A Book About Words

by G. F. Graham

‘Prejudice’ is another of those words which have gradually got rid of their favourable meaning, and are, in most cases, used in a bad sense. It is true, we sometimes say ‘prejudiced in favour of’ some person or thing; but, without this specification, there is always a leaning towards the bad sense of the word. And yet the derivation shows simply, ‘a judgment formed before sufficient reflection,’ whether favourable or otherwise.

In the same class may be placed ‘animosity.’ In Latin, ‘animosus’ meant courageous, full of soul, vigour, and ardour. Now, it is wholly confined to the sense of a violent feeling of anger, hatred, and resentment. In fine, it has lost all its beauty. There is no longer the least trace of anything noble in the word ‘animosity.’

The words ‘simple’ and ‘simplicity’ still retain something of their original charm, but it is much to be feared that they are more frequently used in a contemptuous sense. We speak of a ‘simple’ fellow, as of one who is easily cheated or duped; one wanting in shrewdness; anything but ‘knowing;’ which, by the way, is another term which has degenerated into an unfavourable acceptation.

It may seem strange, but it is certainly true, that the word ‘good’ which is naturally associated with everything high, pure, and noble, both in morals and intellect, has partaken of this general tendency downwards, and is often used in the sense of ‘able to pay,’ or ‘having sufficient means to discharge’ debts. This use of the word is found in the language as far back as Shakspere’s time. In the ‘Merchant of Venice,’ Shylock says to Bassanio:—‘Antonio is a good man?’ and when Bassanio asks him ‘if he has heard any imputation to the contrary,’ he replies:—‘My meaning in saying he is a good man, is to have you understand me that he is sufficient.’ This is still the common acceptation of the word with city men; with them, a good man is one who has a large balance at his banker’s.

If we look into the original meaning of the word ‘cunning,’ we shall find that it was not at first used in its present bad sense. This is one of a numerous Saxon family, based upon the type ‘kn’ or ‘cn;’ as ‘ken,’ ‘know,’ ‘can,’ ‘king,’ ‘cunning,’ &c. We find in Psalms cxxxvii. 5:—‘If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her “cunning,”’ where the word is used for skill or art. This meaning is now seldom applied, while the word has kept its sense of deceit or slyness.

The same may be said of ‘craft.’ It had at first a good as well as a bad sense. It meant ability or dexterity, as well as fraud or artifice. Now its bad meaning is in the ascendant. If the favourable sense is sometimes intended, this is the exception, not the rule.

Indeed, there are many English words which, though not taken in a positively unfavourable sense, have yet a tendency that way—which require qualifying, if we wish them to be understood favourably. For instance, if we speak of any one’s ‘curiosity,’ meaning that he has an inquiring spirit, it will be necessary to explain that we mean a well-directed, and not a prying, impertinent curiosity; for, without that explanation, it will be certainly understood in the latter sense. In fine, when there are two meanings to a word, a right and a wrong, the evil is sure to prevail.

The words ‘critic’ and ‘criticise’ are in precisely the same condition. These words do not of necessity imply fault-finding. A critic is simply a judge; he may have to praise as well as to blame; but every one knows full well that to ‘criticise’ is generally looked upon as synonymous with ‘to censure,’ and, unless qualified, is sure to be understood in the latter sense.

In the very copious vocabulary of words which have ‘fallen from their high estate,’ or undergone a pernicious transformation, may be also ranged the word ‘fellow.’ In some cases it retains a certain respectability, as when we speak of the ‘Fellow of a college.’ Shakspere makes Hamlet say of Yorick, the jester:—‘He was a “fellow” of infinite jest,’ where the sense is certainly not intended to be disparaging. But now-a-days ‘fellow’ is, on the whole, not looked upon very favourably. It is suggestive of recklessness and disorderly conduct, and, unless qualified, is not a very complimentary term.

As to the word ‘knave,’ it is irrecoverably lost. It is the lowest and most degrading term we can apply as a reproach and an insult; and yet it meant originally nothing more than ‘boy,’ as ‘Knabe’ does to this day in German. By what process the ‘boy’ became a ‘knave’ may be a speculation, but the word has obviously lost its former good name.