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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:40:10 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:40:10 -0700 |
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diff --git a/12524-h/12524-h.htm b/12524-h/12524-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..951961d --- /dev/null +++ b/12524-h/12524-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1503 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" + content="text/html; charset=UTF-8"> +<meta content="pg2html (binary v0.16)" + name="generator"> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of + S.P.E. Tract No. V, + by Various. +</title> +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body { margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; } + p { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + font-size: 100%; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { text-align: center; } + hr { width: 50%; } + hr.full { width: 100%; } + .foot { margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 85%; } + center { padding: 0.8em;} + + // --> +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12524 ***</div> + +<div style="height: 8em;"><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br></div> + +<h1> + <i>S.P.E.</i> +<br> + <i>TRACT No. V</i> +</h1> +<center> + THE ENGLISHING OF FRENCH WORDS +<br><b> + By Brander Matthews +</b></center> +<center> + THE DIALECTAL WORDS IN BLUNDEN'S POEMS +<br> + <b>etc. by Robert Bridges</b> +</center> +<center> + <i>At the Clarendon Press</i> MDCCCCXXI +</center> + +<hr class="full"> + +<a name="2H_4_0001"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + +<div style="height: 4em;"><br><br><br><br></div> + +<h2> + FRENCH WORDS IN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE +</h2> +<h3> + I +</h3> +<p> + The English language is an Inn of Strange Meetings where all sorts and + conditions of words are assembled. Some are of the bluest blood and of + authentic royal descent; and some are children of the gutter not wise + enough to know their own fathers. Some are natives whose ancestors were + rooted in the soil since a day whereof the memory of man runneth not to + the contrary; and some are strangers of outlandish origin, coming to us + from all the shores of all the Seven Seas either to tarry awhile and + then to depart for ever, unwelcome sojourners only, or to settle down + at last and found a family soon asserting equality with the oldest + inhabitants of the vocabulary. Seafaring terms came to us from + Scandinavia and from the Low Countries. Words of warfare on land crossed + the channel, in exchange for words of warfare at sea which migrated from + England to France. Dead tongues, Greek and Latin, have been revived to + replenish our verbal population with the terms needed for the sciences; + and Italy has sent us a host of words by the fine arts. +</p> +<p> + The stream of immigrants from the French language has been for almost a + thousand years larger than that from any other tongue; and even to-day + it shows little sign of lessening. Of all the strangers within our gates + none are more warmly received than those which come to us from across + the Straits of Dover. None are more swiftly able to make themselves + at home in our dictionaries and to pass themselves off as English. + At least, this was the case until comparatively recently, when the + process of adoption and assimilation became a little slower and more + than a little less satisfactory. Of late French words, even those long + domiciled in our lexicons, have been treated almost as if they were + still aliens, as if they were here on sufferance, so to speak, as if + they had not become members of the commonwealth. They were allowed to + work, no doubt, and sometimes even to be overworked; but they laboured + as foreigners, perhaps even more eagerly employed by the snobbish + because they were foreigners and yet held in disrepute by the more + fastidious because they were not truly English. That is to say, French + words are still as hospitably greeted as ever before, but they are now + often ranked as guests only and not as members of the household. +</p> +<p> + Perhaps this may seem to some a too fanciful presentation of the case. + Perhaps it would be simpler to say that until comparatively recently a + foreign word taken over into English was made over into an English word, + whereas in the past two or three centuries there has been an evident + tendency to keep it French and to use it freely while retaining its + French pronunciation, its French accents, its French spelling, and its + French plural. This tendency is contrary to the former habits of our + language. It is dangerous to the purity of English. It forces itself + on our attention and it demands serious consideration. +</p> +<h3> + II +</h3> +<p> + In his brief critical biography of Rutebeuf, M. Clédat pointed out that + for long years the only important literature in Europe was the French, + and that the French language had on three several occasions almost + established itself as the language of European civilization—once in the + thirteenth century, again in the seventeenth, and finally when Napoleon + had made himself temporarily master of the Continent. The earlier + universities of Europe were modelled on that of Paris, where Dante had + gone to study. Frederick the Great despised his native tongue, spoke it + imperfectly, and wrote his unnecessary verses in French. Even now French + is only at last losing its status as the accredited tongue of diplomacy. +</p> +<p> + The French made their language in their own image; and it is therefore + logical, orderly, and clear. Sainte-Beuve declared that a 'philosophical + thought has probably not attained all its sharpness and all its + illumination until it is expressed in French'. As the French are noted + rather for their intelligence than for their imagination, they are the + acknowledged masters of prose; and their achievement in poetry is more + disputable. As they are governed by the social instinct, their language + exhibits the varied refinements of a cultivated society where + conversation is held in honour as one of the arts. The English speech, + like the English-speaking peoples, is bolder, more energetic, more + suggestive, and perhaps less precise. From no language could English + borrow with more profit to itself than from French; and from no language + has it borrowed more abundantly and more persistently. Many of the + English words which we can trace to Latin and through Latin to Greek, + came to us, not direct from Rome and Athens, but indirectly from Paris. + And native French words attain international acceptance almost as easily + as do scientific compounds from Greek and Latin. <i>Phonograph</i> and + <i>telephone</i> were not more swiftly taken up than <i>chassis</i> and <i>garage</i>. +</p> +<p> + But <i>chassis</i> and <i>garage</i> still retain their French pronunciation, or + perhaps it would be better to say they still receive a pronunciation + which is as close an approximation to that of the French as our + unpractised tongues can compass. And in thus taking over these French + words while striving to preserve their Frenchiness, we are neglectful + of our duty, we are imperilling the purity of our own language, and we + are deserting the wholesome tradition of English—the tradition which + empowered us to take at our convenience but to refashion what we had + taken to suit our own linguistic habits. +</p> +<p> + 'Speaking in general terms,' Mr. Pearsall Smith writes, in his outline + history of the English language, 'we may say that down to about 1650 the + French words that were borrowed were thoroughly naturalized in English, + and were made sooner or later to conform to the rules of English + pronunciation and accent; while in the later borrowings (unless they + have become very popular) an attempt is made to pronounce them in the + French fashion.' From Mr. Smith's pages it would be easy to select + examples of the complete assimilation which was attained centuries ago. + <i>Caitiff, canker</i>, and <i>carrion</i> came to us from the Norman dialect of + French; and from their present appearance no one but a linguistic expert + would suspect their exotic ancestry, <i>Jury, larceny, lease, embezzle, + distress,</i> and <i>improve</i> have descended from the jargon of the lawyers + who went on thinking in French after they were supposed to be speaking + and writing in English. Of equal historical significance are the two + series of words which English acquired from the military vocabulary + of the French,—the first containing <i>company, regiment, battalion, + brigade, division</i>, and <i>army</i>; and the second consisting of <i>marshal, + general, colonel, major, captain, lieutenant, sergeant</i>, and <i>corporal</i>. +</p> +<p> + (Here I claim the privilege of a parenthesis to remark that in Great + Britain <i>lieutenant</i> is generally pronounced <i>leftenant</i>, than which no + anglicization could be more complete, whereas in the United States this + officer is called the <i>lootenant</i>, which the privates of the American + Expeditionary Force in France habitually shortened to '<i>loot</i>'—except, + of course, when they were actually addressing this superior. It may be + useful to note, moreover, that while 'colonel' has chosen the spelling + of one French form, it has acquired the pronunciation of another.) +</p> +<p> + Dr. Henry Bradley in the <i>Making of English</i> provides further evidence + of the aforetime primacy of the French in the military art. '<i>War</i> + itself is a Norman-French word, and among the other French words + belonging to the same department which became English before the end of + the thirteenth century' are <i>armour, assault, banner, battle, fortress, + lance, siege, standard</i>, and <i>tower</i>—all of them made citizens of our + vocabulary, after having renounced their allegiance to their native + land. Another quotation from Dr. Bradley imposes itself. He tells us + that the English writers of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries felt + themselves at liberty to introduce a French word whenever they pleased. + 'The innumerable words brought into the language in this way are + naturally of the most varied character with regard to meaning. Many of + them, which supplied no permanent need of the language, have long been + obsolete.' +</p> +<p> + This second sentence may well give us heart of hope considering the + horde of French terms which invaded our tongue in the long years of the + Great War. If <i>camion</i> and <i>avion, vrille</i> and <i>escadrille</i> supply no + permanent need of the language they may soon become obsolete, just as + <i>mitrailleuse</i> and <i>franc-tireur</i> slipped out of sight soon after the + end of the Franco-Prussian war of fifty years ago. A French modification + of the American 'gatling' was by them called a <i>mitrailleuse</i>; + and nowadays we have settled down to the use of <i>machine-gun</i>. + A <i>franc-tireur</i> was an irregular volunteer often incompletely + uniformed; and when he was captured the Prussians shot him as a + guerrilla. It will be a welcome relief if <i>camouflage</i>, as popular five + years ago as <i>fin-de-siècle</i> twenty-five years ago, shall follow that + now unfashionable vocable into what an American president once described + as 'innocuous desuetude'. Perhaps we may liken <i>mitrailleuse</i> and + <i>franc-tireur, vrille</i> and <i>escadrille, brisance</i> and <i>rafale</i>, to the + foreign labourers who cross the frontier to aid in the harvest and who + return to their own country when the demand for their service is over. +</p> +<h3> + III +</h3> +<p> + The principle which ought to govern can be stated simply. English + should be at liberty to help itself freely to every foreign word which + seems to fill a want in our own language. It ought to take these words + on probation, so to speak, keeping those which prove themselves useful, + and casting out those which are idle or rebellious. And then those which + are retained ought to become completely English, in pronunciation, in + accent, in spelling, and in the formation of their plurals. No doubt + this is to-day a counsel of perfection; but it indicates the goal which + should be strived for. It is what English was capable of accomplishing + prior to the middle of the seventeenth century. It is what English may + be able to accomplish in the middle of the twentieth century, if we once + awaken to the danger of contaminating our speech with unassimilated + words, and to the disgrace, which our stupidity or laziness must bring + upon us, of addressing the world in a pudding-stone and piebald + language. Dr. Bradley has warned us that 'the pedantry that would bid + us reject the word fittest for our purpose because it is not of native + origin ought to be strenuously resisted'; and I am sure that he would + advocate an equally strenuous resistance to the pedantry which would + impose upon us words of alien tongue still clad in foreign uniform. +</p> +<p> + Mark Twain once remarked that 'everybody talks about the weather and + nobody does anything about it'. And many people think that we might as + well hope to direct the course of the winds as to order the evolution + of our speech. Some words have proved intractable. In the course of the + past two centuries and a half, scores and even hundreds of French words + have domiciled themselves in English without relinquishing their French + characteristics. Consider the sad case of <i>élite</i> (which Byron used a + hundred years ago), of <i>encore</i> (which Steele used two hundred years + ago) of <i>parvenu</i> (which Gifford used in 1802), of <i>ennui</i> (which + Evelyn used in 1667), and of <i>nuance</i> (which Walpole used in 1781). +</p> +<p> + No one hesitates to accept these words and to employ them frequently. + <i>Ennui</i> and <i>nuance</i> are two words which cannot well be spared, but + which we are unable to reproduce in our native vocalization. Their + French pronunciation is out of the question. What can be done? Can + anything be done? We may at least look the facts in the face and govern + our own individual conduct by the results of this scrutiny. There is no + reason why we should not accept what is a fact; and it is a fact that + <i>ennui</i> has been adopted. So long ago as 1805 Sidney Smith used it as a + verb and said that he had been <i>ennuied</i>. Why not therefore frankly and + boldly pronounce it as English—<i>ennwee</i>? Why not forswear French again + and pronounce <i>nuance</i> without trying vainly to preserve the Gallic + nasality of the second n—<i>newance</i>? And as for a third necessary word, + <i>timbre</i>. I can only register here my complete concurrence with the + opinion expressed in Tract No. 3 of the Society for Pure English—that + the 'English form of the French sound of the word would be approximately + <i>tamber</i>; and this would be not only a good English-sounding word, like + <i>amber</i> and <i>chamber</i>, but would be like our <i>tambour</i>, which is + <i>tympanum</i>, which again is <i>timbre</i>'. +</p> +<p> + Why should not <i>séance</i> (which was used by Charles Lamb in 1803) + drop its French accent and take an English pronunciation—<i>see-ance</i>? + Why should not <i>garage</i> and <i>barrage</i> rhyme easily with <i>marriage</i>? + <i>Marriage</i> itself came to us from the French; and it sets a good example + to these two latest importations. Logic would suggest this, of course; + but then logic does not always guide our linguistic practices. And here, + again, I am glad to accept another suggestion which I find in Tract No. + 3, that <i>naivety</i> be recognized and pronounced as an English word, and + that 'a useful word like <i>malaise</i> could with advantage reassume the + old form "malease" which it once possessed'. +</p> +<p> + I have asked why these thoroughly acclimated French words should not + be made to wear our English livery; and to this question Dr. Bradley + supplied an answer when he declared that 'culture is one of the + influences which retard the process of simplification'. A man of culture + is likely to be familiar with one or more foreign languages; and perhaps + he may be a little vain of his intimacy with them. He prefers to give + the proper French pronunciation to the words which he recognizes as + French; and moreover as the possession of culture, or even of education, + does not imply any knowledge of the history of English or of the + principles which govern its growth, the men of culture are often + inclined to pride themselves on this pedantic procedure. +</p> +<p> + It is, perhaps, because the men of culture in the United States are + fewer in proportion to the population that American usage is a little + more encouraging than the British. Just as we Americans have kept alive + not a few old words which have been allowed to drop out of the later + vocabulary of the United Kingdom, so we have kept alive—at least to a + certain extent—the power of complete assimilation. <i>Restaurant</i>, for + example, is generally pronounced as though its second syllable rhymed + with 'law', and its third with 'pant'. <i>Trait</i> is pronounced in + accordance with its English spelling, and therefore very few Americans + have ever discovered the pun in the title of Dr. Doran's book, 'Table + Traits, and something on them'. I think that most Americans rhyme + <i>distrait</i> to 'straight' and not to 'stray'. <i>Annexe</i> has become + <i>annex</i>; <i>programme</i> has become <i>program</i>—although the longer form + is still occasionally seen; and sometimes <i>coterie</i> and <i>reverie</i> are + 'cotery' and 'revery'—in accord with the principle which long ago + simplified <i>phantasie</i> to <i>fantasy</i>. <i>Charade</i> like <i>marmalade</i> rhymes + with <i>made</i>. <i>Brusk</i> seems to be supplanting <i>brusque</i> as <i>risky</i> is + supplanting <i>risqué</i>. <i>Elite</i> is spelt without the accent; and it is + frequently pronounced <i>ell-leet</i>. <i>Clôture</i> is rarely to be discovered + in American newspapers; <i>closure</i> is not uncommon; but the term commonly + employed is the purely English 'previous question'. +</p> +<p> + In the final quarter of the nineteenth century an American adaptation of + a French comic opera, 'La Mascotte', was for two or three seasons very + popular. The heroine of its story was believed to have the gift of + bringing luck. So it is that Americans now call any animal which has + been adopted by a racing crew or by an athletic team (or even by a + regiment) a <i>mascot</i>; and probably not one in ten thousand of those who + use the word have any knowledge of its French origin, or any suspicion + that it was transformed from the title of a musical play. +</p> +<p> + I regret, however, to be forced to confess that I have lately been + shocked by a piece of petty pedantry which seems to show that we + Americans are falling from grace—at least so far as one word is + concerned. Probably because many of our architects and decorators have + studied in Paris there is a pernicious tendency to call a 'grill' a + <i>grille</i>. And I have seen with my own eyes, painted on a door in an + hotel <i>grille</i>-room; surely the ultimate abomination of verbal + desolation! +</p> +<p> + I may, however, record to our credit one righteous act—the perfect + and satisfactory anglicizing of a Spanish word, whereby we have made + 'canyon' out of <i>cañon</i>. And I cannot forbear to adduce another word for + a fish soup, <i>chowder</i>, which the early settlers derived from the French + name of the pot in which it was cooked, <i>chaudière</i>.<a href="#note-1"><small>1</small></a> +</p> +<h3> + IV +</h3> +<p> + As the military vocabulary of English is testimony to the former + leadership of the French in the art of war, so the vocabulary of fashion + and of gastronomy is evidence of the cosmopolitan primacy of French + millinery and French cookery. But most of the military terms were + absorbed before the middle of the seventeenth century and were therefore + assimilated, whereas the terms of the French dressmaker and of the + French cook, chef, or <i>cordon bleu</i>, are being for ever multiplied in + France and are very rarely being naturalized in English-speaking lands. + So far as these two sets of words are concerned the case is probably + hopeless, because, if for no other reason, they are more or less in the + domain of the gentler sex and we all know that +</p> +<pre> + 'A woman, convinced against her will, + Is of the same opinion still.' +</pre> +<p> + The terms of the motor-car, however, and those of the airplane, are in + the control of men; and there may be still a chance of bringing about a + better state of affairs than now exists. While the war correspondents + were actually in France, and while they were often forced to write at + topmost speed, there was excuse for <i>avion</i> and <i>camion, vrille</i> and + <i>escadrille</i>, and all the other French words which bespattered the + columns of British and American, Canadian and Australian newspapers. + I doubt if there was ever any necessity for <i>hangar</i>, the shed which + sheltered the airplane or the airship. <i>Hangar</i> is simply the French + word for 'shed', no more and no less; it does not indicate specifically + a shed for a flying-machine; and as we already had 'shed' we need not + take over <i>hangar</i>. +</p> +<p> + When we turn from the gas-engine on wings to the gas-engine on wheels, + we find a heterogeny of words in use which bear witness to the fact that + the French were the first to develop the motor-car, and also to the + earlier fact that they had long been renowned for their taste and their + skill as coach-builders. As the terminology of the railway in England + is derived in part from that of the earlier stage-coach—in the United + States, I may interject, it was derived in part from that of the earlier + river-steamboat—so the terminology of the motor-car in France was + derived in part from that of the pleasure-carriage. So we have the + <i>landaulet</i> and <i>limousine</i> to designate different types of body. + I think <i>landaulet</i> had already acquired an English pronunciation; at + least I infer this because I cannot now recall that I ever heard it fall + from the lips of an English-speaking person with its original French + pronunciation of the nasal <i>n</i>. And <i>limousine</i>, being without accent + and without nasal <i>n</i> can be trusted to take care of itself. +</p> +<p> + There are other technical terms of the motor-car industry which present + more difficult problems. <i>Tonneau</i> is not troublesome, even if its + spelling is awkward. There is <i>chauffeur</i> first of all; and I wish that + it might generally acquire the local pronunciation it is said to have in + Norfolk—<i>shover</i>. Then there is <i>chassis</i>. Is this the exact equivalent + of 'running gear'? Is there any available substitute for the French + word? And if <i>chassis</i> is to impose itself from sheer necessity what + is to be done with it? Our forefathers boldly cut down <i>chaise</i> to + 'shay'—at least my forefathers did it in New England, long before + Oliver Wendell Holmes commemorated their victory over the alien in the + 'Deacon's Masterpiece', more popularly known as the 'One Horse Shay'. + And the men of old were even bolder when they curtailed <i>cabriolet</i> to + 'cab', just as their children have more recently and with equal courage + shortened 'taximeter vehicle' to 'taxi', and 'automobile' itself to + 'auto'. Unfortunately it is not possible to cut the tail off <i>chassis</i>, + or even to cut the head off, as the men of old did with 'wig', + originally 'periwig', which was itself only a daring and summary + anglicization of <i>peruke</i>. +</p> +<p> + Due to the fact that the drama has been more continuously alive in the + literature of France than in that of any other country, and due also, + it may be, to the associated fact that the French have been more loyally + devoted to the theatre than any other people, the vocabulary of the + English-speaking stage has probably more unassimilated French words than + we can discover in the vocabulary of any of our other activities. We are + none of us surprised when we find in our newspaper criticisms <i>artiste, + ballet, conservatoire, comédienne, costumier, danseuse, début, + dénoûment, diseuse, encore, ingénue, mise-en-scène, perruquier, + pianiste, première, répertoire, revue, rôle, tragédienne</i>—the catalogue + stretches out to the crack of doom. +</p> +<p> + Long as the list is, the words on it demand discussion. As to <i>rôle</i> I + need say nothing since it has been considered carefully in Tract No. 3; + I may merely mention that it appeared in English at least as early as + 1606, so that it has had three centuries to make itself at home in our + tongue. <i>Conservatoire</i> and <i>répertoire</i> have seemingly driven out the + English words, which were long ago made out of them, 'conservatory' + and 'repertory'. What is the accepted pronunciation of <i>ballet</i>? Is it + <i>bal-lett</i> or <i>ballay</i> or <i>bally</i>? (If it is <i>bally</i>, it has a recently + invented cockney homophone.) For <i>costumier</i> and <i>perruquier</i> I can see + no excuse whatever; although I have observed them frequently on London + play-bills, I am delighted to be able to say that they do not disgrace + the New York programmes, which mention the 'costumer' and the + 'wigmaker'. 'Encore' was used by Steele in 1712; it was early made into + an English verb; and yet I have heard the verb pronounced with the nasal + <i>n</i> of the original French. Here is another instance of English taking + over a French word and giving it a meaning not acceptable in Paris, + where the playgoers do not <i>encore</i>, they <i>bis</i>. +</p> +<p> + Why should we call a nondescript medley of dialogue and dance and + song a <i>revue</i>, when <i>revue</i> in French is the exact equivalent of + 'review' in English? Why should we call an actress of comic characters + a <i>comédienne</i> and an actress of tragic characters a <i>tragédienne</i>, + when we do not call a comic actor a <i>comédien</i> or a tragic actor a + <i>tragédien</i>? Possibly it is because 'comedian' and 'tragedian' seem + to be too exclusively masculine—so that a want is felt for words to + indicate a female tragedian and a female comedian. Probably it is for + the same reason that a male dancer is not termed a <i>danseur</i> while + a female dancer is termed a <i>danseuse</i>. Then there is <i>diseuse</i>, + apparently reserved for the lady who recites verse, no name being + needed apparently for the gentleman who recites verse—at least, I am + reasonably certain that I have never seen <i>diseur</i> applied to any male + reciter. +</p> +<p> + <i>Mise-en-scène</i> is another of the French terms which has suffered a + Channel-change. In Paris it means the arrangement of the stage-business, + whereas in London and in New York it is employed rather to indicate the + elaboration of the scenery and of the spectacular accessories. An even + more extraordinary misadventure has befallen <i>pianiste</i>, in that it is + sometimes used as if it was to be applied only to a female performer. + And this blunder is of long standing; but I remember as lately as forty + years ago seeing an American advertisement of Teresa Carreño which + proclaimed her to be 'the greatest living <i>lady</i> pianiste'. I have + also detected evidences of a startling belief of the illiterate that + <i>artiste</i> is the feminine of 'artist'. Nevertheless I found recently in + a volume caricaturing the chief performers of the London music-halls a + foot-note which explained that these celebrities were therein entitled + <i>artistes</i>—because 'an artist creates, an <i>artiste</i> performs'. +</p> +<p> + Still to be analysed are <i>première</i> for 'first performance' or 'opening + night' and <i>debut</i> for 'first appearance'; and I fear that it is beyond + expectation that these alien words will speedily drop their alien + accents and their alien pronunciations. The same must be said also of + <i>dénoûment</i> and of <i>ingénue</i>—French words which really fill a gap in + our vocabulary and which are none the less abhorrent to our speech + habits. The most that is likely to happen is that they may shed their + accents and more or less approximate an English pronunciation, + <i>dee-noo-meant</i>, perhaps, and <i>inn-je-new</i>, an approximation which will + be sternly resisted by the literate. I well remember one occasion when I + overheard scorn poured upon a charming American actress who had happened + to mention the date of her own <i>deb-you</i> in New York. +</p> +<h3> + V +</h3> +<p> + <i>Encore</i> and <i>mise-en-scène</i> are only two of a dozen or a score of + French words not infrequently used in English and misused by being + charged with meanings not strictly in accord with French usage. 'Levee' + is one; the French say <i>lever</i>. <i>Nom de plume</i> is another; the French + say <i>nom de guerre</i>. <i>Musicale</i> also is rarely, if ever, to be found + in French, at least I believe it to be the custom in Paris to call + an 'evening with music' a <i>soirée musicale</i>. If <i>musicale</i> is too + serviceable to demand banishment, why should it not drop the <i>e</i> and + become <i>musical</i>? When Theodore Roosevelt, always as exact as he was + vigorous in his use of language, was President of the United States, the + cards of invitation which went out from the White House bore 'musical' + in one of their lower corners; so that the word, if not the King's + English, is the President's English. +</p> +<p> + To offset this I must record with regret that the late Clyde Fitch once + wrote a one-act play about a manicurist, and as this operator on the + finger-nails was a woman he entitled his playlet, the <i>Manicuriste</i>; and + he did this in spite of the fact that, as a writer fairly familiar with + French, he ought to have known the proper term—<i>manucure</i>. +</p> +<p> + Then there is <i>double-entendre</i>, implying a secondary meaning of + doubtful delicacy. Dryden used it in 1673, when it was apparently + good French, although it has latterly been superseded in France by + <i>double-entente</i>—which has not, however, the somewhat sinister + suggestion we attach to <i>double-entendre</i>. I noted it in Trench's + 'Calderon' (in the 1880 reprint); and also in Thackeray; and both + Calderon and Thackeray were competent French scholars. +</p> +<p> + Perhaps this is as good a place as any to consider <i>née</i>, put after the + name of a married woman and before the family name of her father. The + Germans have a corresponding usage, Frau Schmidt, <i>geboren</i> Braun. There + is no doubt that <i>née</i> is convenient, and there is little doubt that + it would be difficult to persuade the men of culture to surrender it + or even to translate it. To the literate 'Mrs. Smith, born Brown', + might seem discourteously abrupt. But the French word is awkward, + nevertheless, since the illiterate often take it as meaning only + 'formerly', writing 'Mrs. Smith, <i>née</i> Mary Brown', which implies that + this lady had been christened before she was born. And there is a tale + of a profiteer's wife who wrote herself down as 'Mrs. John Smith, New + York, <i>née</i> Chicago'. +</p> +<p> + Yet the French themselves are not always scrupulous to follow <i>née</i> with + only the family name of the lady. No less a scholar than Gaston Paris + dedicated his <i>Poètes et Penseurs</i> to 'Madame James Darmesteter, <i>née</i> + Mary Robinson'. Perhaps this is an instance of the modification of the + strict meaning of a word by convention because of its enlarged + usefulness when so modified. +</p> +<p> + Gaston Paris must be allowed all the rights and privileges of a master + of language; but his is a dangerous example for the unscholarly, who are + congenitally careless and who are responsible for <i>soubriquet</i> instead + of <i>sobriquet</i>, for <i>à l'outrance</i> instead of <i>à outrance</i>, and for <i>en + déshabille</i> instead of <i>en déshabillé</i>. The late Mrs. Oliphant in her + little book on Sheridan credited him with <i>gaieté du coeur</i>. It was + long an American habit to term a railway station a <i>dépot</i> (totally + anglicized in its pronunciation—<i>deep-oh)</i>; but <i>dépôt</i> is in French + the name for a storehouse, and it is not—or not customarily—the name + of a railway station. It was also a custom in American theatres to give + the name of <i>parquette</i>-seats to the chairs which are known in England + as 'stalls'; and in village theatres <i>parquette</i> was generally + pronounced 'par-kay'. +</p> +<p> + There are probably as many in Great Britain as in the United States + who speak the French which is not spoken by the French themselves. + Affectation and pretentiousness and the desire to show off are abundant + in all countries. They manifest themselves even in Paris, where I once + discovered on a bill of fare at the Grand Hotel <i>Irisch-stew à la + française</i>. This may be companioned by a bill of fare on a Cunard + steamer plying between Liverpool and New York, whereon I found myself + authorized to order <i>tartletes</i> and <i>cutletes</i>. When I called the + attention of a neighbour to these outlandish vocables, the affable + steward bent forward to enlighten my ignorance. 'It's the French, + sir,' he explained; '<i>tartlete</i> and <i>cutlete</i> is French.' +</p> +<p> + That way danger lies; and when we are speaking or writing to those who + have English as their mother-tongue there are obvious advantages in + speaking and writing English, with no vain effort to capture Gallic + graces. Readers of Mark Twain's <i>Tramp Abroad</i> will recall the scathing + rebuke which the author administered to his agent, Harris, because a + report which Harris had submitted was peppered, not only with French and + German words, but also with savage plunder from Choctaw and Feejee and + Eskimo. Harris explained that he intruded these hostile verbs and nouns + to adorn his page, and justified himself by saying that 'they all do + it. Everybody that writes elegantly'. Whereupon Mark Twain, whose own + English was as pure as it was rich and flexible, promptly read Harris a + needed lesson: 'A man who writes a book for the general public to read + is not justified in disfiguring his pages with untranslated foreign + expressions. It is an insolence toward the majority of the purchasers, + for it is a very frank and impudent way of saying, "Get the translations + made yourselves if you want it—this book is not written for the + ignorant classes".... The writer would say that he uses the foreign + language where the delicacy of his point cannot be conveyed in English. + Very well, then, he writes his best things for the tenth man, and he + ought to warn the other nine not to buy his book.' +</p> +<p> + The result of these straight-forward and out-spoken remarks is set + forth by Mark Twain himself: 'When the musing spider steps upon the + red-hot shovel, he first exhibits a wild surprise, then he shrivels + up. Similar was the effect of these blistering words upon the tranquil + and unsuspecting agent. I can be dreadfully rough on a person when the + mood takes me.' +</p> +<h3> + VI +</h3> +<p> + This sermon might have been made even broader in its application. It is + not always only the ignorant who are discommoded by a misguided reliance + on foreign words as bestowers of elegance; it is often the man of + culture, aware of the meaning of the alien vocable but none the less + jarred by its obtrusion on an English page. The man of culture may have + his attention disturbed even by a foreign word which has long been + acclimatized in English, if it still retains its unfriendly appearance. + I suppose that <i>savan</i> has established its citizenship in our + vocabulary; it is, at least, domiciled in our dictionaries<a href="#note-2"><small>2</small></a>; but when + I found it repeated by Frederic Myers, in <i>Science and a Future Life</i>, + to avoid the use of 'scientist', the French word forced itself on me, + and I found myself reviving a boyish memory of a passage in Abbott's + <i>Life of Napoleon</i> dealing with Bonaparte's expedition to Egypt and + narrating the attacks of the Mamelukes, when the order was given to + form squares with '<i>savans</i> and asses in the center'. +</p> +<p> + An otherwise fine passage of Ruskin's has always been spoilt for me by + the wilful incursion of two French words, which seem to me to break the + continuity of the sentence: 'A well-educated gentleman may not know many + languages; may not be able to speak any but his own; may have read very + few books. But whatever language he knows, he knows precisely; whatever + word he pronounces, he pronounces rightly; above all, he is learned in + the peerage of words; knows the words of true descent and ancient blood + at a glance from words of modern <i>canaille</i>; remembers all their + ancestry, their intermarriages, distantest relationships, and the extent + to which they were admitted, and offices they hold, among the national + <i>noblesse</i> of words, at any time and in any country.' Are not <i>canaille</i> + and <i>noblesse</i> distracting? Do they not interrupt the flow? Do they not + violate what Herbert Spencer aptly called the Principle of Economy of + Attention, which he found to be the basis of all the rules of rhetoric? +</p> +<p> + Since I have made one quotation from Ruskin, I am emboldened to make two + from Spencer, well known as his essay on 'Style' ought to be:—'A reader + or listener has at each moment but a limited amount of mental power + available. To recognize and interpret the symbols presented to him, + requires part of his power; to arrange and combine the images suggested + requires a further part; and only that part which remains can be used + for realizing the thought conveyed. Hence, the more time and attention + it takes to receive and understand each sentence, the less time and + attention can be given to the contained idea; and the less vividly will + that idea be conceived.'—'Carrying out the metaphor that language is + the vehicle of thought, there seems reason to think that in all cases + the friction and inertia of the vehicle deduct from its efficiency; and + that in composition, the chief, if not the sole thing to be done, is to + reduce this friction and inertia to the smallest possible amount.' +</p> +<p> + <i>Savan</i> and <i>canaille</i> and <i>noblesse</i> may be English words; but they + have not that appearance. They have not rooted themselves in English + earth as <i>war</i> has, for instance, and <i>cab</i> and <i>wig</i>. To me, for one, + they increase the friction and the inertia; and yet, of course, the + words themselves are not strange to me; they seem to me merely out of + place and in the way. I can easily understand why Myers and Ruskin + wanted them, even needed them. It was because they carried a meaning not + easily borne by more obvious and more hackneyed nouns. 'The words of our + mother tongue', said Lowell in his presidential address to the Modern + Language Association of America, 'have been worn smooth by so often + rubbing against our lips and our minds, while the alien word has all the + subtle emphasis and beauty of some new-minted coin of ancient Syracuse. + In our critical estimates we should be on our guard against its charm.' +</p> +<p> + Since I have summoned myself as a witness I take the stand once more to + confess that Alan Seeger's lofty lyric, 'I have a rendezvous with Death' + has a diminished appeal because of the foreign connotations of + 'rendezvous'. The French noun was adopted into English more than three + centuries ago; and it was used as a verb nearly three centuries ago; it + does not interfere with the current of sympathy when I find it in the + prose of Scott and of Mark Twain. Nevertheless, it appears to me + unfortunate in Seeger's noble poem, where it forces me to taste its + foreign flavour. +</p> +<p> + Another French word, <i>bouquet</i>, is indisputably English; and yet when I + find it in Walt Whitman's heartfelt lament for Lincoln, 'O Captain, my + Captain', I cannot but feel it to be a blemish:— +</p> +<pre> + 'For you <i>bouquets</i> and ribbon'd wreaths—for you the shore's a-crowding, + For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning.' +</pre> +<p> + It may be hypercriticism on my part, but <i>bouquet</i> strikes me as sadly + infelicitous; and a large part of its infelicity is due to its having + kept its French spelling and its French pronunciation. It is not in + keeping; it diverts the flow of feeling; it is almost indecorous—much + as a quotation from Voltaire in the original might be indecorous in a + funeral address delivered by an Anglican bishop in a cathedral. +</p> +<h3> + VII +</h3> +<p> + There are several questions which writers and speakers who give thought + to their expressions will do well to ask themselves when they are + tempted to employ a French word or indeed a word from any alien tongue. + The first is the simplest: Is the foreign word really needed? For + example, there is no benefit in borrowing <i>impasse</i> when there exists + already in English its exact equivalent, 'blind-alley', which carries + the meaning more effectively even to the small percentage of readers or + listeners who are familiar with French. Nor is there any gain in + <i>résumé</i> when 'summary' and 'synopsis' and 'abstract' are all available. +</p> +<p> + The second question is perhaps not quite so simple: Is the French word + one which English has already accepted and made its own? We do not + really need <i>questionnaire</i>, since we have 'interrogatory', but if we + want it we can make shift with 'questionary'; and for <i>concessionnaire</i> + we can put 'concessionary'. To balance 'employer' there is 'employee', + better by far than <i>employé</i>, which insists on a French pronunciation. + Matthew Arnold and Lowell, always apt and exact in their use of their + own tongue, were careful to prefer the English 'technic' to the French + <i>technique</i>, which is not in harmony with the adjectives 'technical' and + <i>polytechnic</i>. So 'clinic' seems at last to have vanquished its French + father <i>clinique</i>, as 'fillet' has superseded <i>filet</i>; and now that + 'valet' has become a verb it has taken on an English pronunciation. +</p> +<p> + Then there is <i>littérateur</i>. If a synonym for 'man of letters' is + demanded why not find it in 'literator', which Lockhart did not + hesitate to employ in the <i>Life of Scott</i>. It is pleasant to believe + that <i>communard</i>, which was prevalent fifty years ago after the burning + of the Tuileries, has been succeeded by 'communist' and that its + twin-brother <i>dynamitard</i> is now rarely seen and even more rarely heard. + Perhaps some of the credit may be due to Stevenson, who entitled his + tale the <i>Dynamiter</i> and appended a foot-note declaring that 'any + writard who writes <i>dynamitard</i> shall find in me a never-resting + fightard'. +</p> +<p> + The third question may call for a little more consideration: Has the + foreign word been employed so often that it has ceased to be foreign + even though it has not been satisfactorily anglicized in spelling and + pronunciation? In the <i>Jungle Book</i> Mr. Kipling introduces an official + who is in charge of the 'reboisement' of India; and in view of the + author's scrupulosity in dealing with professional vocabularies we may + assume that this word is a recognized technical term, equivalent to the + older word 'afforestation'. What is at once noteworthy and praiseworthy + is that in Mr. Kipling's page it does not appear in italics. And in + Mr. Pearsall Smith's book on the English language one admiring reader + was pleased to find 'débris' also without italics, although with the + retention of the French accent. Perhaps the time is not far distant + when the best writers will cease to stigmatize a captured word with + the italics which are a badge of servitude and which proclaim that it + has not yet been enfranchised into our language. +</p> +<p> + The fourth question is the most perplexing: If the formerly foreign + word has been taken over and if it can therefore be utilized without + hesitancy, can it be made to form its plural in accord with the customs + of English. Here those who seek to make the English language truly + English and to keep it truly pure, will meet with sturdy resistance. + It will not be easy to persuade the literate, the men of culture, to + renounce the <i>x</i> at the end of <i>beaux</i> and <i>bureaux</i> and to spell these + plurals 'beaus' and 'bureaus'. And yet no one doubts that 'beau' and + 'bureau' have both won the right to be regarded as having attained an + honourable standing in our language. +</p> +<h3> + VIII +</h3> +<p> + 'De Quincey once said that authors are a dangerous class for any + language'—so Professor Krapp has reminded us in his book on <i>Modern + English</i>, and he has explained that De Quincey meant 'that the literary + habit of mind is likely to prove dangerous for a language ... because it + so often leads a speaker or writer to distrust natural and unconscious + habit, even when it is right, and to put in its stead some conscious + theory of literary propriety. Such a tendency, however, is directly + opposed to the true feeling for idiomatic English. It destroys the sense + of security, the assurance of perfect congruity between thought and + expression, which the unliterary and unacademic speaker and writer often + has, and which, with both literary and unliterary, is the basis for all + expressive use of language'. +</p> +<p> + And since I have borrowed the quotation from Professor Krapp I shall + bring this rambling paper to an end by borrowing another, from the + <i>Toxophilus</i> of Roger Ascham (1545). +</p> +<p> + 'He that will wryte well in any tongue must folowe this council of + Aristotle, to speake as the common people do, to think as wise men do. + Many English writers have not done so, but using straunge wordes as + latin, french, and Italian, do make all things darke and harde. Once I + communed with a man whiche reasoned the englyshe tongue to be enryched + and encreased thereby, sayinge—Who wyll not prayse that feaste where a + man shall drinke at a diner bothe wyne, ale and beere? Truly, quod I + they all be good, every one taken by hym selfe alone, but if you put + Malmesye and sacke, read wine and whyte, ale and beere, and al in one + pot, you shall make a drynke neyther easie to be knowen nor yet holsom + for the body.' +</p> +<p> + BRANDER MATTHEWS. +</p> +<a name="2H_NOTE"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + +<div style="height: 4em;"><br><br><br><br></div> + +<h2> + NOTES +</h2> +<p> + The word <b>laches</b>, which is not noticed in the above paper, is one + of a list of words sent to us by a correspondent who suggests that + it is the business of our society to direct the public as to their + pronunciation. Like other examples given by Mr. Matthews, <i>laches</i> seems + to be at present in an uncertain condition; and as it is used only by + lawyers they will be able to decide its future. What seems clear about + it is that the two contending pronunciations are homophones, one with + <i>latches</i> the other with <i>lashes</i>. The A having been Englished its + closing T seems natural; and <i>latches</i> (from <i>lachesse</i>) is thus an + exact parallel with <i>riches</i> (from <i>richesse</i>). But there seems no + propriety in the SS being changed to Z. The pronunciation <i>látchess</i> + would save it from its awkward and absurd homophone <i>latches</i>, and would + be in order with <i>prowess, largess, noblesse</i>, &c. Moreover, since + <i>laches</i> is used only as the name of a quality (= negligence) and never + (like <i>riches</i>), as a plural, to connote special acts of negligence, the + pronunciation <i>latchess</i> would be correct as well as convenient; and the + word would be better spelt with double S: <i>lachess</i>. +</p> +<p> + Of the word <b>levee</b> the <i>O.E.D.</i> says, 'All our verse quotations + place the stress on the first syllable. In England this is the court + pronunciation, and prevails in educated use. The pronunciation' with the + accent on the second syllable 'which is given by Walker, is occasionally + heard in Great Britain, and appears to be generally preferred in the + U.S.', but the dictionary does not quote Burns +</p> +<pre> + 'Guid-mornin' to your Majesty! + May Heav'n augment your blisses, + On ev'ry new birthday ye see, + A humble poet wishes! + My bardship here, at your levee, + On sic a day as this is, + Is sure an uncouth sight to see, + Amang thae birthday dresses + Sae fine this day.' +</pre> +<p> + So that it would seem that the Scotch and American pronunciation of this + word is more thoroughly Englished than our own: and the prejudice which + opposes straightforward common-sense solutions, however desirable they + may be, is brought home to us by the fact that almost all Englishmen + would be equally shocked by the notion either of spelling this word as + they pronounce it, <i>levay</i>, or of pronouncing it, like Burns, as they + spell it, <i>levee</i>. +</p> +<a name="2H_4_0003"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + +<div style="height: 4em;"><br><br><br><br></div> + +<h2> + ENGLISH WORDS IN FRENCH +</h2> +<p> + It would be instructive if we could give a parallel account of what the + French do when they adopt an English word into their language. <i>Le + Dictionnaire des Anglicismes</i>, lately published by Delagrave, has two + hundred pages, and is much praised by a reviewer in the <i>Mercure de + France</i>, Feb. 15, p. 246: but it does not give the current French + pronunciations of the English words. The reviewer writes: 'Ce qui me + gène bien davantage, c'est que M. Bonnaffé supprime, partout, avec + rigueur, la façon française de prononcer le mot anglais. Était-il + superflu de dire comment nous articulons <i>shampooing</i>? Nous n'avons, je + crois, qu'une forme orale pour <i>boy</i>, petit domestique, parce qu'il est + dû à l'oreille; mais nous sommes partagés quant à <i>boy-scout</i>, qui est + arrivé par tracts et par journaux. L'anglais donne un mot <i>high-life</i>, + le français en fait cinq: <i>haylayf, aïlaïf, ichlif, ijlif, iglif</i>.' + p. 247. It would seem from <i>high-life</i> that English words in French + sometimes look as strange as French words do when represented in + make-shift English phonetics. On p. 228 of the same <i>Mercure</i> there is + notice of 'un petit manuel de conversation' in which 'Toutes les nuances + de la "phonetic pronunciation" sont notées, à l'usage des Américains + désireux de se faire comprendre en français. Cette notation (says the + reviewer) m'a tellement amusé que je ne puis résister au plaisir + d'en citer quelques exemples: Av-nü' day Shawn Zay-lee-zay', + Plass de la Kown-kord' to Plass der lay-twal. Fown-ten day + Zeen-noh-sawn,—Oh-pay-râ Kum-meek,—Foh-lee Bair-zhair,—Bool-vâr + day Kâ-pu-seen,—Beeb-lee-oh-tech Sant Zhun-vee-ayv',—Lay + Zan-vâ-leed,—May-zown' der Veck-tor' U-goh',—Hub-bay-leesk',—Rü + San Tawn-twan, &c., &c....' There would seem to be errors in this + 'citation'. Vecktor should be Veektor? and H looks like a misprint + for L in Hub-bay-leesk. -tech was probably -teck. Bonnaffé's book + is noticed in <i>The Modern Language Review</i> of last January. +</p> +<a name="2H_4_0004"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + +<div style="height: 4em;"><br><br><br><br></div> + +<h2> + ON THE DIALECTAL WORDS IN EDMUND BLUNDEN'S POEMS<a href="#note-3"><small>3</small></a> +</h2> +<p> + In the original prospectus of the S.P.E., reprinted in Tract I, and + again in III, p. 9, one of the objects of the Society is stated to be + the 'enrichment and what is called regeneration of the language from the + picturesque vocabularies of local vernaculars'. Since a young poet, Mr. + Edmund Blunden, has lately published a volume in which this particular + element of dialectal and obsolescent words is very prominent, it will be + suitable to our general purpose to consider it as a practical experiment + and examine the results. The poetic diction and high standard of his + best work give sufficient importance to this procedure; and though he + may seem to be somewhat extravagant in his predilection for unusual + terms, yet his poetry cannot be imagined without them, and the strength + and beauty of the effects must be estimated in his successes and not in + his failures. +</p> +<p> + In the following remarks no appreciation of the poetry will be + attempted: our undertaking is merely to tabulate the 'new' words, + and examine their fitness for their employment. The bracketed numbers + following the quotations give the page of the book where they occur. + The initials <i>O.E.D.</i> and <i>E.D.D.</i> stand for the <i>Oxford English + Dictionary</i> and the <i>English Dialect Dictionary</i> (Wright). +</p> +<pre> + 1. 'And churning owls and goistering daws'. (1) +</pre> +<p> + Here <i>churning</i> is a mistake; we are sorry to begin with an + animadversion, but the word should be <i>churring</i>. <b>Churr</b> is an + echo-word, and though there may be examples of echo-words which have + been bettered by losing all trace of their simple spontaneous origin, + this is not one. It is like <i>burr, purr,</i> and <i>whirr</i>; and these words + are best spelt with double R and the R should be trilled. The absurdity + of not trilling this final R is seen very plainly in <i>burr</i>, because + that word's definition is 'a rough sounding of the letter R.' This is + not represented by the pronunciation bə:. What that 'southern + English' pronunciation does indicate is the vulgarity and inconvenience + of its degradations. <i>Burr</i> occurs in these poems: +</p> +<pre> + 'There the live dimness burrs with droning glees'. (23) +</pre> +<p> + <b>Burr</b> is, moreover, a bad homophone and cannot neglect possible + distinctions: the Oxford Dictionary has eight entries of substantives + under <i>burr.</i> +</p> +<p> + Our author also uses <i>whirr</i>: +</p> +<pre> + 'And the bleak garrets' crevices + Like whirring distaffs utter dread', (26) +</pre> +<p> + and again of the noise of wind in ivy, on p. 54, and +</p> +<pre> + 'The damp gust makes the ivy whir', (48) +</pre> +<p> + <i>whir</i> rhyming here with <i>executioner</i>. +</p> +<p> + Since <i>churring</i> (in the first quotation) would automatically preserve + its essential trill, the intruder <i>churning</i> is the more obnoxious; and + unless the R can be trilled it would seem better for poets to use only + the inflected forms of these words, and prefer <i>churreth</i> to <i>churrs</i>. +</p> +<p> + If <i>churn</i> is anywhere dialectal for <i>churr</i>, it must have come from the + common mistake of substituting a familiar for an unknown word: and this + is the worst way of making homophones. +</p> +<pre> + 2. 'goistering daws'. +</pre> +<p> + <b>Goister</b> or <b>gauster</b> is a common dialect verb; the latter + form seems the more common and is recognized in the Oxford Dictionary, + where it is defined 'to behave in a noisy boisterous fashion ... in some + localities to laugh noisily'. If jackdaws are to appropriate a word to + describe their behaviour, no word could be better than <i>goistering</i>, and + we prefer <i>goister</i> to <i>gauster</i>. Its likeness to <i>boisterous</i> will + assist it, and we guess that it will be accepted. In the little glossary + at the end of the book <i>goistering</i> is explained as <i>guffawing</i>. That + word is not so descriptive of the jackdaw, since it suggests 'coarse + bursts of laughter', and the coarseness is absent from the fussy + vulgarity and mere needless jabber of the daw. +</p> +<pre> + 3. 'A dor flew by with crackling cry'. (7) +</pre> +<p> + This to the ear is +</p> +<pre> + 'A daw flew by with crackling cry'; +</pre> +<p> + and though our poet's glossary tells us that dor = dor-hawk or nightjar, + it really is not so. A dor is a beetle so called from its making a + <i>dorring</i> noise, and the name, like <i>churr</i> and <i>burr</i>, is better with + its double R and trill. <i>Dor-hawk</i> may be a name for the <i>nightjar</i>, but + properly <i>dorr</i> is not; and if it were, it would be forbidden by <i>daw</i> + so long as it neglected its trill. Note also the misfortune that four + lines below we read +</p> +<pre> + 'The pigeons flaunted round his door', +</pre> +<p> + where the full correct pronunciation of <i>door</i> (d[ɔə) will + not quite protect it. The whole line quoted from + p. 7 is obscure, because a nightjar would never be recognized by the + description of a bird that utters a crackling cry when flying. That + it then makes a sound different from its distinctive whirring note is + recorded. T.A. Coward writes 'when on the wing it has a soft call co-ic, + and a sharper and repeated alarm quik, quik, quik.' It is doubtful + whether <i>crackling</i> can be accepted. +</p> +<pre> + 4. 'The grumping miller picked his way'. (8) +</pre> +<p> + <b>Grumping</b> is a good word, which appears from the dictionaries to + be a common-speech term that is picking its way into literature. +</p> +<pre> + 5. 'The golden nobs and pippens swell'. (12) +</pre> +<p> + <b>nob</b> is <i>knob</i>. Golden-nob is 'a variety of apple'; see <i>E.D.D.</i>: + and as a special name, which the passage implies, it should be hyphened. +</p> +<pre> + 6. 'where the pollards frown, + Notched, dumb, surly images of pain'. (13) +</pre> +<p> + <b>Notched.</b> This word well describes the appearance of old pollard + willows after they have been cropped; but its full propriety may escape + notice. A very early use of the verb <i>to notch</i> was to cut or crop the + hair roughly, and <i>notched</i> was so used. The Oxford Dictionary quotes + Lamb, 'a notched and cropt scrivener'. Then <i>pollard</i> itself is from + <i>poll</i>, and means an animal that has lost its horns as well as a tree + that has been 'pollarded'. +</p> +<pre> + 7. 'In elver-peopled crevices'. (19) +</pre> +<p> + We are grateful for <b>elver</b>. This form has carefully differentiated + itself from <i>eel-fare</i>, which means the passage of the young eels up the + rivers, and has come to mean the <i>eel-fry</i> themselves. +</p> +<pre> + 8. 'For Sussex cries from primrose lags and breaks'. (22) +</pre> +<p> + <i>E.D.D.</i>, among many meanings of <b>lag</b>, explains this as a Sussex + and Somerset term for 'a long marshy meadow usually by the side of a + stream'. Since the word seems as if it might be used for anything + somewhere, we cannot question its title to these meadows, but we doubt + its power to retain possession, except in some favoured locality. +</p> +<pre> + 9. 'And chancing lights on willowy waterbreaks'. (22) +</pre> +<p> + We have to guess what a <i>waterbreak</i> is, having found no other example + of the word. +</p> +<pre> + 10. 'Of hobby-horses with their starting eyes'. (23) +</pre> +<p> + <b>Hobby-horse</b> as a local or rustic name for dragon-fly can have no + right to general acceptance. +</p> +<pre> + 11. 'Stolchy ploughlands hid in grief.' (24) +</pre> +<p> + <b>Stolchy</b> is so good a word that it does not need a dictionary. + Wright gives only the verb <i>stolch</i> 'to tread down, trample, to walk in + the dirt'. The adjective is therefore primarily applicable to wet land + that has become sodden and miry by being <i>poached</i> by cattle, and then + to any ground in a similar condition. Since <i>poach</i> is a somewhat + confused homophone, its adjective <i>poachy</i> has no chance against + <i>stolchy</i>. +</p> +<pre> + 12. 'I whirry through the dark'. (24) +</pre> +<p> + <b>Whirry</b> is another word that explains itself, and perhaps the more + readily for its confusion (in this sense) with <i>worry</i>, see <i>E.D.D.</i> + where it is given as adjective and verb, the latter used by Scott in + 'Midlothian'. 'Her and the gude-man will be whirrying through the + blue lift on a broom-shank.' In the <i>Century Dictionary</i>, with its + pronunciation hwér'i, it is described as dialectal form of <i>whirr</i> or + of <i>hurry</i>, to fly rapidly with noise, also transitive to hurry. +</p> +<pre> + 13. 'No hedger brished nor scythesman swung'. (25) +</pre> +<p> + and +</p> +<pre> + 'The morning hedger with his brishing-hook'. (62) +</pre> +<p> + These two lines explain the word <b>brish</b>. <i>O.E.D.</i> gives <i>brish</i> as + dialectal of <i>brush</i>, and so <i>E.D.D.</i> has the verb <i>to brush</i> as dialect + for trimming a tree or hedge. Brush is a difficult homophone, and it + would be useful to have one of its derivative meanings separated off + as <i>brish</i>. +</p> +<pre> + 14. 'A hizzing dragonfly that daps + Above his mudded pond'. (28) +</pre> +<p> + <b>Hizzing</b> is an old word now neglected. Shakespeare has +</p> +<pre> + 'To have a thousand with red burning spits + Come hizzing in upon 'em'.—<i>Lear</i>, III. vi. 17. +</pre> +<p> + and there are other quotations in <i>O.E.D.</i> +</p> +<p> + 15. <b>Dap</b> is used again, 'the dapping moth'. (45.) This word is + well known to fishermen and fowlers, meaning 'to dip lightly and + suddenly into water' but is uncommon in literature. +</p> +<pre> + 16. 'The glinzy ice grows thicker through'. (28) +</pre> +<p> + Author's glossary explains <b>glinzy</b> as slippery. <i>E.D.D.</i> gives + this word as <i>glincey</i> and derives from French <i>glincer</i> as <i>glisser</i>, + to slide or glide. <i>Glinzy</i> and <i>glincey</i> carry unavoidable suggestion + of <i>glint</i>. Compare the words in No. 19. <i>Glissery</i> would be convincing. +</p> +<pre> + 17. 'The green east hagged with prowling storm'. (30) +</pre> +<p> + In <i>O.E.D.</i> <b>hagged</b> is given as monopolized by the sense of + 'bewitched', or of 'lean and gaunt', related to haggard. This does not + suit. The intention is probably an independent use of the p.p. of the + transitive verb 'to hag'; defined as 'to torment or terrify as a hag, + to trouble as the nightmare'. +</p> +<pre> + 18. 'where with the browsing thaive'. (31) +</pre> +<p> + <b>Thaive</b> is a two-year-old ewe. Wright gives <i>theave</i> or <i>theeve</i> + as the commoner forms, and in the Paston letters it is <i>theyve</i>, which + perhaps confirms <i>thaive</i>, rhymed here with 'rave'. Certainly it is most + advisable to avoid <i>thieves</i>, the plural of thief, although <i>O.E.D.</i> + allows this pronunciation and indeed puts it first of the alternatives. +</p> +<pre> + 19. 'On the pathway side ... the glintering flint'. (32) +</pre> +<p> + <i>O.E.D</i>. gives <b>glinter</b> as a 'rare' word. We have <i>glinting, + glistening, glittering</i>, and <i>glistering</i>, and Scotch <i>glisting</i>. +</p> +<pre> + 20. 'The wind tangs through the shattered pane'. (34) +</pre> +<p> + Echo-words, like ting-tang, ding-dong, &c., must have their liberty; but + of <b>tang</b> it should be noted that, though the verb may raise no + inconvenience, yet the substantive has a very old and well-established + use in the sense of a projecting point or barb (especially of metal), or + sting, and that this demands respect and recognition. It is something + less than prong, and is the proper word for the metal point that fixes + the strap of a buckle. The homophonic ambiguity is notorious in + Shakespeare's +</p> +<pre> + 'She had a tongue with a tang', +</pre> +<p> + where, as the <i>O.E.D.</i> suggests, the double sense of sting and ring were + perhaps intended. +</p> +<pre> + 21. 'The grutching pixies hedge me round'. (37) +</pre> +<p> + <i>Grudge</i> and <b>grutch</b> are the same word. The use of the obsolete + form would therefore be fanciful if there were no difference in the + sense; but there is a useful distinction: because grudge has entirely + lost its original sense of murmuring, making complaint, and is confined + to the consciousness and feeling of discontent, whereas <i>grutch</i> is + recognized as carrying the old meaning of grumble. Thus Stevenson as + quoted in <i>O.E.D.</i>, 'The rest is grunting and grutching'. It is a very + useful word to restore, but it may, perhaps, at this particular time + find <i>grouse</i> rather strongly entrenched. +</p> +<pre> + 22. 'Where the channering insect channels'. (46) +</pre> +<p> + This is, of course, our old friend +</p> +<pre> + The cock doth craw, the day doth daw, + The channerin' worm doth chide', +</pre> +<p> + and it looks like an attempt to define what is there meant, viz. that + the worm made a <b>channering</b> noise in burrowing through the wood. + The notion is perhaps admissible, though we cannot believe the sound to + be audible. +</p> +<pre> + 23. 'The lispering aspens'. (53) +</pre> +<p> + <b>Lispering.</b> We should be grateful for this word. <i>O.E.D.</i> quotes + it from Clare's poems. +</p> +<pre> + 24. 'Of shallows with the shealings chalky white'. (64) +</pre> +<p> + <b>Sheal</b> is a homophone, 1. a shepherd's hut or shanty; 2. a peascod + or seed-shell. Of the first, <i>shiel</i> and <i>shieling</i> are common forms; + the second is dialectal; <i>E.D.D.</i> gives <b>shealing</b> as the husk of + seeds. If this be the meaning in our quotation, the appearance described + is unrecognized by the present annotator. +</p> +<pre> + 25. 'Dull streams + Flow flagging in the undescribed deep fourms + Of creatures born the first of all, long dead'. (67) +</pre> +<p> + <b>Fourm</b>, explained as a 'hare's lurking place', commonly called + <i>form</i>, widely used and understood because the lair has the shape or + form of the animal that lay in it. But perhaps it was originally only + the animal's seat or form, as we use the word in schools. <i>Form</i> has so + many derivative senses that it would be an advantage to have this one + thus differentiated both in spelling and sound. +</p> +<pre> + 26. 'Toadstools twired and hued fantastically'. (68) +</pre> +<p> + Though the word <b>twired</b> is not explained in Mr. Blunden's glossary + and the meaning is not evident from the context, we guess that he is + using it here of shape, in the sense of 'contorted', which would range + with the quotation from Burton (given in some dictionaries) 'No sooner + doth a young man see his sweetheart coming, but he ... slickes his + haire, twires his beard [&c.]'. Here <i>twires</i>, as latest edition of + <i>O.E.D.</i> suggests, may be a misprint for <i>twirls</i>. Older dictionaries + give wrong and misleading definitions of this word; and a spurious + <i>twire</i>, to sing, was inferred from a misreading 'twierethe' for + 'twitereth' in Chaucer's <i>Boethius</i>, III m. 2. Modern authorities only + allow <i>twire</i>, to peep, as in Shakespeare's 28th Sonnet, +</p> +<pre> + 'When sparkling stars twire not, thou gildst the even' +</pre> +<p> + (whence some had foolishly supposed that <i>twire</i> meant twinkle) and in + Ben Jonson, <i>Sad Shepherd</i>, II. 1, 'Which maids will twire at, 'tween + their fingers'. The verb is still in dialectal use: <i>E.D.D.</i> explains it + 'to gaze wistfully or beseechingly'. +</p> +<pre> + 27. 'The tiny frogs + Go yerking'. (69) +</pre> +<p> + <b>Yerk.</b> The intrans. verb is to kick as a horse. The trans. verb is + quoted from Massinger, Herrick, and Burns, who has 'My fancy yerkit up + sublime': i.e. roused, lashed. +</p> +<pre> + 28. 'There seems no heart in wood or wide'. (8) +</pre> +<p> + <b>Wide</b> as a subst. is hardly recognized. Tennyson is quoted, 'The + waste wide of that abyss', but as <i>waste</i> is a recognized substantive + the authority is uncertain. +</p> +<p> + In the above examples we have taken such words as best answered our + purpose, neglecting many which have almost equal claims. The richness of + the vocabulary in unusual words and in words carrying unusual meanings + forbids complete examination; as will be seen by a rough classification + of some of those which we have passed over. +</p> +<p> + To begin with the words which our author uses well, we will quote as an + example all the passages in which <b>writhe</b> occurs. The transitive + verb which is perhaps in danger of neglect is very valuable, and it is + well employed. These passages will also fully exhibit the general + quality of Mr. Blunden's diction. +</p> +<pre> + 'But no one loves the aguish mist + That writhes its way at eventide + Along the copse's waterside'. (3) + + 'But now the sower's hand is writhed + In livid death '. (25) + + 'To-morrow's brindled shouting storms with flood + The purblind hollows with a leaden rain + And flat the gleaning-fields to choking mud + And writhe the groaning woods with bursts of pain'. (42) + + 'The lispering aspens and the scarfed brook-grasses + With wakened melancholy writhe the air'. (53) +</pre> +<p> + <b>Dimpling</b> is well and poetically used in +</p> +<pre> + 'While the woodlark's dimpling rings + In the dim air climb'. (21) +</pre> +<p> + and also <i>quag</i> (verb) (2), <i>seething</i> (3), <i>channelled</i> (9), <i>bunch</i> + (11), <i>jungled</i> (11), <i>rout</i> (verb) (12), <i>fluster</i> (13), <i>byre</i> (13), + <i>plash</i> (shallow water) (19), <i>tantalise</i> (neut. v.) (36), <i>hutched</i> + (43), <i>flounce</i> (44), <i>rootle</i> (45), <i>shore</i> (verb) (59). <i>Lair</i> (verb) + (43) does not seem a useful word. +</p> +<p> + Next, words somewhat obscurely or fancifully used are <i>starving</i> (1), + <i>stark</i> (10), <i>honeycomb</i> (15), <i>cobbled</i> (of pattens) (16), <i>lanterned</i> + (24), <i>well</i> (49), <i>bergomask</i> (for village country dances?) (25), + <i>belvedere</i> (of the spider's watch tower) (26). +</p> +<p> + While the following seem to us incorrectly used: <i>mumbling</i> (23) used of + wings; the word is confined to the mouth whether as a manner of eating + or of speaking: <i>crunch</i> (28) where the frosts crunch the grass: whereas + they only make it crunchable. <i>maligns</i> (54) used as a neuter verb + without precedent, <i>chinked</i> (58) of light passing through a chink: + and note the homophone chink, used of sound. And then the line +</p> +<pre> + 'The blackthorns clung with heapen sloes' (55) +</pre> +<p> + contains two reprehensible liberties, because <i>clung</i> in its + original proper sense means congealed or shrivelled; to <i>cling</i> was an + intransitive verb meaning to adhere together: its modern use is to stick + fast [to something]—and secondly, <i>heapen</i> is not a grammatical form; + the p.p. is <i>heaped</i>. +</p> +<p> + Again, in the line +</p> +<pre> + 'He well may come with baits and trolls', (11) +</pre> +<p> + we do not know whether <i>trolls</i> has something to do with pike-fishing, + or merely means the reel on the rod. In that sense it lacks + authority(?), moreover it is a homophone, used by our poet in +</p> +<pre> + 'And trolls and pixies unbeknown'. (18) +</pre> +<p> + Finally, there are a good many English country names for common plants, + for example, Esau's-hands, Rabbits'-meat, Bee's balsams, Pepper-gourds, + Brandy-flowers, Flannel-weed, and Shepherd's rose; and some of these are + excellent, and we very much wish that more of our good English + plant-names could be distinctively attached. +</p> +<p> + We will not open the discussion here, except to say that the casual + employment of local names is of no service because so many of these + names are common to so many different plants. Our author's + <b>Rabbits'-meat</b>, for instance, is applied to <i>Anthriscus + sylvestris</i>, <i>Heracleum Spondylium</i>, <i>Oxalis Acetosella</i> and <i>Lamium + purpureum</i>; all of which may be suitable rabbits' food. But each + one of these plants has also a very wide choice of other names: thus + <i>Anthriscus sylvestris</i>, besides being <i>Rabbits-meat</i> may be familiarly + introduced as Dill, Keck, Ha-ho, or Bun, and by some score of other + names showing it to be disputed for by the ass, cow, dog, pig and even + by the devil himself to make his oatmeal. +</p> +<p> + <i>Heracleum Spondylium</i>, alias Old Rot or Lumper-scrump, provides + provender for cow, pig, swine, and hog, and also material for Bear's + breeches. +</p> +<p> + <i>Oxalis Acetosella</i> is even richer in pet-names. After Rabbits'-meat, + sheep-sorrel, cuckoo-spice, we find Hallelujah! Lady's cakes, and God + Almighty's bread-and-cheese. These are selected from fifty names. +</p> +<p> + <i>Lamium purpureum</i> is not so polyonymous. With Tormentil, Archangel, + and various forms of Dead-nettle, we find only Badman's Posies and + Rabbits'-meat. +</p> +<p> + The worst perplexity is that well-known names, which one would think + were securely appropriated, are often common property. Our authority for + the above details—the <i>Dictionary of English Plant-names</i>, by James + Britten and Robert Holland—tells us that <i>Orchis mascula</i>, the 'male + orchis', is also called Cowslip, Crowsfoot, Ragwort, and Cuckoo-flower. + This plant, however, seems to have suggested to the rustic mind the most + varied fancies, similitudes of all kinds from 'Aaron's beard' to + 'kettle-pad'. +</p> +<hr> +<p> + The Committee of the S.P.E. invite the membership of all those who are + genuinely interested in the objects of the Society and willing to assist + in its work. The Secretary will be glad to receive donations of any + amount, great or small, which will be duly acknowledged and credited in + the Society's banking account. +</p> +<p> + Members who wish to have the tracts of the Society forwarded to them as + they are issued, should ensure this by sending a subscription of 10<i>s</i>. + to the Secretary, who will then supply them for the current year of + their subscription. The four tracts published in the last year were thus + sent to a number of subscribers; and it would greatly assist the Society + if all these would renew their subscriptions, and if others would + subscribe for our forthcoming publications in the same manner. All + donations and subscriptions should be sent to the Hon. Secretary, +</p> +<p> + L. PEARSALL SMITH,<br> + 11 ST. LEONARD'S TERRACE,<br> + S.W. 3. +</p> +<p> + The prospectus of the Society will be found in Tract I, and further + details in Tracts III and IV. +</p> + +<hr class="full"> + +<div style="height: 4em;"><br><br><br><br></div> + +<h2>Footnotes</h2> + +<a name="note-1"><!--Note--></a> +<p class="foot"> +<u>1</u> No doubt all these variations of American from British + usage will be duly discussed in Professor George Philip Krapp's + forthcoming <i>History of the English Language in America</i>. +</p> + +<a name="note-2"><!--Note--></a> +<p class="foot"> +<u>2</u> <i>Savan</i> is quite obsolete in British use, and is not in the + <i>Century Dictionary</i> or in Webster, 1911. <i>Savant</i> is common, and often + written without italics, but the pronunciation is never + anglicized.—H.B. +</p> + +<a name="note-3"><!--Note--></a> +<p class="foot"> +<u>3</u> <i>The Waggoner and other Poems</i>, by Edmund Blunden, pp. 70. + Sidgwick and Jackson. London, 1920. +</p> + +<div style="height: 4em;"><br><br><br><br></div> +<hr class="full"> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12524 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |