of Greek words, 24 
 Dryden, on new words in English, 108 
 on the diction of Shakespeare^ 155 
 Dual, disappearance of, 241 
 Dutch words in English, 13 
 
 Earle, on some results of the Norman Conquest, 67 
 
 on forbidden words, 215 
 English language, number of words in, 29 
 ' Er,' substantives terminating in, 270 
 ' Ess, ' a feminine suffix, 245 
 Ewald quoted, 218 
 
 Faber, on the Authorized Version of Scripture, ^9 
 Fairfax, his 'Bulk and Selvedge of the World,' Si 
 Fowler, on the English language, 42 
 Freeman, on English dialects, 237 
 French words in 'Piers Ploughman,' 95 
 
 in Chaucer, 97 
 
 process of their adoption, 128 
 'Ful,' adjectives with this suffix now obsolete, 188 
 Fuller, on compounded words, 138 
 
 on Chaucer's English, 154 
 
 Garnett, our debt to him, 236 
 
 Gender, in great part lost in English, 278 
 
 Genin, on supposed faults in language, 227 
 
 Germans rid their language of French words, 180 
 
 German words recently adopted into English, 133 
 
 Geruzez, on dialectic regeneration, 233 
 
 Gil, on Chaucer, 93 
 
 Greek words adopted into English, 125 
 
 Grimm, on the merits of English, 43 
 
 Guest, on French and Latin words in English, 85 
 
 Halbertsma, on the merits of English, 360 
 Hare, Archdeacon, on the study of English, i 
 
Index of Stibjects. 365 
 
 Hebrew words in English, 13 
 Hindostanee words in English, 16 
 Holland, Philemon, his translations, 106 
 
 Indian words in English, 19 
 ' It,' singular use of, 144 
 Italian words in English, 16 
 
 well known in England, 120 
 ' Its,' history of the rise of, 142- 148 
 
 Jean Paul quoted, 218 
 Jonson, Ben, on Spenser's English, 225 
 on some points of grammar, 226 
 
 Koch, on the sources of our vocabulary, 34 
 
 Languages, dead and living, 89 
 
 should be studied historically, 6 
 
 changes in, unnoticed l^y us, 8 
 
 how they separate, 49 
 Latin words, their double adoption into English, 21 
 
 their double admission into French, 25 
 
 proportion of, in English, 27 
 
 time of their incoming, 99 
 
 rejected by English, 109 
 Leibnitz, on improvement of German, 181 
 Lepsius, his 'Standard Alphabet,' 322 
 ' Less,' adjectives with this suffix now obsolete, 191 
 Lessing, what German owes him, 181 
 Littre, on the historic study of languages, 7 
 
 on dialects and their value, 224 
 Luther, his use of the popular language, 234 
 Lyell, on changes which languages are undergoing, 61 
 
 Malay words in English, 16 
 
 Max Mliller, on dialectic regeneration, 233 
 
 on grammar of languages unmixed, 31 
 
 on names and naming, 54 
 
366 Index of Subjects. 
 
 Milton, his affection for Italian, 121 
 
 his compound epithets, 140 
 Montaigne, his use of provincial words, 235 
 Miiller, Otfried, quoted, 243 
 Alurray, on standard English, 238 
 
 Naturalization of foreign words, 111-118, 125-129 
 
 Names and naming, 54 
 
 Nisard, on dialects and tlieir value, 233 
 
 Norman Conquest, its influence on English, 66-69 
 
 Orthcgraphv, 351 
 
 Palgrave, on Teutonic and Latin elements in English, 37 
 
 Persian words in English, 15 
 
 Phonetic decay, 62 
 
 Phonetic spelling, why attempted, 319 
 
 reasons against, 320 
 'Piers Ploughman,' character of its diction, 94 
 Plurals in 'n' or ' en,' 275 
 Plurals reveal imperfect naturalization, 115 
 Poets recall words, 217 
 Polish words in English, 20 
 Portuguese words in English, 19 
 Pott quoted, 57 
 I'refixes, 78, 165 
 
 Preterites, strong and weak, 258-262 
 Purver, on the diction of the Bible, 151 
 Puttenham, on words in his time novel, 105 
 
 on standard English, 236 
 
 QuiNTiLiAN quoted, 139, 331 
 
 Reformation, its influence on the English language, 103 
 
 Refugee French, 61 
 
 Renan, on languages simplifying themselves, 244 
 
 Revival of Learning, 103 
 
 Rhemish Bible, its Latin character, 39 
 
Index of Subjects. 367 
 
 Rhyme detects changes in pronunciation, 333 
 Russian words in English, 20 
 
 Satnte-Beuve, on dialects, 223 
 
 ' Satire ' and ' Satyr ' long confounded, 355 
 
 Scandinavian words in English, 12 
 
 Schlegel, Frederic, quoted, 4 
 
 Schlegel, William, quoted, 31 
 
 Schleicher quoted, 268 
 
 on phonetic decay, 318 
 Schneider, his absurd mistake, 212 
 Selden, on English, 30 
 
 ' Some,' adjectives with this suffix now obsolete, 205 
 Spanish words in English, 17 
 
 well known in England once, 123 
 Spelling, changes in, for the worse, 335 
 
 a test of accuracy of knowledge, 353 
 Spenser, his knowledge of Italian, 120 
 
 his archaisms, 225 
 ' Ster,' a feminine suffix, 247 
 Strong preterites, 258 
 
 Superlatives, two ways of forming in English, 265 
 Swift, on phonetic spelling, 334 
 
 Taylor, Jeremy, his knowledge of Italian, 122 
 
 Thomson, his archaisms, 151 
 
 ' Thou ' as a form of address, 272 
 
 Turkish words in English, 16 
 
 Waller, on the future of English, 104 
 Wallis, on the genitive in 's,' 253 
 
 on ' thou ' and ' you,' 272 
 Weak preterites, 258 
 
 Wemyss, on the Authorized Version of Scripture, 151 
 West, his archaisms, 151 
 Wheatley, his list of reduplicated words, 208 
 Whewell, on English, 30 
 Wiclif, character of his diction, 97 
 
368 Index of Sit bjects. 
 
 Wieland, what German owes him, 181 
 Woodpecker, its various names, 195 
 Words, Scandinavian in English, 12 
 
 Dutch in English, 13 
 
 Hebrew in English, 13 
 
 Arabic in English, 14 
 
 Persian in English, 15 
 
 Turkish in English, 16 
 
 Malay in English, 16 
 
 Hindostanee in English, 16 
 
 Polish in English, 20 
 
 Chinese in English, 16 
 
 Italian in English, 16 
 
 Spanish in English, 17 
 
 Portuguese in English, 19 
 
 Russian in English, 20 
 
 Celtic in English, 19 
 
 Indian in English, 19 
 
 African in English, 20 
 
 Greek in English, 125 
 
 Danish in English, 239 
 
 naturalization of foreign, 111-I18 
 
 resume their classical shapes, 116 
 
 born in this centuiy, 136 
 
 obsolete, may be recovered, 149 
 
 of one, become two, 157-164 
 
 strive to become homogeneous, 165 
 
 first appearance of, should be noted, 172 
 
 become ignoble, 213 
 
 come under ban, 215 
 
 gradual changes in their meaning, 281 
 
II. 
 
 INDEX OF WORDS and PHRASES, 
 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 
 
 PAGF. 
 
 Abenteuer , . . 347 
 
 Analogic . . .107 
 
 Abnormal 
 
 
 
 136 
 
 Andirons 
 
 
 
 346 
 
 Abominable . 
 
 
 
 351 
 
 Ant 
 
 
 
 359 
 
 Accaparer 
 
 
 
 107 
 
 Antecedents 
 
 
 
 313 
 
 Accommodate 
 
 
 
 173 
 
 Anthem . 
 
 
 
 350 
 
 Accredit . 
 
 
 
 178 
 
 Antipodes 
 
 
 
 128 
 
 Acre 
 
 
 
 297 
 
 Apotheosis 
 
 
 
 126 
 
 Adamant 
 
 
 
 336 
 
 Apricot . 
 
 
 
 14 
 
 Admiral . 
 
 
 
 122 
 
 Archon , 
 
 
 
 "5 
 
 Admiralty 
 
 
 
 173 
 
 apyvpSire^a 
 
 
 
 2S5 
 
 Adorn 
 
 
 
 . 121 
 
 Armbrust 
 
 
 
 • 346 
 
 Advocate 
 
 
 
 153 
 
 Army 
 
 
 
 55 
 
 Adyta 
 
 
 
 . 128 
 
 Arride 
 
 
 
 . Ill 
 
 ^on 
 
 
 
 136 
 
 Ascertain 
 
 
 
 ■ 291 
 
 ^Esthetics 
 
 
 
 136 
 
 Ask 
 
 
 
 227 
 
 Afeard . 
 
 
 
 227 
 
 Assassinate 
 
 
 
 121 
 
 Affrap 
 
 
 
 121 
 
 Astarte . 
 
 
 
 j4^ 
 
 Affret . 
 
 
 
 . 121 
 
 Atheist . 
 
 
 
 177 
 
 Afraid 
 
 
 . 22 
 
 7, 338 
 
 Attercop 
 
 
 
 60 
 
 Afterthink 
 
 
 
 76 
 
 Aurantium 
 
 
 
 348 
 
 Afterwitted 
 
 
 
 . 220 
 
 Aurichalcum 
 
 
 
 343 
 
 Alcimus . 
 
 
 
 343 
 
 Axe 
 
 
 
 227 
 
 Alcove . 
 
 
 
 ' 14 
 
 
 Aleknight 
 
 
 
 . 198 
 
 
 Along 
 
 
 
 . 228 
 
 Backjaw . . . .81 
 
 Aloofness 
 
 
 
 . 219 
 
 Backsmined . . .232 
 
 Amphibious 
 
 
 
 . 176 
 
 Baffle . 
 
 
 23 
 
 2, 286 
 
 B B 
 
3/0 Index of 
 
 Words and Phrases, 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Ijairn 
 
 . SI 
 
 Buffalo . 
 
 . 18 
 
 Baker, bakester 
 
 . 247 
 
 Burgeon . 
 
 . 218 
 
 Balcony . 
 
 . 130 
 
 Burn 
 
 • 234 
 
 Banalit)' . 
 
 • 131 
 
 Bust 
 
 . 16 
 
 Banter . 
 
 . 173 
 
 Butter . 
 
 • 343 
 
 Barrier . 
 
 . 130 
 
 Buxom . 
 
 • 205 
 
 Bawn 
 
 . 60 
 
 
 
 Beaucliamp 
 
 . 319 
 
 
 
 Beck 
 
 234 
 
 Candelarbre 
 
 . 347 
 
 Belvoir . 
 
 319 
 
 Cankerfret 
 
 . 221 
 
 Benefice, benefit 
 
 162 
 
 Caprice . 
 
 . 18 
 
 Bieder . 
 
 181 
 
 Carat 
 
 . 15 
 
 Birdwitted 
 
 220 
 
 Casuistry 
 
 • 314 
 
 Bison 
 
 115 
 
 Causey . 
 
 . 348 
 
 Bitesheep 
 
 210 
 
 Ceiling . 
 
 . 345 
 
 Black Art 
 
 349 
 
 Chagrin . 
 
 . 160 
 
 Blackguard 
 
 294 
 
 Chair-days 
 
 . 232 
 
 Black -sanctus . 
 
 199 
 
 Chaise 
 
 . 164 
 
 Blasphemous . 
 
 228 
 
 Chance-medley 
 
 . 348 
 
 Blubbered 
 
 214 
 
 Character 
 
 . 178 
 
 Boil 
 
 230 
 
 Cheek by jowl 
 
 214 
 
 Bombast ' . 
 
 303 
 
 Chemist . 
 
 354 
 
 Booby 
 
 53 
 
 Chicken . 
 
 252 
 
 Book 
 
 24 
 
 Chieftainess 
 
 247 
 
 Boor 
 
 306 
 
 Chorus . 
 
 "5 
 
 Boston . 
 
 319 
 
 Chou-croute . 
 
 347 
 
 BovTvpov . . . . 
 
 343 
 
 (Hiymist, chymistiy , 
 
 354 
 
 Bozra . . . . 
 
 343 
 
 Cimici 
 
 176 
 
 Brainsick 
 
 177 
 
 Circle -learning 
 
 126 
 
 Brandshat 
 
 134 
 
 Clawback 
 
 210 
 
 Bran-new 
 
 338 
 
 Clever . . . . 
 
 234 
 
 Brat 
 
 309 
 
 Clinquant 
 
 99 
 
 Brazen . 
 
 257 
 
 Coal-carrier 
 
 198 
 
 Breaden . 
 
 257 
 
 Cocodrill 
 
 330 
 
 Brigand ine 
 
 196 
 
 Coda-tremola . 
 
 56 
 
 Brim . , . . 
 
 219 
 
 Comissatio 
 
 343 
 
 Bruit . . . . 
 
 99 
 
 Commerage 
 
 308 
 
 Bruma . . . . 
 
 55 
 
 Congregational 
 
 141 
 
Index of Words and Phrases. 
 
 o/i 
 
 PAGE 1 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Contraiy . . . 228 | 
 
 Dive, dove 
 
 231 
 
 Corn 
 
 
 
 54 
 
 Divest . . , . 
 
 336 
 
 Corpse . 
 
 
 
 296 
 
 Dogma . . . . 
 
 115 
 
 Court-card 
 
 
 
 345 ' 
 
 Dorter . . . . 
 
 23 
 
 Coxcomb 
 
 
 
 336 
 
 Double-diligent 
 
 199 
 
 Cozen 
 
 
 
 337 
 
 Doughty . 
 
 213 
 
 Crass 
 
 
 
 174 
 
 Drachm . . . . 
 
 298 
 
 Crawfish 
 
 
 
 357 
 
 Draught . , , . 
 
 333 
 
 Creansur 
 
 
 
 97 
 
 Druggerman . 
 
 15 
 
 Creephole 
 
 
 
 199 
 
 Dub . . . . 
 
 213 
 
 Crikesman 
 
 
 
 133 
 
 Duke . . . . 
 
 296 
 
 Criterion 
 
 
 
 126 
 
 Dumps . . . . 
 
 214 
 
 Crone, crony 
 
 
 
 158 
 
 Dutch . . . . 
 
 282 
 
 Cross 
 
 
 
 239 
 
 
 
 Crucible . 
 
 
 
 350 
 
 
 
 Crusade . 
 
 
 
 117 
 
 Ear 
 
 239 
 
 Cuirass . 
 
 
 
 352 
 
 Earshrift 
 
 77 
 
 Currant . 
 
 
 
 345 
 
 Earsport 
 
 199 
 
 Cyclops . 
 
 
 
 252 
 
 Eaves ... 
 
 252 
 
 Cypher . 
 
 
 14, 24 
 
 Eclectics 
 
 177 
 
 
 Edify, edification 
 
 178 
 
 
 Educational . 
 
 141 
 
 Daffodil .... 24 
 
 Effervescence . 
 
 107 
 
 Dame 
 
 
 296 
 
 Einseitig 
 
 135 
 
 Damish . 
 
 
 220 
 
 Elders . 
 
 • 53 
 
 Dandelion 
 
 
 348 
 
 Elfish, elfishness 
 
 2ig 
 
 Dearworth 
 
 
 76 
 
 Eliakim . 
 
 343 
 
 Dehort . 
 
 
 202 
 
 Ell ... 
 
 357 
 
 Delectable 
 
 
 119 
 
 Eltern . 
 
 53 
 
 Demagogue 
 
 
 . 107 
 
 Em 
 
 . 229 
 
 Demy-isle 
 
 
 . 176 
 
 Emmet . 
 
 • 359 
 
 Denominationalism 
 
 
 . 141 
 
 Emotional 
 
 . 141 
 
 Depot 
 
 
 . 129 
 
 Empfindsam . 
 
 . 181 
 
 Desenvoltura . 
 
 
 . 124 
 
 Encyclopaedia . 
 
 . 126 
 
 Dewbit . 
 
 
 . 231 
 
 Enfantillage . 
 
 . 107 
 
 Diamond 
 
 
 • 336 
 
 Engastrimyth . 
 
 . l^t 
 
 Dinar 
 
 
 • 14 
 
 Enigma , 
 
 • 115 
 
 Dirge 
 
 
 . 356 
 
 Equivocation . 
 
 • 30c 
 
 
 
 
 B 
 
 B 2 
 
 
7 2 Index of Words and Phrases. 
 
 Erutp.r 
 Ethics 
 
 T]dLK7) 
 
 Europe 
 
 Eyebite 
 Eyeproof 
 
 Fairy 
 
 Fall 
 
 Fallaciloquentia 
 
 Fanatic . 
 
 Farfalla . 
 
 Faro 
 
 Fascine . 
 
 Fatherland 
 
 Feint pleader 
 
 Fellow-feel 
 
 Fen-nightingal 
 
 Fetisch . 
 
 Fire-spaniel 
 
 Flam 
 
 Flayte . 
 
 Fleck . 
 
 Flota 
 
 Folklore . 
 
 Foolbold 
 
 Foolhappy 
 
 Foolhardy 
 
 Foolhasty 
 
 Foollarge 
 
 Force 
 
 Forced meat 
 
 Foretalk 
 
 Fougue . 
 
 Fraischeur 
 
 Frances . 
 
 Francis . 
 
 86, 
 
 215 
 
 Freshet . 
 
 176 
 
 Frimm . 
 
 176 
 
 Fritzkin . 
 
 330 
 
 Frivolite 
 
 77 
 
 Frontispiece . 
 
 77 
 
 Fun 
 
 
 Fungus . 
 
 
 Furlong . 
 
 296 
 
 
 221 
 
 
 139 
 
 Gainly . 
 
 173 
 
 Gallon . 
 
 122 
 
 Gamester 
 
 161 
 
 Gamin . 
 
 174 
 
 Garble . 
 
 135 
 
 Gaster 
 
 300 
 
 Gebilde . 
 
 219 
 
 Girl 
 
 232 
 
 Gladiator 
 
 19 
 
 Glassen . 
 
 220 
 
 Goldhoard 
 
 214 
 
 Gonfalon 
 
 219 
 
 Gossip 
 
 219 
 
 Grain 
 
 19 
 
 Great . 
 
 136 
 
 Grimsire 
 
 203 
 
 Grocer . 
 
 203 
 
 Grogram 
 
 203 
 
 Gruesome 
 
 203 
 
 Gull 
 
 203 
 
 
 234 
 
 
 346 
 
 Habergeon 
 
 79 
 
 Halfgod . 
 
 125 
 
 Hallow . 
 
 125 
 
 Hammock 
 
 160 
 
 Hand over head 
 
 160 
 
 Handbook 
 
hidex 0/ Words afid Phrases. 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Hangdog . . .211 
 
 Island 
 
 340 
 
 Heady . 
 
 
 
 • 177 
 
 Isle 
 
 340 
 
 Hearten , 
 
 
 
 . 219 
 
 Isnik 
 
 319 
 
 Heat, het 
 
 
 
 . 231 
 
 Isolated . 
 
 175 
 
 Heavy friend 
 
 
 
 . 198 
 
 Istamboul 
 
 319 
 
 Heft 
 
 
 
 198 
 
 It . . . . 144, 145 
 
 Hern 
 
 
 
 . 228 
 
 Its . . 142, 143, 146-148- 
 
 Hero . 
 
 
 
 . 112 
 
 
 
 Hery 
 
 
 
 . 198 
 
 
 
 Hierosolyma 
 
 
 
 342 
 
 Jaw 
 
 337 
 
 Hippodame 
 
 
 
 . 118 
 
 Jeopardy 
 
 153 
 
 His 
 
 
 
 ■ 253 
 
 Joint 
 
 . 230 
 
 Holt 
 
 
 
 218 
 
 
 
 Hooker . 
 
 
 
 . 18 
 
 
 
 Hopelost 
 
 
 
 220 
 
 Kenihvorth 
 
 358 
 
 Hotspur . 
 
 
 
 198 
 
 Kindly . 
 
 289 
 
 Housedove 
 
 
 
 220 
 
 Kittle 
 
 220 
 
 Huck . 
 
 
 
 250 
 
 Klei 
 
 . 52 
 
 Huckster, hucksteress 
 
 250 
 
 Klirren . 
 
 . 234, 
 
 Hurricane 
 
 20 
 
 Knave 
 
 311 
 
 
 Knitster . 
 
 24S 
 
 Iceberg . . , .134 
 
 
 
 Ichsucht . 
 
 
 
 171 
 
 Lantern , 
 
 • 350 
 
 Idea 
 
 
 II 
 
 5» 301 
 
 Leech 
 
 60 
 
 Idolum . 
 
 
 
 128 
 
 Leghorn . 
 
 346 
 
 Ignis fatuus 
 
 
 
 175 
 
 Libel . 
 
 296 
 
 Imager . 
 
 
 
 176 
 
 Lifeguard 
 
 134 
 
 Imp 
 
 
 
 309 
 
 Lightskirts 
 
 199 
 
 Imparadise 
 
 
 
 121 
 
 Litherness 
 
 219 
 
 Incurabili 
 
 
 
 122 
 
 Little-ease 
 
 220 
 
 Industry . 
 
 
 
 173 
 
 Loaf, loafer 
 
 135 
 
 Inerrancy 
 
 
 
 167 
 
 London . 
 
 334 
 
 Influence 
 
 1 \~\ 1" AVTn /^CC 
 
 
 
 285 
 
 Lunch, luncheon . 22 
 
 9, 230 
 
 iiHeriiiebs 
 International . 
 
 
 
 19 
 174 
 
 
 
 Ipswich . 
 
 
 
 325 
 
 Malingerer 
 
 199 
 
 Irremeable 
 
 
 
 109 
 
 Maltster . 
 
 249 
 
3 74 Index of 
 
 Words and Phrases. 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Maltworm 
 
 198 
 
 Nesh . . . . 
 
 198 
 
 Mandragora 
 
 349 
 
 Niggot . 
 
 
 156 
 
 Maroon . . . . 
 
 18 
 
 Nimm 
 
 
 198 
 
 Matachin 
 
 19 
 
 Noctambulo 
 
 
 176 
 
 Matamoros 
 
 209 
 
 Noddle . 
 
 
 213 
 
 ISIaulwuif 
 
 344 
 
 Nookful . 
 
 
 191 
 
 Mayduke 
 
 348 
 
 Noonscape 
 
 
 229 
 
 Meat . . . . 
 
 296 
 
 Noonshun 
 
 
 229 
 
 Meddle, meddlesome 
 Mel ... 
 
 310 
 98 
 
 Normal . 
 Nostril . 
 
 
 137 
 356 
 
 Mellay . 
 
 131 
 
 Nugget . 
 
 
 . 156 
 
 Merry godown . 
 
 199 
 
 Nuntion , 
 
 
 229 
 
 Middler . 
 
 86 
 
 
 
 Midwife . . . . 
 
 Militate . 
 
 Milken . 
 
 Millennial 
 
 Mischievous 
 
 356 
 174 
 257 
 174 
 228 
 
 Oblige . 
 
 Obsequies 
 
 Old trot . 
 
 Omnipotent 
 
 Opera 
 
 Orange . 
 
 Orichalcum 
 
 Originate 
 
 Ornamentation 
 
 Orthography 
 
 Ostleress . 
 
 Ourn 
 
 Outganger 
 
 Outing . 
 
 Outwanderer 
 
 Overlord 
 
 
 129 
 
 347 
 
 198 
 
 84 
 
 Miscreant 
 
 Mistery . 
 
 Mixen 
 
 Moldwarp 
 
 Moltwurf 
 
 Monomania 
 
 Morris-dance . 
 
 284 
 
 343 
 60 
 
 343 
 
 343 
 
 . 126 
 
 ■ 357 
 
 
 173 
 
 347 
 343 
 174 
 137 
 351 
 247 
 
 Motacilla 
 Mother-naked . 
 Museum . 
 Mystery, mystere 
 Myth 
 
 . 56 
 . 199 
 ■ 115 
 . 343 
 . 137 
 
 
 22a 
 
 . 78 
 
 • 235 
 
 . 78 
 . 219 
 
 
 
 Pagan 
 
 . 306 
 
 Nap 
 
 . 213 
 
 Painful, painfulness . 25 
 
 0, 291 
 
 Naughty pack 
 
 . 198 
 
 Panic 
 
 . 176 
 
 Necromancy . 
 
 . 349 
 
 Panorama 
 
 . 
 
 . 173 
 
 Neednot . 
 
 . 78 
 
 Pate 
 
 
 . 213 
 
 Nemorivagus . 
 
 . 139 
 
 Pease 
 
 
 • 252 
 
 Neophyte 
 
 • 173 
 
 Peck 
 
 . 
 
 • 297 
 
Index of Words and Phrases, 
 
 375 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Peck of troubles . .214 
 
 Rakehell 
 
 . 212 
 
 Pester 
 
 
 . 156 
 
 Rame 
 
 • 347 
 
 Phalanx . 
 
 
 
 • 115 
 
 Rathe, rathest 
 
 . 204 
 
 Philauty . 
 
 
 
 • 171 
 
 Realmrape 
 
 . 220 
 
 Photograph 
 
 
 
 • 137 
 
 Reconnoitre 
 
 . 174 
 
 Picqueer 
 
 
 
 . 122 
 
 Refuse 
 
 • 347 
 
 Pigmy . 
 
 
 
 • 336 
 
 Regoldar 
 
 . 215 
 
 Pigritia . 
 
 
 
 • 179 
 
 Reise 
 
 . 198 
 
 Pinchpenny 
 
 
 
 . 210 
 
 Religion . 
 
 . 287 
 
 Plead, pled 
 
 
 
 . 231 
 
 Renegade 
 
 • 359 
 
 Pleurisy . 
 
 
 
 • 350 
 
 Replete . 
 
 • 177 
 
 Plunder . 
 
 
 13 
 
 3, 173 
 
 Resent . 
 
 • 339 
 
 Polite . 
 
 
 
 304 
 
 Revenue . 
 
 . 130 
 
 Polytheism 
 
 
 
 177 
 
 Revolt . 
 
 . 121 
 
 Pony 
 
 
 
 234 
 
 Rhinoceros 
 
 115 
 
 Pontoon . 
 
 
 
 174 
 
 Rhyme . 
 
 . 350 
 
 Porcupine 
 
 
 
 358 
 
 Riches . 
 
 252 
 
 Porpoise . 
 
 
 
 118 
 
 Righteousness . 
 
 202 
 
 Posthumous 
 
 
 
 351 
 
 Rome 
 
 334 
 
 Potecary . 
 
 
 
 118 
 
 Rood 
 
 239 
 
 Praevaricator . 
 
 
 
 300 
 
 Rosen 
 
 256 
 
 Pragmatical 
 
 
 
 310 
 
 Roy 
 
 98 
 
 Preliber . 
 
 
 
 107 
 
 Ruly 
 
 202 
 
 Preposterous 
 
 
 
 299 
 
 Runagate 
 
 359 
 
 Prestige . 
 
 
 
 128 
 
 
 
 Prevaricate 
 
 
 
 300 
 
 
 
 Princekin 
 
 
 
 270 
 
 Sagg 
 
 219 
 
 Privado . 
 
 
 
 19 
 
 Sash . . . . 
 
 117 
 
 Prose, proser . 
 
 
 
 310 
 
 Satellites 
 
 116 
 
 Pullback 
 
 
 
 78 
 
 Satire, satirical . 35 
 
 4, 355 
 
 Punctilio 
 
 
 
 18 
 
 Satyr, satyric . . 35 
 
 4, 355 
 
 Panto 
 
 
 
 18 
 
 Saucy-jack 
 
 198 
 
 Pyramid . 
 
 
 
 342 
 
 Scent . , . . 
 Schwarmer 
 
 339 
 134 
 
 Quellio . 
 
 
 
 19 
 
 Scrip . . . . 
 
 ZZ^ 
 
 Quinsey . 
 
 
 
 118 
 
 Scrivener 
 
 251 
 
 Quirpo . 
 
 
 
 19 
 
 Sculptor . . . . 
 
 176 
 
 Quirry 
 
 
 
 118 
 
 'Sdeign . . . . 
 
 122 
 
^^6 Index of 
 
 Words and Phrases. 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 PAG 
 
 Seamster, seamstress 
 
 249 
 
 Starvation 
 
 . 17 
 
 Sea-shouldering 
 
 ' 140 
 
 Starve 
 
 . 29 
 
 Selfish, selfishness . 
 
 171 
 
 Star-i-pointing 
 
 • 23 
 
 Sentiment . • i7 
 
 3, 177 
 
 Stereotype 
 
 • 13 
 
 Sepoy 
 
 346 
 
 Stingy . 
 
 22 
 
 Serene . 
 
 200 
 
 Stonen , 
 
 • 25 
 
 Shah 
 
 318 
 
 Succumb 
 
 15 
 
 Show-token 
 
 77 
 
 Suckstone 
 
 • 7 
 
 Shrew, shrewdness . 
 
 313 
 
 Sudden . 
 
 • 32 
 
 Shrub . 
 
 173 
 
 Suicide, suicidium . 
 
 17 
 
 Shunt . 
 
 157 
 
 Suicism, suist . 
 
 17 
 
 Sight . . . . 
 
 213 
 
 Sum 
 
 6 
 
 Silvern . 
 
 256 
 
 Siindflut . 
 
 34 
 
 Silvicultrix 
 
 139 
 
 Sunstead 
 
 7 
 
 Siren . . . , 
 
 353 
 
 Superannuation 
 
 17 
 
 Sistern . . . . 
 
 276 
 
 Swindler 
 
 13 
 
 Skinker . . . . 
 
 197 
 
 Sycophant 
 
 31 
 
 Skip . . . . 
 
 213 
 
 Syntax . 
 
 33 
 
 Slick . . . . 
 
 221 
 
 
 
 Slops . . . . 
 
 213 
 
 
 
 Sloth . . . . 
 
 179 
 
 Tapster . 
 
 25 
 
 Slowback . . . 
 
 199 
 
 Tarre 
 
 19 
 
 Smellfeast 
 
 210 
 
 Tartar 
 
 34 
 
 Smoulder 
 
 154 
 
 Tartarus . 
 
 34 
 
 Smug . . . . 
 
 213 
 
 Tartary . 
 
 34 
 
 Snoutfair 
 
 199 
 
 Tea . . . 13 
 
 I, 33 
 
 Soldan . . . . 
 
 122 
 
 That . . . . 
 
 26 
 
 Solidarity 
 
 131 
 
 Theocracy 
 
 17 
 
 Somnambulist 
 
 176 
 
 Theriac . . • . 
 
 29 
 
 Songster, songstress 
 
 249 
 
 Thou . . . . 
 
 27 
 
 Sough . . . . 
 
 218 
 
 Thought . 
 
 28 
 
 Specht . . . . 
 
 195 
 
 Ticket . 
 
 17 
 
 Sperr . . . . 
 
 198 
 
 Tind 
 
 19 
 
 Sphinx . . . . 
 
 115 
 
 Tinnen . . . . 
 
 25 
 
 Spinner, spinster . 24 
 
 7, 250 
 
 Tinsel 
 
 28 
 
 Squint . . . . 
 
 78 
 
 Tinsel-slippered 
 
 28 
 
 Standpoint 
 
 135 
 
 Topsy-turvy . 
 
 31 
 
 Starconner 
 
 77 
 
 Tosspot . . . . 
 
 21 
 
Index 
 
 of Words and Phrases. 377 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Tradesman 
 
 • 54 
 
 Wearish . . . .220 
 
 Treacle . 
 
 . 292 
 
 Weather-gleam 
 
 
 2^2 
 
 Trigger . 
 
 • 133 
 
 Weeping-ripe . 
 
 
 199 
 
 Trounce . 
 
 . 213 
 
 W^elk . 
 
 
 
 197 
 
 Truchman 
 
 • 15 
 
 Welsh rabbit 
 
 
 
 346 
 
 Turban . 
 
 16 
 
 Which . 
 
 
 
 261 
 
 Turl 
 
 • 356 
 
 Whiteboy 
 
 
 
 198 
 
 Tumgidy 
 
 . 1^ 
 
 Whole . 
 Wiclif . 
 Wilt 
 
 
 
 339 
 325 
 
 232 
 
 Umbrella 
 
 ■ 173 
 
 Windflower 
 
 
 
 78 
 
 Umgripe 
 
 • 79 
 
 Window . 
 
 
 
 350 
 
 Umstroke 
 
 • 79 
 
 Winter . 
 
 
 
 55 
 
 Uncouth . 
 
 . 60 
 
 Wiseacre 
 
 
 
 346 
 
 Undeathshuldigness . 
 
 . 76 
 
 Witwanton 
 
 
 
 220 
 
 Unthoroughfaresome 
 
 ness . 82 
 
 Woburn . 
 
 
 
 325 
 
 Utilize . 
 
 • 174 
 
 Womanhood 
 Woodpecker 
 
 
 
 154 
 195 
 
 Vamose . 
 
 50 
 
 Word -warrior 
 
 
 
 220 
 
 Vancurrier 
 
 118, 358 
 
 Wormwood 
 
 
 
 • 347 
 
 Verdant . 
 
 . 214 
 
 Worsen . 
 
 
 
 . 219 
 
 Vicinage 
 
 • "7 
 
 Worship . 
 
 
 
 . 290 
 
 Villain . 
 
 305, 3" 
 
 Worterbuch . . .162 
 
 Voyage . 
 
 . 296 
 
 Yard . . . .297 
 Yeel . . . .230 
 
 Wanhope. 
 
 . 197 
 
 York . . . .319 
 
 Wasp 
 
 227 
 
 Youngster . . • 249 
 
 Waterfright 
 
 • 77 
 
 
 
 Watershed 
 
 • 137 
 
 
 Watersick 
 
 • 77 
 
 Zero .... 24 
 
 Waterslain 
 
 • 232 
 
 Zoology . . • • ^n 
 
 Weaponshew . 
 
 . 77 
 
 Zoophyte 
 
 
 
 . 177 
 
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