A Book About Words. G. F. Graham
word has justly called forth the censure of some critics. If this word, as seems probable, is meant to convey the idea of ‘straight-footed,’ the third syllable should be formed from the Greek ποῦς, ποδός, a foot, and the whole word should stand ‘orthopodic,’ and not ‘orthopœdic.’
‘Stereotype,’ a term now commonly known to printers, and, indeed, to general readers, was invented and first used by Didot, the well-known French printer. This word will certainly maintain its place in English.
The adjective ‘inimical’ is said to owe its origin to Mr. Windham, who first introduced it in one of his speeches in the House of Commons about eighty years ago. It is useful to mark a distinction between private and public enmity; ‘inimical’ having the first, and ‘hostile’ the second, meaning. But the word is not very popular, in spite of its four syllables, and does not appear to make its way.
The great French Revolution of 1789, as might have been expected, brought forth many new words, some of which have been adopted in English. One, destined to become a very prominent feature of the times, was ‘Guillotine.’ This well-known instrument was named after its inventor, Dr. Guillotin. How or why they made it feminine, by adding to it an e, is not clear; but the word now stands ‘La Guillotine,’ and has secured for itself a permanent place in the French language.
Other words which were the offspring of those dreadful times have disappeared from common use and parlance, and are only occasionally referred to as memorials of the age which produced them. Such are the new names then given to the months; as ‘Brumaire,’ ‘Vendémiaire,’ ‘Fructidor,’ ‘Thermidor,’ &c. When the fury of the revolutionary spirit was at length exhausted, and things were brought back to their former condition, these words naturally fell into disuse, and at last disappeared. There were, however, others belonging to this period which seem to have taken a stronger hold on the people’s mind, and which form to this day part of the legitimate vocabulary of the French language. In this class may be named ‘fusillade’ and ‘noyade:’ those horrible wholesale shootings and drownings of the Vendéans which formed such a frightful picture of that awful period. ‘Terroriste’ first appeared under Robespierre’s administration; and the assassins of the unfortunate prisoners in September 1792 were termed ‘Septembriseurs.’
It is natural to suppose that political names would be born with the parties which they designate. The terms ‘Whig’ and ‘Tory’ were never heard of till the close of the seventeenth century; and it is curious that there is much obscurity concerning the etymology of both these words. All that is positively known on the subject is, that the first is of Scotch, and the second of Irish, origin. ‘Whig’ was first applied to the Scotch covenanters, and ‘Tory’ to the Popish outlaws who favoured the cause of King James II. in Ireland. It may be remarked, by the way, that these two words, though not wholly extinct, are now much less frequently heard than formerly. Different circumstances of political warfare have introduced new terms in both these cases. ‘Tories’ became ‘Protectionists’ during the great debates on the Corn-Laws; and now they call themselves ‘Conservatives.’ The Whigs, again, appeared on one occasion as ‘Reformers,’ and they are at present known as ‘Liberals.’
The name ‘Puritan,’ as applied to a religious sect, still flourishes in English. It was first heard of in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, and then given as a nickname to a party which would have even reformed the Reformation. These ‘Puritans’ affected a superhuman purity of morals, and hence their name. They were also sometimes called ‘Precisians,’ from their excessive fastidiousness about insignificant matters (this latter word has now fallen out of use).
The distinction between ‘Roundhead’ and ‘Cavalier’ first appeared during the civil war between Charles I. and his Parliament. The ‘Roundhead,’ in his sour and sullen spirit, condemned all outward ornament, and wore his hair cropped close; thus showing the round form of his head; in contradistinction to the chivalrous tone, the romantic spirit, and the flowing locks of the Cavalier.
The opprobrious term ‘Gueux’ (Beggars) was adopted in 1566 by the Dutch revolters against the rule of Philip II. Margaret of Parma, then governor of the Netherlands, being somewhat disconcerted at the numbers of that party, was reassured by her minister, Barlaimont, who remarked to her, that there was nothing to be feared from a crowd of ‘beggars.’ The party of confederates accepted this name, and prided themselves on it; and in every language in which the history of the revolt of the Netherlands has been written, this French term, ‘gueux,’ is used to designate these malcontents.
Many popular authors, presuming on their own authority, have endeavoured to introduce new and strange terms into the English language. Coleridge, in his work ‘On Church and State,’ makes use of the following extraordinary words:—‘Influencive,’ ‘extroitive, ‘retroitive,’ and ‘productivity.’ Bentley uses:—‘Commentitious,’ ‘aliene,’ ‘negoce,’ and ‘exscribe.’ But no other writers adopted these words: a clear proof that they were not wanted.
Charles Lamb used, in his writings, several words which have not succeeded in maintaining a place in the language. Among them may be named, ‘agnise,’ ‘burgeon,’ and ‘arride.’
Again, any subject of temporary excitement will generally give birth to some new words. The Indian Mutiny gave us ‘to loot;’ and during the American civil war, we made our first acquaintance with ‘secesh,’ ‘skedaddle,’ and ‘stampede.’ Words born under such circumstances may be long- or short-lived: some maintain a place in the language, others have but a brief existence; they ‘fret their hour upon the stage,’ and then are heard no more.
We have also many examples of words which originated in some question of passing interest, and which, though the causes of their first appearance have long since passed away, still remain in our language, and do us excellent service there. The general belief in astrology in the Middle Ages left us several words of this class. Though we no longer believe that the position of the stars can affect our fortunes, we still use the word ‘disaster,’ in the sense of a calamity or misfortune. From the same source come the adjectives, ‘jovial,’ ‘mercurial,’ ‘martial,’ and ‘saturnine.’ These express qualities supposed to belong to those heathen gods whose names were given to the constellation under which any one was born. In astrological phraseology a man’s fortune is still said to be in the ascendant, or to culminate. Both these expressions were first used by the astrologers, and referred to certain stars which, when they had risen to their greatest height, were believed to portend prosperity. The word ‘aspect,’ though now expressing the general appearance of things, was first applied, astrologically, to the physical appearance or outward view of the heavens; and ‘lunatic’ was first used in the sense of one supposed to be mentally affected by a change of the moon.
Other superstitions have produced words of a like nature. The ancient Roman divination may be still traced in our English words ‘augur,’ ‘auspice,’ ‘omen,’ &c. The left hand was always regarded by the ancients as portending ill-luck; and hence our modern word ‘sinister,’ which at first meant simply ‘left-handed,’ has now come to signify ‘foreboding evil.’
‘Its,’ the possessive form of the neuter personal pronoun, is of comparatively late introduction into our language. In Anglo-Saxon, the same form served for both the masculine and neuter possessive; thus:—
| m. | f. | n. | |
| Nom. | He | heo | hit. |
| Gen. | His | hire | his. |
At first, the nominative neuter, ‘it,’ was used for the possessive neuter, of which many instances occur in Shakspere. See ‘King John,’ act. ii. sc. 1: ‘Go